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IF YOU ARE A MINOR AND/OR YOU SHOULDN'T BE READING THIS GET OUT! GET OUT! STOP SINNING! ALSO THIS IS TOTALLY GAY PORN! GAY FURRY PORN ALERT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Pawsroloc here. My other story, The Order, is getting pretty big, so expect some one-offs until I finish it. Sorry if this isn't to your liking. I'm not completely sure its to my liking, either.

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I guess you could say this whole mess started when some woman in Canada grew a third arm. The woman claimed that the functioning limb had grown in less than fifteen days. Scientists were baffled, and the media went into a frenzy to cover the bizarre case. At first, most people who saw the headlines just thought it was an elaborate prank. But as time passed, more and more people began to report their ‘mutations’. That’s what the media started calling them as well. Some guy in Connecticut, US grew hair all over his body in a month... A woman in Ireland woke up with another pair of eyes... Three people in Japan came forward on the same day and announced that they now had bony, hairless tails… And the reports just kept coming in, day after day. That woman from Canada, at this point she was known as ‘Patient Zero’. Some people started blaming her for all of this, as if one woman could ‘spread’ this phenomena across the entire world in a month. Conspiracy theorists went wild over this, pointing their fingers at every government or corporation they could. And others still found their answer in religion.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Such an event would surely bring civilization as we know it to its knees! You’d think that people would be raving that it was the end of the world; that entire cities would fall to chaos… and for a while people were genuinely scared.

Of course every major political power jumped at the chance to be the first to ‘uncover the greatest mystery of the modern era’. Almost every country was on a race for the cure, but I think the populous had seen enough apocalyptic zombie movies to know not to place their faith in institutes like the NCBI.

Now the panic had been BIG at first… but nothings really changed. A year has passed and the mutants are just kind of… living. The only thing it really messed up was the Olympics. That was a huge topic for debate. I mean, you can’t really let a guy with webbed feet and gills into the 1500 metre freestyle… can you?

Whenever I hear that word I laugh. If you looked up the list of ‘symptoms’ on the web of reported mutations, you’d never finish reading it. Trust me I tried.

Nowadays most people know at least one Mutie. My dorm neighbor has blue scales running up and down his back but no one really seems to give him a hard time for it. Not only that, but most mutie’s you meet tell you that it’s not so bad. Apparently it doesn’t even hurt. Some even reported tingling pleasures or outright orgasms.

No one’s exploding. No one’s dying because their heart dissolved overnight. There’s no panic or pain involved. Honestly I find that even more unsettling, but I’m not about to go grab a picket fence and join the mass of zealous protestors.

Now, the really weird thing? The number of monthly reported mutations is increasing. Estimates are that in three years, one in every three people will be showing ‘symptoms’. But if you ask most people, they don’t really care. The muties don’t seem to mind, and it’s not like anyone’s been seriously harmed as a result. So why should we care? All we could do is cross our fingers and hope that we were one of the lucky ones.

So that’s where my story starts. I’m in college still, and yes, the guy with scales on his back is still my dormmate. His name’s Dan, short for Daniel. He and I are actually pretty good friends now. We’re not in the same major, sure, but that doesn’t stop us from hanging out. We do a lot of things together. We eat together, work out together, and hell, we even fuck each other from time to time. Apparently my intentions with him were pretty transparent from day one. I’ve never been good at being ‘subtle’, and I guess Daniel care for it either. The first time we hung out, just the two of us, his lips were around my cock in mere minutes. I’d like to say I lasted longer as well… but the guy’s got talent. After the first night, we had to ask ourselves what we wanted out of this relationship. I was pretty blunt with the guy, but he understood. Relationships have never been my strong suit, and if ‘fuck buddies’ worked with him, so be it. We started calling it ‘stress-relief’, and it really did help me through my first semester.

My only real irk with Dan was his confidence. The guy hid it well, but he really was self-conscious about the whole ‘scales’ thing. It took me a while to convince him to take off his shirt during our sessions. It took him even longer to finally understand that I thought they looked good on him. And if I’m being completely honest… I was a little upset. Jealous, even. Here he was, at the epicenter of all of this, and the man truly thought I would be grossed out by a few scales.

I’ve daydreamed about mutating a few times before. You could even say I’ve fantasized about it. Wings, claws, gills… hell, I’d take anything. Even if that meant becoming a cyclops, I’d gladly drink the Kool-Aid.

At the start of my second semester I met Bradley. Well… it’s more like I didn’t get to /know/ Bradley until then. The guy lived on the same floor as Dan and I, but he mostly kept to himself. I’d tried talking to him a few times before, but the guy would never look me in the eyes when he talked. God, I really hate when people do that. With my pet peeves aside, we ended up assigned as lab partners for some god-awful biochemistry course. Sure, the guy didn’t look me in the eyes, but I still assumed we’d be able to get along well enough. I put on the charm, cracked a few jokes, and soon enough he was waving back to me as we passed each other by. I thought everything would be fine. I made a friend, and this class was going to be a piece of cake. That is, until he stopped showing up to class.

After the fourth absence I knew something was up. If he was in his room he wouldn’t come to the door, and none of the other floormates had seen more than a glimpse of him over the past few days. I was starting to get worried, so I uh… I set up a surprise attack. I sat next to Bradley’s dorm door for over six hours before the man finally emerged. As soon as he saw me sitting there, he tried to run back inside. Luckily (and painfully), I managed to slip my foot between his door and the frame. After only a minor amount of cursing and pushing, I successfully forced my way into his room.

What? I said before that I lacked ‘subtlety’. The guy was obviously avoiding me, and if he had stopped showing up to class altogether that could have spelt disaster for his college career.

Bradley (and his room) looked like complete shit. His once short hair hung shaggily over his glasses, and the man was kneeling in the corner of his room. He wore a college sweatshirt that was three sizes too large for him and a pair of sweats with plenty of… questionable stains. Above all, the guy looked like he was about to cry. He kept spewing apologies to me from his corner, eyes desperately straining on anything except me.

Now I may not have seen a lot of ‘meltdowns’ in my time, but I knew full-well that I was walking on eggshells with Bradley. This was make or break time for him, and I’d be damned before I’d let him crack.

It was kind of like diffusing a bomb. Okay, not really. It was more like talking someone down from a really bad trip. You just repeat the obvious until they’ve calmed down enough.

“No, I’m not mad.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Yes, you’re fine.”

Eventually I got convinced him to take a shower, and boy did he need one. I mentally noted to bring back some type of air freshener to his dorm room. Trust me when I say that it reeked as badly as my old room had when I had first discovered porn on the internet.

I waited patiently in his now-artificially-freshened room for him to return… except… he never did. I calmly and politely waited an hour before I decided enough was enough. My patience was at its thinnest it had ever been as I stormed towards the showers. Luckily, there was only one shower running as I stepped into the bathroom. It made my decision to yank the curtain open and /courteously/ ask Bradley to return to his room all the easier.

I did the first part quite easily, making my entrance as grandiose and startling as possible. However all plans to speak were quickly derailed by the sight before me.

Trust me when I say this, but I’ve seen a lot of guys naked. Hell, I’d routinely fucked a guy with scales. But this was something I had never seen before.

First off, it should be noted that Bradley is currently fingering himself. Let’s just get that out of the way. Second, he’s covered in fur from the waist down. Deep brown fur covers the sides of his lithe form, traveling all the way down to his knees. A lighter shade of brown covered his stomach and trailed all the way own to his… paws? Bradley’s eyes are shut tight, his lips quivering in a perfect ‘oh’ face. He’s got his fingers stuffed so far up his own ass that I almost glossed over his tiny stub of a tail altogether.

Okay. So. Remember that thing about subtlety?

I didn’t startle him /too/ bad. I assume that his surprise to find me, naked and in his shower, paled in comparison to finding out that his feet were now dog-paws. That’s got to count for something.

And it’s not like I forced myself on him. I’m pretty sure that when a guy spreads his legs for you and begs you to fuck him, that’s all the permission one needs, right?

Now I’ve never pressed my tongue up against an asshole surrounded by fur, but it’s really not that different from a guy with pubes. And hey, the water didn’t hurt either. Bradley’s fingers had done quite a bit of work for me already, my tongue sliding into his loosened passage with little to no resistance. The guy writhed against my ministrations, his cock bouncing against his furred chest as he pressed back into my mouth. I could tell he wanted more, his whole body practically shaking in need. I scraped my teeth gently against his rear, my tongue routinely flicking in and out of him. I gave his gloriously strange and unique rear a once over, taking in the sight of his winking tailhole before giving it one final long, hard lick.

As if on cue, he began bucking his hips into the air, rope after rope of cum splattering against the bathroom wall. Bradley moaned a sigh of relief, his cock still dribbling cum into the drain below.

And that’s when Bradley apologizes to me. I couldn’t believe it! He was apologizing for one of the best experiences of my life. I helped the guy clean up and brought him back to his room. Honestly, I’m surprised no one else had walked in on our little ‘excursion’ in the bathroom. It was either that, or someone was very good at keeping secrets to themselves.

Remember when I said that most muties liked the feeling of the change? Well Bradley /really/ liked it. So much so that he kind of loses track of anything else while he’s changing. To worsen things, Bradley had stopped mutating for half a semester before the changes began again. Whereas before he had only had the tiny tail, he had slowly been changing even more over the past two weeks.

The paws were new, apparently. Bradley’s hour long ‘shower’ had really been a rollercoaster of orgasms. As I watched Bradley wiggle his new toes, I couldn’t help but feel that all-too familiar jealousy bubble up within me again.

I did what any sensible person would do at that point. I introduced him to Dan, and explained the situation. Our ‘stress-relief’ quickly became a three person thing. Reports around the globe of muties continuing their changes came in, and it quickly became apparent that mutating was not a one-time-deal.

And you’d expect some kind of panic, right? But no! Everyone’s just waiting it out. Word got out about our ‘stress-relief’ on campus, and now I’m finding more and more muties with similar needs coming to us for help.

Me? Nothing much has changed on my side. Not a single mutated gene in my body. And sure, I may not be a lizard mutie or a walking and talking doberman, but I’m sure one day I’ll start changing.And when I do, I’ll make the best of every moment.

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Pawsroloc

So what'd you think? Not bad for only two hours of writing, right? Right? Eheh...

I wrote another 5k words for The Order as well, but I won't be posting that until it's completely finished. (Probably another 10-20k words, so expect one-offs in the meantime)

Questions? Comments? Concerns? I'm always welcome to hear your opinion!

Oh, and thanks for reading!