FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Meating the Family By Lykanos Wulfheart

After carefully, gently sliding the uncooked pumpkin pie into the oven, filling the rack just below the deliciously sweet smelling, nearly finished ham, Bill resealed the door and turned with a grin. With a hint of sarcasm, he addressed the radiant auburn haired beauty before him. "Did you have to invite your parents over?" The woman shot back a dirty glance which was softened by her pale, pleasantly rounded cheeks. Taking a moment to appreciate her grace, Bill remained at a crouch. Usually standing five foot eleven, this lower vantage point let him take in all of her shorter frame.

Abby had been his wife for a few years now, but he always loved seeing her dressed up. Today was a special treat for him with her sporting a darker blue blouse, tan khakis, and even tying her shoulder-length hair back into a tail. With an appeased sigh, he stood back up to help with the dished.

Shooting Bill another glance, Abby teased, "Oh, you just want out of those fancy clothes, don't you?" As she stuck out her tongue, he fired back with "You know it!" Bill was the kind of guy who loved t-shirts and shorts. Nice, loose, casual. Not today, though. For this event, he was being forced into a nice short sleeve button-up dress shirt with lines of black and grey running from top to bottom. Though she made him tuck it into his nice blue-jeans and bind it with a belt, he defiantly left the top button open and refused to wear a tie. As much as he complained to the contrary, he looked good in it. His fairly well toned frame was complimented by the clothes as they hugged his body. Abby scoffed, "And your hair. Let me fix it." Bill couldn't help but smile as Abby fussed through his straight, mid-length brown locks. Smiling back at him, she chuckled. "Yea, see? I know you like it."

The kitchen wasn't huge, but it was big enough for everyone to fit. With a door in the back and a wider entry to the living room, it had all the major furnishings of a kitchen / dining room. Having the fridge and stove closer to the living room's back, the outward facing wall had the sink and counter space. Closer to the side sharing a border with the living room sat the table, an extendable, real wood surface set to hold about six people comfortably. Likewise, the chairs surrounding it were wooden with swirling patterns cut into the backs.

With the food almost done and only the dished left, Bill motioned to the living room with his head. "Hey, you've been in here all day. I've got this if you want to go relax for a bit." Although trying to be nice, he had a secret motive. He was hoping she'd answer the door when her parents arrived. Although he got along great with Abby's mom, her father, "The Major", rubbed him the wrong way. With a parting kiss, Abby gladly accepted the offer, but as she disappeared into the other room, she called back, "I know what you're up to. Try not to worry about it, too much. I think he likes you..." Popping her head back in, she spoke in an ominous tone, "But he can smell fear!"

"Yea, that's what I'm afraid of," He said in a sour hush as he crinkled his nose at her. Mumbling to himself, he chuckled, "Werewolf fear. Man, I must stink." Giving himself a whimsical sniff, he got back to doing the dishes.

Abby took a seat on the couch, the focal point of the space. With an entertainment center in front and a path between the entryway and the kitchen behind, the sofa was literally the center piece. The only other thing of note in the room was the staircase running up the back wall. Starting by the front door, it ran up to the bathroom and their master bedroom. After a few minutes of relaxation, it happened. The knock. Three sharp, powerful bursts. Hopping to her feet, Abby gave a cute little "I'll get it" as she made her way to the door.

"Mom! Dad!" Abby exclaimed excitedly as she hugged them. Her mom, Deborah, looked much like Abby, with a little more length and a tinge more brown in her still fairly red hair. Her dad, Dan, was a few inches taller, somewhere around five foot eight or nine, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in stature. He held himself as a person of authority, which made sense, what with him being an Army Major. Dressed mostly in purple and black, Deborah held out a bag of cookies. "Made these for Billy. I know how much he likes my peanut butter cookies and I made them with butterscotch chips, too. Poor guy. What kind of monster gets sick on chocolate?" She spoke in a sweet, kind voice, the sort of motherly tone that put you at ease. Bill couldn't help but smile, listening from the kitchen. "What kind of monster, indeed," he said to himself. This is why he liked Deborah. She was sweet, kind, and fun-spirited... the exact opposite of her husband.

As Abby led their guests in, Bill quickly finished up and dried his hands. Making their way into the dining room, they were greeted by the slightly nervous husband. With a hug, he greeted Deborah, "Long time, no see. You're looking lovely, and ooh, cookies?"

"Yep, made them just for you. No chocolate, either. Can't have you getting sick, can we?" Deborah's voice was gentle and true, giving Bill a slight sense of ease. "And sir," Bill said as he stuck out his hand to the plain, suited man. "A pleasure to see you again." With a firm shake, Dan scoffed. "Something like that. I'm starving. Let's eat."

As Abby took them to the seats at the far end of the table, she brushed by Bill and whispered, "See, he likes you." Bill responded with a silent snicker as he turned back to the oven to check the food. "You're just in time, sir. Ham's done and pie will be ready in a few minutes." Getting out the mits, Bill pulled out the ham and carefully closed the oven door to let the pumpkin pie finish baking. With knife in hand, he carved the juicy piece of meat as Abby grabbed plates and scooped out generous portions of mashed potatoes that had been simmering on a back burner. Placing the bounty on the table, Abby went to the fridge as Bill sat at the head of the table, closest to the main entryway. Abby had made sure he got that seat, knowing that if something were to happen, Bill may need to run upstairs. Returning with a bowl of salad, she scooted it closer to her parents. As she sat down, Bill jokingly glared. "Eww, gross. Are you trying to kill me?" With a gentle kick, Abby shot back, "You behave yourself, mister."

"Yes, ma'am," He said with a smile as the remaining food was put on people's plates.

At first, the meal was going well. It was mostly Abby catching up with her mom, some recent adventures, and a brief break for Bill to pull out the pie and turn off the oven. Then, Dan changed the tone. "So, Bill? How's your little business doing? Making any money yet?" Bill knew that Abby's father was trying to get under his skin and he was going to try his hardest not to let it bother him. "Actually, sir, business has been booming. With the high demand of technology these days, software development is a constantly growing field."

"Is that so? How about income-wise? Are you making any more that Abby, here, or is she still wearing the pants in the family?" With a dry chuckle, he was sure this would fluster his son-in-law. He didn't hate the boy, but he sure did like messing with him. Abby tried to tone him down with a quick, "We make about the same, dad."

Clutching his leg, Bill could feel his heart racing. In his mind, he was contemplating, "Here we go, attacking my ability to provide. I just need to prove to him that I'm good enough for his daughter, but how? Grrr... I hate it when he does this. Gets me all trapped and worried! I just want to-" His thought was cut short as he felt something digging into his leg. Looking down, he could see claws already starting to peak out from beneath his fingernails. Immediately looking pale, he turned to Abby and said, "Suddenly, I don't feel so good. Sorry!" With that, he pivoted away from the table, tucking his hands into his chest and making a mad dash through the living room and up the stairs. As the thud of the bathroom door hit, Abby turned to her mother and apologized. "I'm so sorry. We weren't sure if he may have had some slight food poisoning from last night. He thought he was fine, but maybe not." She tried to keep things going downstairs, knowing full well what was happening up there.

Slamming the door behind him, Bill quickly used what remained of his rapidly diminishing finger dexterity. Undoing his belt and pants, he let them slip down as he started on his shirt buttons. Two in and the thickening pads stopped his progress. "Grr, and I kinda liked this one." With a huff and a tug, he pulled the garment open. Two buttons slipped free, but the remaining three shot off in different direction. Two struck the mirror before him, a long, 3-part mirror that opened into cabinetry. One landed off to his right, over by the toilet in the corner. The other shot over his shoulder, thudding into the closed shower curtain that hid a combo shower / bath tub of white acrylic. The only other thing of note that wasn't hit was the closet built into the side of the tub and in front of the toilet. The last button ricocheted off the sink, a nice white porcelain with about a foot of counter space to either side. Landing back in the bowl, it rotated and stopped along the drain. With a worried gasp, he quickly tried to save the button. Since his fingers had already reshaped into very canine-like digits, this was a difficult feat. After two failed swipes pushed the tiny plastic circle to the brink, he used a claw to firmly pin it in place. With a careful force, he dragged the precious salvage up the side of the porcelain and over the edge. Letting out a triumphant "Yes" he went back to the task at hand.

He pulled off the shirt gently and kicked the pants over to the closet. Taking a look in the mirror, he saw that in his attempt to save the button, he was a bit further along than expected. His muzzle was almost fully pushed out and his grey and white fur was filling in over his chest and shoulders. Despite the changes he couldn't help but think back to his father-in-law. "Grah! I don't know why, but that guy just gets me so mad." With a frustrated flick of his tongue, he moistened his new black nose and cleaned either side of his still mostly naked muzzle. Twitching his fully formed wolf-like fingers in front of his face, he gave a dark, guttural laugh. "If he only knew. Good thing I'm a nice guy-" Focus set on his disproval and not on his own changing body, Bill was caught by surprise as his feet popped and reshaped. The sudden shock and loss of balance sent him spinning to the left. Reaching out to catch something, anything , he managed to snag the shower curtain rod. Being no match for a half shifted werewolf, the sad pole came loose and dropped with him.

*CRACK*

The ceiling shook as something thudded in the upstairs bathroom. Abby was just starting to hand out slices of Bill's homemade pumpkin pie when everyone looked up in unison. Her father nearly stood up as he exclaimed, "What was that?" Deborah chimed in with, "Poor guy, probably just dropped to his knees. Honey, maybe we should get going." With a groan, Dan eyed his savory dessert. "But, Deb. Pie!" He was met with a glare that easily outranked him. "Yes, dear. Let's help you clean up, then we'll take off." He nodded to Abby as he stood. "But I do want to keep my pie."

Leaning against the cold acrylic, Bill held his breath. Maybe if he didn't make a sound, they wouldn't have heard it. After a few seconds, the shock was over and he could feel the pain setting in. He had landed hard, left ribs slamming into the side of the tub. Touching it gingerly, he could tell that nothing was broken, but it sure did hurt. Rolling off to the right, he dropped to his hands and knees. That's when the real pain started. His transformation was nearing the end and his chest was starting to expand to match the rest of him. As the waves of change increased so did the waves of pain, one hundred fold. As valiantly as he tried, Bill couldn't hold back the scream.

After the loud cry was done, he heavily considered punching the floor in frustration. Reluctantly thinking better of it, his fist dangled in the air before gently resting back on the frigid linoleum. As the throbbing pain of his ribs started to calm, so did his transformation. With his freshly formed tail hung low, he slowly pulled himself off the ground and made his way to the bedroom. He was incredibly careful to walk gently, knowing just how much of a thud it would make downstairs.

As the food was almost all put away, they could hear the bathroom door open, and then loud footfalls going back through the house. The major snorted, "Sheesh, does he need to stomp so loudly?" He was met with a pair of glares. Abby chimed in, "Its food poisoning, dad. He's probably all out of energy."

"Yea, good point." Deborah then pulled on his arm and finished with, "We'd better leave you to it. Sorry for his behavior. He didn't mean anything by it." Dan started to groan, but was quickly cut off with a look. On the way to the door, they said their good-byes and left, leaving Abby free to help her husband.

Heading upstairs, she peeked into the bathroom, seeing all the carnage. Quickly picking up, she made it presentable once more, and then cautiously crept to the bedroom. As she opened the door and flicked on the light, she saw a sad sight. A big, fuzzy, grey and white werewolf lay on their still neatly made, maroon blanket covered bed. The pathetic mass of fluff had his pawed hands covering his eyes as he was sprawled on his back, tail lightly tucking up between his legs. "I blew it, didn't I?" said the sorrowful canine.

Moving delicately to the foot of the bed, his loving wife stroked the fur on his ankle. "No. You didn't ruin a thing. They just think you have food poisoning is all." Still covering his eyes, he spoke apologetically. "I wasn't going to let him get to me. I wasn't. Then he came in accusing me of not providing for you..." Abby slowly slipped onto the bed and over his legs. Straddling his thighs, she slowly massaged his chest. "Hey, hey. It's fine. I know how he is. He really does like you. He just has a bad way of showing it."

Slowly calming the blubbering beast, she worked her way to his sides. With a sudden, full body shudder, he gently moved the paws from his face down to her hands. "Careful. It's tender there." Parting the fur with a nurse-like precision, she dutifully appraised the area. "Oof, that's a nasty bruise. What did you do?" With a painful chuckle, he replied, "I fell on the tub. Don't worry, it won. Oh! I hope I didn't snap the rod!" He started to lean up as his little lover pushed him right back down. "Ah, ah, ah! It's fine. I already put it back up. You need to take it easy."

"In that case, can I get you to shift that way?" With his thick, wolfy pads, he helped move her to his right as he comically scooted in the opposite direction. Snuggling up into him, Abby spent the next several minutes petting his belly, soothing the savage werewolf and letting him know that he was a good boy.