FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Looks like rain," Robert said, straining his eyes to look up at the sky. The clouds had come in slowly, though he recalled something about a 60% chance of precipitation on the radio. With the pain of his arthritis flaring up, he figured the oncoming pressure system confirmed rain as a certainty. In his 40 years, particularly the last ten of them, his body had always proven the superior barometer.

His wife, Anna, looked up from the garden, trowel in her dirt-stained gloves. "I'll be in in a minute. I'm almost done." It was springtime, and Robert knew she was eager to get her garden planted so that her flowers would bloom quickly. The farmer's almanac was forecasting a hot summer, and she wanted to enjoy as much time with her flowers as possible before they risked wilting in the heat.

Robert turned to head inside, making a brash comment about his wife getting wet without him. It was all in jest, of course. The two of them had been married for many years and loved the simple life they were afforded. Their suburb was relatively peaceful and even bordered on some lovely walking trails. With decent-paying jobs, both could not imagine needing much more in their lives than what they had.

"Bill, turn that racket down!" Robert said, stopping at the door to yell up at his teenage son. The open window was blasting some sort of rap music that made Robert's ears bleed. He could scarcely fathom how anyone could call such noise music!

In his hesitation, Robert felt the first drop of rain touch his skin, and he shivered. Thankfully, it was only a few drops, and he was spared the deluge that his bones told him was coming. But if he stayed out here any longer, it was likely to soak him before he even got through the door.

"Anna let's go!" He called, rubbing away the few drops that had slapped on his arm. The drops were coming faster now, a sign of the torrents to soon fall. Robert hated getting wet!

His wife stood up, trowel in hand when it really started pouring. A light shriek escaped her lips as she was suddenly soaked by the rain.

Robert left the door open for her as he stepped into the dry house. He was spared most of it but was willing to risk some of it getting inside to convenience his wife.

A bizarre tingling suddenly rose up from his arm where a few drops of rain had touched the skin. Wiping them away, Robert was surprised to feel some of the hairs of his arm going with them. He had a rather sizable pelt that his wife always loved the fondle after their lovemaking. But with a single swipe of his finger, he seemed to have made a sizable gap in what hair was left!

Looking down, Robert was startled to see several red patches coating his arm where the droplets had evidently touched. It was as though he'd had a bad reaction to something in the water. But that didn't make sense, did it? Surely, it wasn't acid rain or the like. Where had it come from, if so?

A scream broke him from his trace as he turned to see his wife barrel through the door. She was soaked, even though the sun hat she'd been wearing outside. He was frightened to see that the skin of her arms was red everywhere the water had touched. It seemed to almost bubble off her flesh, leaving patches of peeling skin. She seemed to be having a much worse reaction!

Robert went to go to her but realized there was little his hands could do but comfort her. She had been exposed to much more rain than he had, and it seemed like the reaction was overtaking her much faster. He had unlikely been exposed to enough water to do him any real harm. But his wife might really be hurt. He needed to call 911!

Yet, Robert paused slightly before getting the phone, finding himself wondering what 911 could do. If the rain was acidic or something, then wouldn't any medical personnel dispatched succumb to it as well? And, surely, there were more people outside that had been exposed. What if he couldn't get her any help?

Another scream cut the air, and Robert turned back to his wife in time to see her hair falling out from where the rain had soaked through her hat. Whisps of her graying hair floated to the ground, dissolving away as though eaten by the toxic water. She was going bald!

Robert had to do something right away. He wasn't sure what he could use to effectively wipe away the water, but he couldn't let her die. Not his love!

Yet the moment his hands went out to her, Robert got a good look at them and had to stifle his own scream. His hands were red in the places where he'd rubbed away the water from his arm. But it was the skin on his fingertips that truly drew his alarm. They had grown pointed, while the nails had evidently dissolved. They were stiff and numb, and his attempt to flex them sent tingles of irritation down his body. Worse, there seemed to be a sickly shade running from the tips, like nicotine stains. The flesh was darker, a muddied brownish-green that made Robert wonder if he was sick. What was the rain water doing to him?

A quick glance over his other arm showed the same signs of discoloration in the places that were once red. The red flesh itself was spreading in puddles outward from where the rain had touched. The blotchy patches made him look almost sickly like he'd contracted some sort of serious illness. But none that came to mind could account for this particular shade.

The patches were starting to form into minute bumps in a pattern that left him feeling confused. It was one he'd seen each day he'd been in his son's room, watching the bullfrog they'd allowed him to keep in a terrarium. The texture and color reminded him of that same frog.

He turned to his wife, suddenly more fearful for what effects the process was having on her. To his utter despair, her hair was completely gone, fallen to the floor and dissolved into the puddles of water. Her entire scalp was red, save for the few patches that had started to discolor to the same greenish-brown that was on his own arms.

Worse was how bulged her eyes appeared to be. Water had run off her hat, coating her face in streaks of reddening skin as she continued to change. But the way her eyes were coated, it seemed as though the lids had been burned off, forcing her to stare eternally forward in horror or disgust.

It was the sight of the alterations to her eyes that truly had Robert concerned. The pupils were massive, oval, and black and looking forward soullessly as she struggled with her changes. The irises were yellowed, sickly-jaundiced. And the entire expanse of her eyeballs seemed to have rotated up towards the bare skin of her scalp, which itself was starting to compress where the water had touched.

Anna seemed to be writhing in pain, yet it was not from the contact with the water or the changes themselves. He felt it in his own skin, slowly crawling over the flesh in a chilling wave. His skin was dry, painfully so. Even though the water was the evident source of the changes, he desperately craved to be submerged in more to ease the aches overcoming him!

Almost too late, he saw his wife move to the door, likely in a desperate bid for the same goal. Robert could still hear the pouring rain hitting the door that indicated the dangers of such an action. But, if the agony his wife was undergoing was even an iota greater than his own, he could understand her urge to venture outside!

Thankfully, his less-changed state was adequate to reach the target faster than she. With the urgency of a man trying to save his love, he quickly fashioned the latch, using his good hand to do so. It would only take a simple motion to undo the latch and reach the blessed relief of the water outside. But, given the weakness he felt in his own hands, it was likely she could not perform even that simple task with the changes so much further along!

Too late, Robert realized his mistake as the water drying on the handle coalesced on his hands, making the digits grow pointed and weaken. In vain, he tried to flex his fingers, but the tingling numbness assaulted them and made such action impossible. His index fingers stretched outward, the joints and bone inside snaping as they reconfigured for a more primitive form. His thumbs were even worse off, the skin dissolving away as they became vestigial and prepared to rid themselves from his new form entirely.

Robert wanted desperately to rub more water into his skin, despite his inability to do so with the state of his fingers. The idea of turning on the tap to alleviate the ache had not escaped him. However, the state of the digits made such flexibility impossible. His left hand was already worse than his right, the pointed, discolored fingers barely able to move in any semblance of human fashion. And, to his disdain, a thin layer of webbing started forming between them, even as flattening palms threatened removal of his human hands altogether.

The amphibious skin had spread up the left arm, the muscles underneath weakening as it did so. Robert could already feel how loose his cuffs felt over his upper arm, as though his arms were shrinking. His right was in a similar state, covered with green and brown skin that seemed sallow on his frame. His shoulders ached from the pain of compression as his body continued to shrink.

He had been trying his best to avoid looking at Anna, not wanting to see what was becoming of his lovely wife. The thought of calling out to her was tainted by the notion that he might elicit an amphibian call that would startle his sensibilities.

His wife had no such qualms. Either that, or she had lost control. A loud "RRRIIIIBBBIIITTT" resounded in the room, deeper than any frog bellow should be. It was coming from her widening lips as their flesh turned gummy and spread to the sides of her compressing cranium. It was obvious that she was shrinking, her damp clothes loose around her form where they had been sticking to it just moments ago. Yet, her head was much larger than should have been relative to her body, indicative of amphibian proportions she would soon carry.

Robert was frightened to see how much faster she was changing than he, in correlation to the amount of water she'd been exposed to. Her shirt was loose on her frame, exposing a greenish-brown belly. Her breasts, one of his wife's prized features, were starting to deflate like popped balloons, the areolas gone as they flattened into the flesh of her trunk. Her own fingers were nearly gone now, amphibian digits useless for doing much more than holding her up.

The idea of trying something, anything, to halt the process was not lost to Robert's sensibilities. But there was so little he could contrive with the speed of the transformation overtaking them. He was helpless as his own body continued to shrink, making his clothes baggy on his frame.

To his utter horror, his own balding scalp was rapidly shedding itself of its hair, falling around him in a blanket like his wife's. His skin was starting to feel dry along his forehead, as more of that damned amphibian skin raced across it. It was spreading so fast, even in the areas that were not exposed to water!

It was almost impossible to resist the needs of his skin, that dry sensation that would not relent. Yet, Robert had no reprieve other than to suffer as more of his flesh altered, spreading over his body in a wave as the process seemed to accelerate. He could see the browned skin of his belly under his shirt as it started to billow from his decreased mass. Hair fell from his beard as more of the amphibian skin encroached over his head. There was so little of his pale human tone already.

The contours of his scalp started to crack with change, making Robert fear what was coming. He tried to keep his mouth closed, but a widening grin denoted the same fate as that of his wife. His teeth felt loose in their sockets, though he had no way to touch them with his hands in their current configuration. To his horror, some of the teeth started falling from his mouth and forced him to spit them out. Only tiny pegs retained, springing from rubbery gums.

A strange sensation swelled from his tongue as the muscle started to stretch, coiling backward in a neck and throat that was significantly expanding. Though Robert already sported a double chin, the size of it was ballooning far beyond that. The motion forced a deep baritone to escape from his mouth against his wishes.

"RRRIIIIBBBIIITTT!"

He was croaking like the frog he was becoming!

Robert's eyes started to water, burning as the lids widened to allow the sockets extra room. He tried blinking, yet only a thin slip of an eyelid responded to his mental commands. His world was momentarily shattered, the images foggy and blurred. Part of his mind, the curious part, the explorer, thought it might be a lens to see underwater. But it was far more frightening a prospect to know that it was his eyes now with that adaptation.

The fog over his world was his only brief reprieve from the changes assaulting both he and his wife. His eyes continued to bulge outward, forced to the top of his compressing skull. His mouth was so wide now, spreading to his cheeks on either side as it continued to grow. The muscles in his tongue too, seemed to thicken beyond all human reasoning.

Deciding there was no use delaying the inevitable, Robert allowed the new membranes over his eyes to open to view the last moments of his humanity. He could hardly see his wife anymore, her frog head poking out of clothes that were too many sizes too small. Yet, an incessant croaking from her ballooning throat made it apparent that she was either exploring her body or had little control of its functions. Was she losing her mind as well?

Robert's own head was in a similar state, and while he felt some stirring of instinct, it was still him in control. He hoped to all hope that his mind would hold out, lest he found some way to eventually get help. But, it was still impossible for him not to feel his ballooning throat expand to nearly the proportions of his head, eliciting that frightening croak that would haunt his nightmares

"RRIIIBBBIIITTT!" "RRRRRIIIIIIIIBBBBIIIITTTT!"

With his larger eyes, Robert had the unfortunate view of the rest of his facial features altering. His nose started to sink, its bones and cartilage compressing into his face with a series of wet cracks. All that remained were two nasal openings, making it hard for Robert to breathe. Yet, he quickly became aware that even his limited breaths were not providing him air. Was the thinner membrane of his amphibian skin allowing him to breathe? He wished he'd paid more attention in biology classes all those years ago!

Similarly, the cartilage in his ears was starting to compress, the entire stricture dissolving away. Soon, the remaining holes were covered over with a thin membrane, and the distant sounds of the world outside were obscured. Nothing was left of the external ear, and barely any human-like structures lay within.

Robert realized with a start that he couldn't hear, not in the way that a human could. His vibrating membrane easily picked up the croaks from his wife as she panicked with her changes. But beyond that, nothing sounded the same! The frequency of the vibrations he was detecting was all wrong.

The ground was starting to rush up to meet him now as he continued to change. His shirt was billowing around him, and Robert's pants had nearly fallen to the ground, belt far too loose to hold them up. Thickening things and shrinking calves soon removed the problem as the material fell to the floor in a heap. He tried to step out of them, but the changes to his belly made the motion impossible and he fell face forward to the floor.

The impact should have hurt significantly, but his reduced weight made it all but painless. Another vibration from the floor made it known that his wife had fallen as well, her own descent shortened by a smaller stature. Though the speed of Robert's transition was increasing, his wife was only half of his mass and shrinking faster. With her changes, she was indistinguishable from a frog!

Robert was not too far behind. The world towered over him, his fridge and stove and counter like skyscrapers to his new size. It was nauseatingly dizzying to fall so far so fast, yet he could do nothing to halt the process. He was forced to sit there, the agony of the change leaving him immobile as he resigned himself to his fate.

Robert could feel the squelching of his innards as his heart lost a chamber, his lungs reduced capacity, and his digestive system shortened. Yet, he had no concept of the internal changes, only that his insides felt horribly wrong, somehow. He knew the process should have killed him a dozen times over. Yet, whatever force or chemical that was responsible for mutating him seemed to have him fated to remain alive despite the horror of the process he was going through.

To his embarrassment, he could feel his cock come to an erection, though it was much smaller than before, in relation to his body. Far too rapidly for his liking, he felt his balls empty and his cock shoot a tiny load of cum into the pants below. He would have felt embarrassed, though it was impossible for even his wife to know what had happened.

Robert felt a sick sensation as his testicles and his cock were pulled inside of him. He winced at the realization. Frogs didn't have penises, did they? There must be something internal that made up for it, though he was unsure how the new anatomy worked.

Another shiver ran through him as his anus started to move towards his groin. His two systems were sickenly merging into one opening. He felt disgusted at the realization. He didn't want a cloaca! He didn't want to be a frog!

The changes assaulted his lower body now as Robert winced. His hips were building up with layers of muscle far larger relative to the size he was now. Despite his shrinking stature, the muscle continued to expand against his skin, nearly tearing through the surface of the weaker flesh. It felt as though the muscle was bunched up with unfathomable energy, making him feel a sense of power despite his small stature. Were these his jumping muscles?

Movement caught his attention as his massive eyes honed in on a frog hopping towards him. He assumed it was Anna, though nothing of his wife's former visage remained in the animal. She was coming to be next to him, to take what solace they could with their still-human minds.

Yet, the sight of another frog set a stirring in his loins that made him very confused. His crotch ached, as though forming something inside that needed out. The sensations left his opening leaking and the fluids giving his insides more pleasure than he thought possible. His cloaca started pulsating opened and closed, as though preparing to release... something.

A scent in the air caught his attention, one that spoke of lust and needs. Or, at least that was how his changing sensibilities interpreted it as such. It was difficult to wade through the complex feelings and emotions that his frog body was giving him. It felt as though he was horny. Yet, the feelings from his groin were alien, far different from anything he'd known. Was this the amphibian drive to mate?

There was an undeniable desire to go to Anna, to mate with his former wife if Robert was interpreting the instincts right. But, he couldn't do that as a frog, could he? Would he have any choice in the matter once the change was done?

The only thing presently hindering him was his current state of transformation, incomplete to his lower half. Though he was three times the size of the fully-formed bullfrog in front of him, that was soon to change. He could feel his calves stretching, his toes starting the enlarge, in particular, the middle digits. His big toe grew stiff and unmovable, though the other digits could move just slightly. The bones within felt small and brittle, though they bent easily within the confines of his foot as it squished under the weight of his hips.

The last of the changes overtook his foot as the heel stretched, allowing his calves to bend backward and his legs to compress in on themselves as though he was squatting. The now-familiar tingle crept in as his toes formed webbing in between, removing any ability of the digits to move independently as it ran nearly to the toe tips. Robert was now a complete bullfrog.

With that, Robert felt only a tingling as his body continued to lose mass. Where it was going, he had no idea. It should have been impossible for his human mass to completely evaporate, leaving nothing but a small frog where once stood a relatively massive human. But then, no chemical in the rain should have been able to change him, either.

Looking over at his wife, Robert found that he was now the same size, nearly identical in coloration. Worse, that potent scent was wafting from her backside into his nostrils. Robert realized that he was no longer breathing from his nose and that his nasal openings were just used for scent. In particular, the hormones of her lust were of utmost attention. He wanted-no-needed to mate.

There was something off about the scent wafting from his own loins, one that smelled too much like the ones coming from her opening. Yet, it was her constant croaks that kept his attention. The throbbing in her throat kept his going in turn, a chorus of frog bellows that sang of their mutual need.

Yet, the idea of mating in this body was outright repulsive. Robert struggled against the instincts in his body, trying to get away from the potential source of the distress. Even if it was his wife, he had to try and fight the urge.

He wasn't sure how to move in his new body, but all the information was somewhere present in his mind for the attempt. With a start, he was gone, the powerful muscles in his legs forcing him up and through the air, easily twice his height and further still. He had no idea how it was possible, but after hitting the ground, he was off again, easily gaining more distance than he could walk in this body. It was almost exhilarating!

Though it was hard to tell from the angle of his body, Robert was sure that he had entered the family room. There was a massive mountain before him, likely the staircase. His wife was in hot pursuit, though he wasn't sure if she was still hoping for companionship, or was looking to mate. Either way, at the moment, Robert only knew he had to escape and maybe avoid a worse fate.

Just then, the sounds of massive vibrations coming from the mountain hit his membranes, and he stopped scared of the large being that was evidently approaching. His brain tried frantically to make sense of things as a pair of shapes descended the stairs. The amphibian part of his brain screamed at him to run, to try and escape predation. But the human part understood what the moving, cavernous blue denim statues and white boulders underneath really were.

His heart leaped in his chest as he saw the shadow of another human approaching him. It had to be Bill, there was no doubt in his mind. Could his son help them? Or, at least, recognize them?

Robert pondered what he could do to get his son's attention. After all, if Bill was in his room blasting music, there was a possibility that he wouldn't know what was going on. But, they had the clothes to prove they had shrunk out of them, right?

As he contemplated his next move, Robert felt the presence of his wife coming up to him, rubbing against his back. Her entire body was quivering, as though preparing for something. To Robert's shock, the sensations made his arousal known to him once more. That urge to expel overrode his concerns of convincing his son he was a man and not a frog.

Robert wanted to move. He wanted to try and escape and come up with a plan to get his son's attention. Yet, the touch of his wife against his back was divine in a way he'd never known. Her mere carass on his backside was enough to stimulate whatever new needs his body had.

Robert croaked, feeling something moist and sticky pushing out of his back end which sent shivers through his tiny body. He started matching his former wife's tempo, trying to coax more of the things out of his backside and the pleasure to increase. His wife was pushing faster as well, and Robert felt something gooey against his rear as the same substance touched his skin. It was warm and moist, just the texture he'd been looking for ever since he'd been deprived of the water!

Too late, he failed to notice the shadow descend upon him, and massive hands clutch his body. Instinctively, Robert tried to struggle but was helpless as his son picked him up in one hand and his wife in the other. He could see her trying to struggle as well, in vain as her tiny body was held firm. He didn't think Bill would actually hurt them, but the impulse to try and escape was strong.

He could tell his son was saying something, but could not understand what it was with his missing ears. The vibrations didn't register in his brain the way they should have. It was only one more indication that he had fallen so far from humanity.

One sight caught his eyes as he was lifted up in the air and then up the stairs as Bill evidently took them to his room. The messy pile that had fallen from them both was a translucent, gelatinous ooze, speckled with tiny black dots. It looked like... then did that mean... but how?

Robert hardly had time to contemplate as he was swept away up through several massive open spaces, before being taken through a smaller entrance that he assumed was Bill's room. Frogs still in hand, Bill reached down with two fingers to lift something from an expansive black abyss. The wheels began turning as Robert recalled what had triggered his memory when he was first changing. As he was lowered down into a moist chamber, Robert's assumptions were confirmed. He was being placed in the terrarium!

The moment the cool water hit his skin, Robert felt himself start to relax. The moisture was a welcome reprieve from the dryness that had assaulted him. The terrarium was set to a constant heat and moisture level, one that made Robert almost fall into his amphibian instincts. After all, what else would he need?

To his dismay, two things were missing that his body was obligated to obtain to satisfy its needs. The first was a hunger, a gnawing pain that filled him with a bizarre emptiness. Robert wasn't sure what to do, or why his body stayed still when it should be finding food. Still, Robert knew from experience what sorts of things frogs ate, and was not eager to experience it first hand.

The decision was quickly taken from him as movement from behind caught his field of vision. It was almost a fourth of the size of him, though far thinner. At this scale, Robert was hard pressed to determine what it was. It was too small to be the other frog, he knew.

The motion of the thing hopping immediately caught the attention of his frog's brain, and Robert turned around far faster than he was expecting. Instantly, his tongue shot forth, and speared the poor creature, catching it on its sticky surface.

Before Robert realized what was happening, the cricket was in his mouth, squirming and trying to escape. But it was held fast by his tongue, and gripped by the tiny pegs that made up his teeth. Robert couldn't chew with teeth like that, but the cricket was soon pulled back into his gullet to be worn down by his digestive juices.

Robert hardly had time to be disgusted by the scene before he remembered the presence of the tank's other inhabitant. Movement caught his eye, and he turned to look at the larger bullfrog, who had crawled its way over to him. It unnerved him with its presence. This was a true frog, and this was its home. How would it react to Robert's intrusion?

Yet, there was a scent in the air that seemed to draw his attention more than the odor that was leaking off his wife, or even himself. It turned Robert on like nothing before. His legs started squirming, as though crawling towards the source of the alluring scent.

It was the ache in his groin that brought his attention back to the action he had committed earlier. He wasn't sure then with the fluids mixed together. But the scent, in tandem with the male's behavior, made Robert certain. The other frog was larger, with different coloration when compared to both Robert's and Anna's. Robert had changed not only in sex but in gender!

Yet the horror of the realization was not sufficient to take him from the mating action. His sex practically begged to be stimulated by the being on top of him. Robert did not move a muscle as the male moved atop him, squishing his backside against Robert's own. Gripping Robert tightly around the chest, the male moved into a position that allowed Robert to truly feel his presence.

Robert then started squirming uncontrollably, writhing under the attention as he strained for all the stimulation he could get. The male kept mashing his nethers against Robert's own, more intently now that the female was reciprocating.

The feeling of the male's fluids leaking down his back was more than enough to stimulate him into ovulation. He could feel his cloaca undulating, a mass of eggs prepared to be unloaded. The sensation of the gelatin they were encased in slurping out of his loins was more sublime than anything he was prepared for. He needed nothing more than to have the male's sperm coat his expulsion!

The mating act was relatively short, the male's load spent after a few humps. Robert could still feel eggs squelching from his opening, desperate to have as many expelled as possible. But it didn't matter. Enough would be fertilized to ensure the next generation. It was powerfully satisfying to know he had met the ultimate goal of reproducing, the primal need to extend his line!

A few more eggs squished from his cloaca, leaving him content and satisfied. He was barely aware that the male was crawling toward Anna, sperm still dripping from his own backside. He was going to mate with her as well. And Anna was just as eager to be bred as Robert had been!

Yet, at the moment, he didn't care. The knowledge that a male has stimulated his sex, had forced him to expel his eggs and fertilized them in turn carried with it more promise than any human experience could have prepared him for. And how could he deny his wife that?

Lost in the post-organic reverie, Robert allowed himself to sink into the simple mind of a frog. Such a creature as he had all that was required within this habitat. His cares would come later, as the reality of his situation sank in...

******

The rain had died down, or at least the warmth of the sun on the terrarium seemed to indicate that the sun had come out. Robert had no way to know how long he'd been in here, though, judging from the position of the sunbeam on his tank, it had at least been a day. He felt no need to sleep, though periods of restfulness did overcome him several times during the night, between mating sessions.

A small part of him had hoped that the sunlight on his skin would revert him back to a human, even though the tank was far too small for him to fit. He even sat in it until it became uncomfortable on his damp skin. Nothing. Not even a tingle emanated from his skin to indicate that he might return to humanity. Though it was far too soon to be sure there was no reprieve, Robert felt his hope waning already.

Anna had not bothered to return his attempts at communication. She had mated more times than he had during the period they had been trapped here. He tried to touch her, though his tactile abilities were lacking. She was either ignorant of his advances or pushed him away for more amphibious pursuits.

He was afraid he'd lost her already to the instincts that had been playing over them both. It took some effort himself to keep from falling into the drives of his frog's body. Though the needs were simple, they were powerful in their simplicity. That, and with very little else to focus his attention, it was easy to catch himself eating, mating, or swimming submerged.

To his distaste, the habitat had been loaded with slugs, crickets, and other tasty treats that the human him would have found repulsive. But, often without his consent, his body would satisfy the needs in his rumbling belly. His tongue would flick out by its own volition, and Robert was only aware of the action when his peg-like teeth had his prey firmly entrenched before swallowing it whole.

He could not understand his son, nor the music he was still listening to. Only a series of vibrations echoing through the tank denoted that music was being played, much to Robert's chagrin. He had hoped he'd be able to at least hear his son talking, but any words were simply vibration. It seemed that even with human intellect he was without the ability to understand language!

He was a little more concerned with the lack of sight on his son as the day went on. It was a weekend, and Bill didn't have school. There was no reason that Bill would be gone for an extended period. Perhaps he had gone to find his parents? Robert shuddered at the thought of what that might mean.

His thoughts started to drift to dark places. Surely, the tainted rain hadn't been exclusive to their corner of the street. Anyone else drenched, even by a little, would likely find themselves changing. And what about the rain still on the grass or walk? The drinking water? Was everyone exposed indirectly doomed to become frogs? How far had the infection spread? Had it happened to Bill, as well?

As the day waned on, Robert found his mood waning the more thoughts of the unknown played over him. There was every chance that he was trapped here, with no help coming. They had plenty of food in the habitat, but what if no one came back? What if their son was out there, changing and being eaten by an animal or killed by people still fearful of the infection?

Sighing internally, Robert closed his eyes, bringing forth the instincts that had been subtly assaulting his senses since the transformation began. He knew, deep down that he had no control of his fate. There was little likelihood of rescue or aid. He would pain himself with thoughts of hopelessness and despair as he sat here in the body of a frog. That was not a life worth living, regardless of how long it was to last.

The instincts came more easily as Robert let them in. It was easy for him to sink into the mind of a frog, to eat and mate and simply exist.

One last human thought made it clear that he was not done with his mating cycle. Cloacae squelching, he grunted as it forced a few unfertilized eggs into the water of the habitat. The male was on him in an instant, humping at his backside to encourage him to lay more eggs. Robert's mind glazed over, the pleasure emanating from his sex only amplifed with the male's quivering on his back. He knew his eggs would be fertilized. He had food and moisture and was safe from predators. He was happy.