FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Forefox shivered. Though he wore snug leather armor and was a fox, he was no artic fox. He was used to the winters of the West, short seasons of chilly winds and frost that melted in the morn, not the full-fledged blizzards and heavy snows of the bitter North. However, his profession as a wandering warrior left him little choice of where to go other than where the money was, and thus he had ended up in the snow. In this case he had traveled to a certain crypt on the behest of an attractive vixen sorceress who had asked him to retrieve a peculiar pendant and lay the restless dead to their slumber once more. He had agreed then because of the great sum of wealth promised along with the allowance to keep what he killed and found, but now he thought he might have not agreed if he had known how cold it was to be. He shivered and stared at the crypt's entrance, knowing full well it would probably be colder there too. Still, he had not made his way through his transient trade by giving up. Well, giving up often at least. There had been one or two times when the prize had not been worth the price. He didn't think this was one of those times, however. What were a few decrepit skeletons and search for an item compared to riches that could let him live as the wealthy did for a year and not have to worry about the cold? It was too late to go back, anyhow. He was already cold, he might as well finish this, or begin as it were.

The fox walked towards the crypt entrance, a black, rectangular stone opening that promised only darkness inside and from the outside smelled of death and decay. Before stepping in, he drew his short sword, a valuable weapon for backstabbing and use in enclosed spaces, and also withdrew a yellowish rod. He smacked it against his blade and the rod sparked to life with the illumination of a dim torch. He nestled it into his pouch and stepped into the crypt.

The warrior stood motionless for a moment, taking in the scents, sights, and sounds. Forefox's sensitive nose twitched as he took in a sickly-sweet scent mixed with the earthy smell of gravesoil. He was barely perturbed given that he'd smelled cookings of an ogre that was far worse. The crypt itself was nothing more than a short hallway lined with crumbling stone walls with grooves that contained coffins in between and a stout obsidian pillar he could just make out from his device's illumination. There were no sounds save for his own breathing until one of the ensconced coffins nearby shook. Forefox winced as the coffin's cover came off with a grinding screech followed by a loud thud. A moment later, a decrepit skeleton climbed out of the coffin, all the while clicking and clattering its teeth. Forefox clutched his sword tightly with both hands as the undead turned and stared at him with its hollow eyes sockets. It too carried a weapon in its hand, an ancient weapon covered with rust and dust.

Without any warning, the skeleton rushed at Forefox. The warrior parried its clumsy blow and retaliated with a sweeping cut. He was a little disappointed when the skeleton shattered, much of it crumbling into dust as its bones clattered to the floor. He stared at the skull as it rolled away from him, no longer animate.

"Hmph," he grunted, letting his sword fall to his side.

In the next moment he was on guard again as the crypt resounded with the echoes of many coffins opening at once, along with the frenzied clattering of bones as their inhabitants awoke. Forefox looked this way and that as his amount of adversaries swelled in number from none to nine. He smiled, and it was not the clever grin common to his kind but one of a warrior. Other foxes might have snuck through the crypt or tricked the undead into thinking they were one of them, but not Forefox. There was elation in his step as he moved towards his first foe, energy borne from combative challenge.

Unfortunately for Forefox, the newly risen did hardly posed any challenge at all. For all their strange sounds and rusted weapons that were no doubt infectious from their years spent near rotting flesh, the undead were slow and skilless. They had deflecting even the simplest of strikes and when one did so its arm fell off anyhow. The warrior rushed from undead to undead, cutting and shattering them apart so that they could never rise again. As he downed the dead, more kin crawled from their coffins but he cut them down just as easily, rendering skeleton after skeleton inert until there were simply no more dead to come forth. In a few minutes he had taken down at least two dozen of the skeletons, their scattered bones making it hard to count. He was slightly taxed, but unharmed and better yet warmed by his exertion.

Forefox turned towards the end of the crypt and the obsidian pillar therein. He sheathed his sword as he made his way towards it, noticing a glimmer of gold upon the altar along with an ashen amulet nestled above the coins. He laughed. Not only had clearing out the undead been almost effortless, but so was the search for amulet. He didn't care so much that he had been cold before and was still a little chilly, he now almost had the wealth that would ensure he was no longer cold again.

Upon arrival at the pillar, Forefox bent down and began to scoop coin after coin into his pouch. As an afterthought, he placed the gleaming rod upon the pillar so that it wouldn't get in the way so much. It was only after the pillar was bereft of wealth and his pouch heavy with coin that he turned his gaze towards the ashen amulet. He lifted it by the grey string that would allow it to be worn around the neck and stared at the amulet itself. It was a strange thing, shaped as a scale but with a vein of red through it and a few pebbly protrusions that reminded of spikes yet lacked their sharpness. Curious, he traced a finger over the red line and felt warm, actual warmth emitting from it. He squinted his eyes and his ears perked with interest. Given that a sorceress had sent him after the amulet, he had thought it might be magic but now that he actually had it in his grasp, he wondered what magic it might contain. He shrugged and meant to move it to stuff it in his pouch, but there were just too many coins. He would have to do some rearranging if he didn't want it to fall out. Just as he thought about doing so, a simpler idea came to his mind. Why not just wear the amulet?

He smiled and lowered his ears as he pulled the amulet's string over his head. Still clutching the amulet in one hand, he carefully guided it and the string down until it fit comfortably on him, the amulet itself lying just below his collarbone. There, now he was sure he couldn't lose it and--

"Why," A voice whispered, light and sibilantly seductive. "Thank you."

Forefox's differently colored eyes widened as he looked around for the crypt for the voice's source. The crypt, however, was cold and empty, its dead laid to rest.

"Huh?" Forefox said, his voice echoing in the emptiness.

The voice laughed.

"You have my gratitude for my foolishness."

Forefox finally looked down to the amulet. The voice wasn't coming from there, but it could be the only source unless...

He grabbed at the amulet's string too late as it abruptly tightened. He coughed, not choking but nonetheless uncomfortable as it firmly held itself against the neck. Unsure what else to do, he tugged at the amulet for only a moment, yelping and pulling his hands away from it because of its heat.

"Good," the voice said. "You are strong."

The string tightened and Forefox fell to his knees as he futilely tugged at the string, which was deathly cold in comparison to the ashen amulet itself. He pulled his paws away, but the cold had stayed with them. In moments his hands were totally numb. He held them in front of his snout and whined. He could barely breathe and he couldn't even move his fingers!

"Not strong enough to resist," the voice purred and Forefox shuddered as he felt a phantom tongue lick at the back of his mouth. "Perfect."

Forefox whined again as the fur upon his paws began to wither. Healthy gray hairs turned white and old as they seemingly aged within seconds. This, however, was not what was happening. The fox warrior watched as some of these hairs fall away, revealing ashen hide beneath made up scales indiscernable from each other. These scales siphoned the life from his fur so that when it fell away all that remained beneath was more of the ashen scales. Worse, the configuration of his hands shifted as the scales overtook his fingers, softening paws into more humanoid hands while his digits grew out longer and more slender. His claws sharpened and lengthened, their color now a grey so dark it was nearly black.

"S-stop," Forefox begged, wheezing.

For a time, Forefox had hope as the amulet's grip weakened. He took a few harsh breaths and placed his hands on the floor to stabilize himself, his claws audibly clicking against the cold floors. They remained there for a only a moment, before moving of their own accord towards his neck.

"No," the voice replied, laughing a laugh that echoed in his mind.

The string tightened once more and his rebellious hands began to tug and worked at his leather shirt. He tried to fight it with his arms, but he was horrified to find the cold numbness traveling up them too. His terror only grew when he realized he could hardly feel his neck as well.

Forefox stumbled to his feet and looked down just in time to see his hands finish their task. His leather top fell open, and then his arms wiggled and shivered until the armor fell to the floor, leaving him only wearing a simple cloth shirt up top. This didn't for last as his clawed, alien hands tore at the garb, sending tattered cloth about and rending him half-nude. He gaped at what this revealed: arms slender and smoothly scaled with ashen grey, scales that were already starting to spread as the fur on his shoulders and chest lost their vitality.

"Looking better," the voice said.

Forefox couldn't agree. As his shoulders scaled and lost their broadness, he shivered and whimpered while red, pulsing veins made themselves more prominent on either side of them. He felt a little warmer now, but that did little to alleviate his fear or the spreading scales or cold and the numbness that came with it. The ashen hide left behind looked dead, but it was surely alive if his still functioning though not under his control hands told him anything. Slowly, but surely, his body was becoming something other than his.

"S-stop," he tried again. "This is my body, mine and--"

"Oh?" the voice asked, its tone high and mocking. "Is that so?"

Forefox blinked as his hands unbuckled his belt, throwing it away before one hand touched his tail while the other pulled his pants down. The fur on his legs bristled as they were exposed to the crypt's cold, though his crotch was still covered for now. He shivered as his hand stroked his bushy, vulpine tail. He looked over his shoulder and whimpered when he saw its grey hue begin to fade in favor of the ashen scales below. He hardly noticed as his underwear was pulled down to pool at his feet, for he was far too focused with the sight of his tail lengthening and thickening as white spikes began to intermittently poke out, starting near the tip. His attention was drawn away and he nearly jumped when his claws pinched at one of his nipples. He looked to his chest and gasped.

After shedding his fur, there was still some muscle to his torso, but his stomach was slimmer now and his pectorals were softer and...rounder? He moaned as his claws pinched a nipple again as both thickened and darkened to a blackish hue, slightly fatter and more sensitive now as the flesh beneath both bulged, swelling into soft, rounded shapes. He blinked, recognizing his nascent breasts for what they were. But were they really his breasts?

Forefox whined. He had to undo this before it got any worse. But how? His hands were no longer his and the amulet couldn't simply be shaken off. He looked down at his legs and saw streaks of warm red veins were making their way through his fur. He didn't have a choice, he had to run now, maybe if he was far from the crypt...

The warrior started to run, but sudden spots of pain and a lash of his tail backwards stopped him from doing more than stumbling back, his small breasts bouncing. His butt bumped against the obsidian pillar and he felt his rear fill out slightly, more rounded and squeezable.

"No, no, no," the voice said. "You're going nowhere except where I want you to."

Forefox squeezed his eyes shut. At that moment he realized the voice was inside his head. He wasn't sure if it had always been there since he had put the amulet on, but it was surely there now. Which could only mean...

He grimaced as he felt the fur fall off his face while more red veins carved their way around his neck, tail, and hips. He shuddered when his hips wrenched apart, their new width complemented in curves as his waist pinched inwards. Opening his eyes, he stared down at his increasingly feminine form, moaning involuntarily once one of his burgenoning breasts was groped. He had to resist somehow, he couldn't give up, not now.

"Mine," he said, wincing at the sound of his voice. It was higher pitched now, feminine and with more of a hiss. "This is still mine."

"Really?"

Forefox's drained ears flopped down upon ashen scales to be absorbed into them a moment later. His snout and skull started to rearrange, vulpine cranium rearranging into one more draconic and that sloped up with a pointing protrusion near the back. His muzzle broadened and curved, his black nose now existing as two small slits on either side of his snout. For a moment, the former fox couldn't see as his eyes turned totally black before being reignited into an eerie red punctuated with reptilian pupils. He opened his mouth and his teeth fell out one by one, his tongue forking out and lengthening and it licked at these empty spots where many more sharper teeth grew. He shuddered and felt his breasts wobble and his long, serpentine tail slap against his scaly ass. He looked down at his body, the last pockets of fur falling away as five toes began three cruel talons below his veiny, shapely scaled legs. He stared, and realized something.

"This isn't me," he whimpered in a feminine voice, sibilantly seductive.

"Yes," the voice answered, issuing from his mouth this time. "It's me."

Forefox's shoulders shook as bony appendages sprouted from them, grey and rough and batlike. They were the base for flight, but their lack of membrane or strong musculature mean they were mostly for show, just like the four pearly bones that jutted out of his sides to rest right above his ribs, pieces of a picture meant to inspire fear in their unliving appearance.

It was perhaps because of this fear that Forefox's still remanining manhood throbbed and emerged. If he were in any other situation, he would have covered himself in embarassment, but he had no control over his arms or legs or head. He tried to speak too, but now that right was revoked too. For now he was just a passenger in a body that had once been his. Thus, he was helpless as taloned hands that had once been his reached down and squeezed at his manhood. He shuddered in pleasure, because he could still feel everything, the cold numbness of the scales overruled by the vein's fiery warmth.

"Hmm," the voice said. No, it was she said for there was no doubt in Forefox's mind that the other presence was female. In fact, he could almost feel her now, her soul against his.

"This won't do at all," she said, caressing the shaft. Though she let out feminine moans and hisses the pleasure from the masturbation began to fade away as the ashen scales fed on the male's virility. Her hands worked his manhood as it started to diminish, his testicles pulling taut against his crotch while his shaft shrank. Despite this, the former fox felt his body come close to climax. Just a little more and...

He and she both hissed as he came, the ensuing pleasure lasting for half a moment as his shrunken shaft pitifully dribbled out clear cum on the cold crypt's floor. Then they hissed again when his testicles pulled into a freshly formed slit, converting into inert ovaries as his inner passage tunnelled deeper and deeper until ending and forming into a womb that would never house life but would be pleased to be filled anyhow. His wide hips bucked as he took himself in, the slit shaping and stretching into soft, scaled feminine folds atop which his swollen grey clit took its place.

With that, there was no more physical sign of the Forefox-that-was. His once furred body was now covered with an ashen-scaled hide through which tendrils of red veins intermittently snaked their way through. His head was definitely draconic, his tail serpentine and lined with white spikes, and his wings no more than bony protrusions. His form too was undeniably feminine, his hips of eggbearing proportions, limbs slender and slim, chest replete with moderate, firm breasts, a plumper rear, his thighs thicker than when he had been a man, and down below was a scaled slit already slightly slick with arousal. It certainly wasn't the form of a fox warrior. He wasn't himself, and he wasn't even a he.

"No," he said, taking a step back. He froze. For a moment, this strange, alien body was his, totally under his control and then it wasn't. Instead, his head tilted down and his tongue flicked out as he lifted up the amulet to stare into it.

Abruptly Forefox felt himself drawn elsewhere. No, that wasn't right. He was already here, but here wasn't somewhere that he often remembered. He no longer saw the dracolich's body from inside, but outside as she stood in front of him, talons on her wide hips as she smiled sardonically at him. She was slightly different, her body more endowed than the one she meant to possess, one that he would not let her take. Even if she had changed his body, he wouldn't let her take it nor the mind they were currently in.

"You," he snarled, stepping forwards, towards her but that's not where he went. Instead, he merely moved in place. He snarled and looked down and found his body was foxlike and male like it was meant to be. He looked back to the dracolich. "Get out of my head!"

"But it's my mind," she said, swaying her hips at him.

"No," he growled. "It's mine!"

He looked around just to confirm. Yes, those were his foggy memories swirling about in this hazy place and those were his thoughts now that even raced to come up with a way to force her out. He balled one paw into a fist and pointed with his other at her.

"Get. Out."

Her grin broadened, her muzzle opening. She shook her head and her crimson eyes sparked.

"The mind," she began."--is a plaything of the body."

Forefox tilted his head--and gasped. For a instant he was drawn out of his mind and back to reality as she pinched at her nipples and groped at her breasts, her talons roughly scraping at the scales. Then he was back in his mindscape, panting and shivering as the arousal stayed with him while the dracolich across from him looked on in amusement.

"Don't you see?" she asked. "You're just me."

"No," he replied, regaining some of his composure. "I--"

"What?" she asked, stepping forward and grabbing him by the snout. He yelped as she turned his head to look off in the distance. "What are you?"

He gaped. The memories that floated out there...they just weren't his. They were ancient, old things but they were far clearer than the memories he had seen before. These were vivid recollections of her, her power, her penchant for possession, and most of all of familiar happenings and places she recognized. It was all so familiar.

Forefox blinked and pushed away from the dracolich, his paws brushing against her breasts. She smiled and grabbed his arms, her strong, cold grip keeping his paws there. He blinked again. No, not paws--they were clawed hands scaled in grey that presently clutched and kneaded at her breasts. The dracolich smiled.

"Nice, aren't they?" she hissed. "You have a nice pair yourself."

His snout fell open but he didn't know how to reply to that. He looked down and sure enough there was a pair of firm, ripe breasts on his chest, their ashen coloration the same as the rest of his scaled body. Or really, her body because down below wasn't a furred shealth but puffy pussy lips. Why would there be any maleness on a dracolich woman such as she?

She trembled, unsure of herself. She was separate from the other dragon now, her arms wrapped over her chest and breasts as she shivered. She looked up at the dracolich pleadingly.

"Y-you," she stuttered, her voice serpentine and feminine. "You--"

She trembled again. She felt as if something had been taken away or was it that she had lost something? Either way, she felt empty, oh so empty...

"Give it back," she demanded.

"Give what?"

She blinked. There was something missing, something she should know and yet--

She shook her head. The other dracolich smiled, showing of all her many teeth.

"I can make you whole," the dracolich purred, swaying her hips as she sidled up to the other female who looked up at her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Sure," the dracolich said. "Have a taste."

Forefox blinked as he found himself in his body again. He felt wetness trickle down his thighs as he looked down and found himself clawing at his slick slit. No, not his, he corrected himself, hers. And who was Forefox? She shook her head and grabbed her tail between her legs. Empty and whole, and here was an empty hole. Without any further thought, she plunged the tip of her tail into her scaled sex, squirming and hissing as she stuffed herself. It was all so pleasurable, all so wonderful, and exactly what she needed. She dug in as deep as she could, her inner walls clamping down on the tail as she squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples to help herself along. Finally with a screech and hiss she came, collapsing onto her rear as she basked in the afterglow, her mind moving somewhere else entirely.

She found herself again in close quarters with the dracolich in that hazy place. The dracolich smiled and hugged her close, their breasts pressing together and their nipples tickling against each other. She looked over her shoulder and saw confusing things, images that made no sense of a fox that was a warrior, a vulpine male. Why would she care about him, now that he was gone? She was herself again and him just a stepping stone into being alive again. She pushed those odd memories aside, instead choosing to thinking about her and her alone, with her penchant for possession and great necromantic power. She knew who she was now.

She drew back and stared at the dracolich. She mirrored her sardonic smile.

"I know you," she said. "I see."

"Yes," she said. "This is meant to be."

With that they became as one, for that is what they were.

*****

The dracolich opened her eyes. She looked over her form and smiled, flicking her tongue out in approval. There were still a few things that could use adjustment, however, and her soul, bolstered with the former fox's own, could aid in that.

First, the dracolich cupped her moderate breasts. She hissed as she pushed imbuement towards them, causing them to swell larger and larger until she was a well endowed dragoness indeed. She lifted each of them, smiling at their heft, and then let them drop. Next, she ran her hands down to her hips, teasing them so that they spread further apart. Afterwards, she rubbed at her thighs, coaxing them to ample thickness to match her bust and hips. Finally, she squeezed at her rear and was pleased as it rounded out to plush proportions. With this done, she looked at her bustier, curvier form and was pleased.

Slowly she rose, flapping her wing bones until she stood firmly on her three taloned feet. She walked over to the pillar and pulled the amulet off her head. She examined it briefly. Once satisfied that it contained enough of her soul's shard to propagate if need be, she placed it upon the pillar. With some mental magic she flicked the warrior's discarded clothes to the corner and laid his pouch of coins along with the amulet. Afterwards, she walked down the crypt's hall, reanimating and reforming the shattered skeletons with a flick of her claws, the decrepit undead making their way back to their resting places. When she reached the crypt's entrance, she stepped outside, hardly caring as her nude form and ashen scales were exposed to winter's wrath.

Placing her hands on her wide hips, the undead dragoness considered where to go next. She pondered visiting the sorceress who had sent the warrior here, a smile coming across her snout as she thought of the many way she could thank the vixen. There were, of course, other tantalizing options, mostly in seeing how the local populace would react to her return. Some clothes, though not necessary, would be nice. She shrugged and walked through winter, deciding that she would make her mind up later. It was not as if something as simple as the cold was going to stop her.