FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Your body still feels... well, not your own. You let your hands roam across your chest for a moment, trying to grow accustomed to the feeling of the six breasts that are resting on your chest -- you aren't sure that you'll be able to, and instead, you head for the closet with a bit of trepidation. The whole prospect of the room shifting and changing without your knowledge of the fact that it was going to happen was one thing; your transformation is another.

But, in the end, you know that you'll find a way to make it work.

"Bitch..." You mutter the word again under your breath, oddly shocked at how degrading it feels, even though you know that it's just the technical term for a female dog; your mind is still quite human, after all. That isn't what it has meant any time you've heard or said it. You pull open the closet doors and let out a low, surprised whistle.

There are a lot of clothing options to choose from in here. It's more than you have in your closet, that's for sure. You grab the first shirt that you can find, and you're both relieved to cover up your copious amount of breasts, and a bit irritated that it's clearly designed to accentuate them. It's much the same as the human world in the fact that the clothing can be modest and yet form fitting all at once -- in this world, however, form-fitting means that anyone and everyone who sees you is going to see the multiple pairs of swelling on your chest.

It's all a bit too strange for you. You know the rules of the game that you're playing, and you know that you have to eventually find next costume that you need to wear... but you know that you can't simply rush into it.

You can hardly manage to walk around the room with the way that your legs bend, the joints completely different from what you're used to. There's an entirely different physical structure to your body -- though you're anthropomorphic, your body retains features of the dog that you've turned into...

And there's also the fact that you're missing a very essential part of who you once were, and the fact that you can walk without feeling it between your legs is disconcerting, to say the least.

No, you think that you'll just stay in your room for the day... whatever your room is.

You clasp the ID firmly in your paw, which is a strange sensation all on its own, and you back up towards the bed -- your eyes shift down to it again, and you let out a small sigh.

"Bitch..." You mutter the word out again with a small sigh, letting the pad of your fingertip play against the ID.

The fact that you have an ID at all makes you wonder exactly what your life is here; the rules that were set out before you were strange... and you weren't sure that you'd really understood everything after all. You'd made the decision to go along with what was happening because you felt like there was nothing else that you could do, but now that you've done it...

You feel lost.

The mattress beneath your legs is comfortable for a moment, and then you let out a small yelp as you sit on your tail. Your head quickly flashes around, and you take a second to look at the giant floof that extends from the base of your spine and outward. It moves almost of its own volition, wagging back and forth as you stare at it... and you have to admit to yourself that it's an odd and yet exciting sensation.

There's something about all of this that's exciting in its own level -- even the fact that your body is a female instead of male is exciting. It's nothing that you'd ever thought to want before, but now that you're experiencing it...

Well, suffice to say, you realize that it isn't so bad after all.

You take a deep breath, and you realize that you're picking up scents that you hadn't before; you're picking up so much that you hadn't before. Everything is amplified, and everything is almost mind-numblingly in your face. You can feel your nose twitch from the scents that are trailing through your newly-heightened sensory system, and your stomach starts growling.

You hadn't realized it, but you're far hungrier than you were when you came into the room with the costumes. Apparently, the new body comes with a new set of needs and desires... and one of those desires, and now the main thing on your mind is the smell that is spilling through your nose.

Meat -- warm, perfect meat. You need it. Your stomach growls and some instinct inside of you seemed to take over; you know that dogs are different than humans in the sense that they fill their needs when they have them, and that their needs have a certain level of importance different to humans. After all, when you were hungry before, you could just call and order a pizza.

Maybe you could do that here, but you certainly didn't see a phone anywhere around you. There was just the closet with the clothing, and the ID that you still held in your hand. You shrug, clip it to your shirt, and stand up.

You wobble slightly on your legs, but after a few moments of pacing around the room, you find the stride that you need to be able to walk without making a fool of yourself. Your nose is still twitching, and you can feel saliva building up on your tongue from desire. The food that you want is close by -- either that, or your senses are another thing that you need to grow accustomed to. Whatever the case, you're going to get to it. You exit through the door that leads out, and you're once again taken aback. You noticed the world shifting around you before, but noticing it and really seeing it is two different things.

This is not the hallway that you walked in through. This isn't even a hallway at all.

You were in a motel room, and now you're standing outside... and this is not your world.

There's something off about the light; it's not that it's brighter, and it's not really that it's more dull, either. It's just a different shade. The sun is orange, not yellow. It seems closer, as well, larger to look at. Maybe it's just the difference between your canine and human eyes that makes it seem that way.

Maybe this is all a dream and you're going to wake up soon.

The world is full of the word maybe, and you don't have time to try to figure it out. Standing outside, the scent of food is stronger than it was before. Your eyes are instantly drawn to a building that looks like a restaurant only a few blocks away. That's where the smell is coming from...

And that's where you need to be.

You mean to walk, but somehow you're going at a jog -- it seems perfectly natural for you, and the new structure of your body and legs makes the motion something akin to second nature. More than that, your body is reacting differently to the motion than it would have if you were human. You weren't a fitness fanatic; you could run, but you could tell that you were running the instant that you started it. You could jog, but if you did you could feel a stitch forming at your side. You certainly wouldn't have been taking deep, even breaths as though you were doing nothing than going on a leisurely walk.

You can feel it though, your body is designed for this. Even though it's an odd sensation to feel those six breasts on your chest bouncing in time with the ID tag that you have pinned to the collar of your shirt, it isn't putting a damper on your ability to move.

It's natural, and it's relaxing to you. You're working towards a goal, and the jog turns into a run that carries you the rest of the way to your destination in no time. You're suddenly at the door, and you see a line of people standing in front of you.

Only, they aren't really people -- not in the conventional term of what you understand that to be. Some are taller than you by head and shoulders. Some are much shorter and only come up to your collarbone. You recognize the species as you look at them -- Great Dane, Rottweiler, Poodle, Pomeranian... all of the dogs that you'd see at a dog park are there, standing on two legs and waiting in line for the mouthwatering scent that is all but taking over your mind now.

"ID," the gruff voice to your left draws you up to a stop. Even the sound of it isn't something that you're used to. It's a mixture of human vocalization and growling, and your ears twitch and try to turn towards it a moment before you whip your head to the side.

The Malamute is large, taller than you by a head. His frame is lithe and built well, and you can see the muscle rippling beneath the white fur that adorns his body. He looks you up and down for a moment, and you can see his pink nose twitching in the air, as though he intends to catch your full ID simply from the scent of you. For a moment, you're a bit dumbfounded -- but then, you remember the piece of plastic clipped to your shirt, and you quickly pull it up so that he can see it.

Icy eyes scrutinize it for a moment, and then his gaze flickers back to the line behind you. His head tilts, and then he nods. "Number four. Go get in line." Without hesitation, he hands you a plastic disc with a red number four blaring along the screen of it, and turns his eyes from you dismissively.

Number four -- there's no more information than that, but you have a good idea of what he means. You can see the other anthromorphs standing there with similar pieces of paper in their paws, and the three at the front of the line have their numbers bright red and shining even in the dim lighting.

One.

Two.

Three.

And you're four.

It's a pecking order -- biggest to smallest. It's something close to a pack infrastructure, though you can tell that it isn't just about height. Some of the dogs are in front of others who are taller than them... but their faces look more aggressive, their bodies are built more than the fluff of the others.

It's survival of the fittest, and you find yourself silently thanking whatever lucky stars that there are that you picked a costume that was a German Shepherd and not something small like a pug.

You'd never get to eat then -- the poor Pom at the back of the line lets out a little whine as the number on its disc shifts back from twenty to twenty-one when you take your place. You look back, and its little brown eyes focus angrily on you for a moment; a growl pools from your throat before you can stop yourself, and though it looks like it wants to fight for a moment, it quickly drops its gaze.

Dominance.

You have dominance.

It's a strange sensation that is both shocking and something that sends you rippling with pride and pleasure -- and it only causes the hunger that you're feeling to deepen. Your attention turns rapt to the front of the line as you get to move up a spot, and soon enough, you're at the counter.

"ID, please?" The hound that stands behind the corner has the same irritation that the bouncer who pointed you to the line has. This time, you just pull the clip off of your shirt and hand it to him. Instead of looking at it, he flips it over and scans a barcode that you didn't even notice was there. A picture shows up on the screen in front of him -- though it isn't your new face, in particular, it is a face that reflects the German Shepherd that you've changed into. Statistics pop up, and they look strikingly similar to the numbers that you read up on when you were considering getting a dog and you were looking into their needs and requirements.

The numbers scroll and list: height, weight, requirements, food needed.

That number highlights. Three servings, athletic build. High protein diet required.

"Your order will be at the window. Move on." He swiped the card again, and a beeping, trilling sound spills through the air before he gestures you to the left. For a moment, your growling stomach can't comprehend what just happened.

"I said move on." The hound looks up, his jowls wobbling slightly and his scowl very predominate on his face. You can see that, even though he's a smaller dog than you, he'd be completely willing to shred you apart within a moments notice if necessary.

That, paired with the fact that you see the second window off to your left now is enough to make you move. When you walk up to the window, a tray is instantly slid in your direction. You take it with a low pant of desire and pull it close to your face. There are two steaks there, as large as your head, and a side serving of some kind of grains. You sniff the plate, and your nose twitches into near over-drive; you can smell each and every spice on the meat, and it makes you all the hungrier. Your eyes roam for a moment; to the left of the window, there is a seating area... and though you aren't sure that you are supposed to go there, the thought of taking the food out and all of the way back to the little motel room where you appeared is too much for you. Instead, you shift into the first available seat and you start to eat.

Nothing has ever tasted so good to you in all your life, and you're beginning to realize that maybe this whole dog thing isn't going to be so bad after all.

---

There seems to be a pecking order to everything that you do. You get your food in the same manner as you did the first time, regardless of where you go. The only problem is the fact that there are some canines who are bigger than you... and, you're realizing, the fact that your ID tag labels you as a Bitch means that you are of a particular interest to the male dogs. You notice it when one of them comes up and sniffs you; it's enough to make your hair prickle to a stand-up and a low growl to spill from your throat.

"Easy there, girl. I'm just testing the waters."

"Go test it somewhere else," you spit the words out at the Doberman, your eyes narrowing and your ears pinning back. "Maybe you'll drown."

But even as you say that, there's a sinking feeling that you won't be so lucky if a dog much bigger or more dominant than you comes sniffing around.

Even though you're thoroughly enjoying your new found physique and status, there's a part of you that feels like it isn't worth the worry of what might happen if one of those male dogs decides that you're his bitch and tries to mount you.

The only thing that brings you a bit of peace is the fact that you aren't in heat, as far as you can tell. If things work here in the same manner that you've come to expect over the few days that you've been in this female dogs body, you know that you'll be alright as long as that doesn't happen. Still, as the days pass and you go out and explore more and more of your surroundings, you notice more and more male dogs sniffing around you.

It doesn't make you feel the best, that's for sure. You have to wonder if this is some kind of comeuppance for all of the times that you catcalled women back in your world.

If it is, you're more than ready to be rid of it now, even though you have a feeling that something just shy of a week isn't really enough time to have gained penance for anything.

Instead, you spend as much time as you can in places that allow you to still enjoy the change that has occurred with your body.

You discover that there is something akin to a gym by your little motel room; it's more of an obstacle course than a gym though, and it's focused on physical activity instead of weight lifting... but as soon as you start using it, you realize how much you are enjoying it, and enjoying the fact that your body is capable of such feats at all. You would never have expected this before, and to have such liberties and movement now is very appealing to you. What's better about the gym area is the fact that they have divisions; one course is for females and one for males... and within your first day there, you figure out why.

"Going into heat soon?" A small tri-red Australian Shepherd speaks to you. Her green eyes are a pretty color, but her words bring you up short when you're about to hit the agility course.

"Excuse me?"

"No offense, but I can smell it on you. It's going to happen soon, isn't it? No wonder you're on the women's track. Want to get in a few more days of peace before it starts, huh?" Her face is friendly and sweet, and she speaks about you going into heat like it's something that you should be looking forward to. You certainly aren't -- in fact, you give a small shudder and shake your head.

"I'd prefer to avoid it altogether, if it's all the same to you." Your words bring her up short, so much that she tilts her head to the side and her ears perk up slightly.

"You can't do that though... it's natural. It's what we were made for." She speaks the words as though she believes them, and as though your questioning of the logic of what she's used to is almost blasphemy to her. Clearly, the society here is something strange to you... something that you can't quite grasp. It isn't about possessions or wealth. It isn't about materialism. It's about what you can offer to the next generation, it's about pecking order.

It's about pure instinct.

"So I'm just supposed to let it happen?" Your voice sounds a little strained, and you can hear the whine replacing the growl. She offers you a kind look, and starts stretching before her run.

"It's your first time, isn't it? Don't worry... it only hurts for the knotting. And as long as your stud is a handsome one, the pups will make you forget all about that."

Knotting.

There's that word again, and it makes your stomach sink.

"What if I just... don't?"

"Well, you can't do that, can you?" She gives you the answer that you don't want to hear as though it's the only answer that there is. With another kind look, she takes off at a sprint, leaving you with more questions than answers and a feeling of dread building in your stomach over something that seems damn near inevitable for you to avoid, even though you were so sure that you weren't going to have to deal with it at all.

__

The days melt into one another, and you find that you're starting to get used to this form, and starting to feel like it's something that you could continue to get used to. Still, you don't want to get stuck like this, and you know that you're going to have to look for the new costume soon. The simple fact of the matter is, you aren't sure exactly where you're supposed to be looking, and it isn't exactly intuitive. Instead, you decide to simply explore the town that you're in a little bit more; it's something that you've been avoiding, with the way that the male dogs have been chasing at your heels.

It's something that you've been avoiding, because whether you want to admit or not... you can feel a curling heat beginning to build in your midsection, and you have a feeling that it isn't something that you really want to happen at all. When a few spots of blood come away after you use the bathroom, you find yourself completely and utterly nervous about going out... but you have to.

As much as you've enjoyed your time as a canine, you don't want to stay this way forever, after all.

So, you go out early in the morning. You've noticed that there aren't half so many of your fellow anthromorphs out when the sun has just risen. Sure, there are some early joggers, but half of those are female... and you don't think that the other half will give you as much trouble as you're worried about. At least, you hope that you're right in this particular instance.

At first, things seem all right. You work your way down the street, hitting the department stores that are open in the early hours. Though you look around, you see nothing that is similar to the costume that you put on initially, and nothing that will point you in the direction of where you need to go. Wandering idly is still your best bet, and it's when you leave the mall that you notice it.

There's a male dog following you -- worse, he's a damn mastiff, who has both height and weight on you. You are one hundred percent certain that you wouldn't be able to fight him off, if it came down to it. You're also one hundred percent certain that you aren't being paranoid. His nose turns to the air and sniffs, and then you see his eyes focus rapt on you. What the little Australian Shepherd said to you earlier comes back to you now -- it's instinct, and everyone was expected to follow it.

Your mind is still human enough that you decide that you don't need to deal with this. You take off at a run, zigging to the direction of your motel; maybe you'll just worry about finding the costume later, once things have settled down.

Things aren't that easy though, because when you shift to turn down an alley so you can lose the mastiff, another German shepherd appears in front of you. He's much taller than you are, his chest broader, and his coat a sleek and gorgeous black. The fact that you're noticing just how well shaped he is, and for a moment your mind drifts to what pretty pups he'd give you startles you. It brings you up short and makes you stop running... and just those few moments are enough for the mastiff to nearly catch up to you.

"I don't think so, boys." You mutter the words aloud, but your voice is a low whine. Still, even though they look at you with confusion, they take a moment to growl at once another as you dart off again, in the opposite direction of your motel, but at least it's also in the opposite direction of the two male dogs who are chasing you.

Sometime during your little sprint to freedom, another male joins the fray; this one is a spaniel, and you know that if it comes down to it, the other two will shred him apart. It might have been a relief, if it weren't for the fact that those two males who were going to do the shredding also wanted to be with you.

It didn't bring you relief that your body is pounding and beating, and a small part of you wants to fall short so they can catch you; no, that just makes you redouble your efforts.

You can hear them behind you now -- the pattering of their claws on the ground is enough to make your heart thunder all the quicker with the knowledge that you're fighting biology. You aren't sure how much longer you're going to be able to resist in and of yourself, and you aren't sure if running is going to continue to be a viable option if you end up giving in to your instincts.

You are one hundred percent certain that the last thing that you want to do is to experience what knotting feels like. There are four males behind you now, and you can hear the panting of their tongues lolling out of their mouth, you can hear the whuffing of their noses as they scent your own lust in the air. You can smell it yourself, your desire riding hot and high... but you aren't going to give into it -- you aren't that far gone yet. Your vagina is hot, your entire body warm and wet and wanting...

But you still have enough sense in your mind to keep running, and to grab the first door handle that you can find and wrench it open.

This is a different store than the mall that you were in before, a smaller boutique that you might have found charming before. The store owner gives you a shocked expression, and you quickly turn around behind you and slam the lock on the door closed.

"Hey, you can't do that!" You're lucky that the owner is a female, and even though you would hope that she might give you some sympathy, you can see that you'll find none of that with the little pug that is staring at you like you're committing a crime.

"Please, I just..." You're out of breath, but you know that it isn't from your run. It's a mixture of adrenaline, and of your body fighting its own natural inclination. This frame that isn't your own... these instincts that are threatening to tear down your senses; now, you've gotten yourself into a situation where you might be even more screwed. You don't see a way out of the little store, and the pug is already coming from behind the counter with her hands on her hips.

Behind you, you feel the glass pane shudder a bit as the mastiff tries to rattle the door open. His eyes are all for you, and you quickly let go of the door and back up. Maybe there's a window some where, or a bathroom that you can get out of. Maybe there's a back entrance. You take off at a run again, and the pug gives you a filthy glare before going to the door, presumably to let the males in.

You don't have much time at all.

You dart to the back of the store, shoving through racks of older clothing without paying much attention to it. Your eyes meet with a sign that says STORAGE, and you know that it's your only hope. There aren't any other windows.

There aren't any other chances for escape.

What is baffling to you is that if a woman had entered a store back in your world asking for help because males were chasing her, she would have been helped. The door would have stayed locked, the police would have been called. If a woman had been dealing with this where you came from, she would have been taken seriously... at least, you certainly hoped she would have.

Here, it was so different. The pug was not only letting the males in, but you could hear her saying where you'd gone; the only thing that she was doing in any attempt to help anyone was warning them that there would be no fighting in her store, and to keep the mess to a minimal. You hear something about strong genetics and a good bloodline, and then you slam the door to the storage area behind you with your heart still thundering in your chest and a lower whimper pouring loudly from you.

Worse, the heat between your legs is beating worse now... and you've never been more aware of the fact that you have a vagina instead of the dick that you were born with. You can feel it throbbing, and it takes everything inside of you not to reopen the door and welcome the males inside. Instead, you turn to see if there is an answer in the room that you locked yourself in, just as you feel the weight of one of the males throwing themselves against the door, while the nasally tone of the spaniel asks for a key. Worse, you can hear the pug answer with the fact that she's already coming with the key, so they can hold their tails for just a moment instead of breaking down the door.

Her voice is already getting closer, and you know that you don't have much time. Instead, you turn with intentions of finding a window, or a bathroom... or a wall that looks weak enough that you can kick down -- something. Anything...

In your desperation you almost miss it. It's been more than two weeks... and you've been looking for it all along. And there it is, right in front of you.

The only thing in the storeroom is a mannequin, and on that mannequin is your next costume. The question is, will you have time to get it on before the males come in and stop you?

You certainly hope so.