FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Story by me, Sunrider, with some assistance from Killenor

Prologue

"Dr. Bruvenheim's House for Oversexed Harlots and Whores (H.O.S.H.A.W.), 407 W. Samson St. Eldritch View, Alashtia, Sector G1, Universe 26A. Providing a nurturing rehabilitative environment for socially disruptive women" was what the sign on the door said. The one on the gate, too, for that matter, but the women weren't really allowed on that side of the gate, so they always just assumed it said the same thing as the one on the door. Each of them had seen the sign more times since they came here than they cared to remember. Every jogging trip, every walk to the laundry rooms, every morning inspection had them standing before or passing by that sign, a constant reminder of why each and every "patient" was here.

Care was supposedly tailored to the individual, but in a facility that cared for over three hundred patients, all from diverse universes and backgrounds, things were bound to happen. The place was plagued by escapes, pranks, unruliness, and things just generally going wrong. The doctors and orderlies had their hands full making sure no one started a riot or jumped the mailman, so it was understandable that they wouldn't notice right away when someone missed afternoon art therapy or gym class.

None of the patients had managed to form strong bonds. In fact, their antipathy was largely encouraged, for no one wanted to see what would happen if the patients ever attempted a full out revolt. Arguments among patients were frequent and ranged in topic from who had the choicer portion of gelatin to who had the best bedroom technique. Unfortunately, the same arguments that kept patients from banding together also caused several of the disruptions that led to the constant state of havoc. Often, more opportunistic women would use this time to conveniently forget about therapy or laundry day and slip away to hide somewhere on the grounds.

The afternoon was slightly soggy and generally not the most pleasant day to be outside. Clouds hung low and full; it looked as though more showers would start any minute. The orderlies were reluctant to have to spend any time in the dreadful weather and had moved all outdoor groups inside, leaving the grounds blessedly empty for those truants who had slipped off during the confusion following a rather brutal brawl that had broken out in the dining hall over who had the perkier and more enticing breasts. Miranda had stayed just long enough to see three overjoyed orderlies pulled into the pile of writhing, fighting females.

The dragon managed to slip away; less noticeable in the feline form she wore. Shape shifting had advantages in a place like this. She didn't mind the splash of mud as she leapt from the kitchen window and landed on the moist earth. Anything to get out of art therapy. The dragon who looked like the small cat made her way out into the gardens, to a place of fresh tilled earth and newly planted flowers. She knew this place well, having been on the crew who had planted most of the flora here. She slipped into a copse of trees, making sure she was hidden from view of any of the windows before shifting back to her full, twenty-five foot long form. She allowed herself a stretch, sky blue scales rippling with the motion, before she curled up on the soft ground next to the rock garden, let her camouflage reflex take control and mask her presence, and went to sleep.

She was awoken by a sudden pain at the base of her tail followed by a thump and some very creative cursing. The dragon opened her eyes and was about to speak when she caught sight of who had tripped over her. It was the little nun that never finished her meals. Miranda watched as the nun, a lovely lemur woman with huge golden eyes and black and white markings, finished her string of curses and tried to get her fur and habit clean.

"Such words for a lady of the cloth," Miranda said, chuckling and stretching. The startled lemur looked about, eyes even wider than normal. Miranda chuckled again, letting her camouflage slip away. Finding herself suddenly face to face with a huge monster, the lemur started to back away, tripping over her hems and landing in the mud again. Miranda could no longer help it and burst into full out laughter. Angered, the little nun stood, walking right up to Miranda's face and looking directly into one huge purple eye.

"Think that's funny, do you, you overgrown lizard? Does the scaly tart think that she has a monopoly on the fucking humor here?" yelled the nun. Miranda stopped laughing and stood slowly, deliberately. The nun refused to back down. "Got news for you, bitch, comedy hour ain't til Friday night."

"Yeah, I think you're funny, little nun. I also think you might just be tasty in a stew. Nuns are supposed to be chaste, after all. I think a virgin stew would just about make my night. After all, you look too old and stringy to eat tar-tar." Grinning, the dragon rose and struck out with one taloned hand, pinning the nun to the ground before she could get away.

"Lemme go, you foul breathed lump! Dammit, bitch, I said lemme up. I ain't old and I sure as hell ain't no virgin. Why the fuck do you think I'm here?" The nun crossed her arms, glaring up at the dragon.

"I dunno, nun," Miranda said, sitting back on her haunches but refusing to let the lemur out of the mud. "Why are you here? I have all afternoon."

The nun was about to respond when a stir in the bushes made both women freeze in place. If it were a doctor, nurse, or orderly, the afternoon was shot for both of them, and they probably wouldn't be allowed out of the sparsely appointed cells that the administration had the nerve to call bedroom suites for the next month. Thankfully, what stepped out of the bushes was far from an orderly.

Both women paused, struck by the blue eyed feline who stood before them. She was exotic, and not someone either of them had much experience with. She obviously was part of another group there, perhaps staying in another wing. The Siamese looked about, ears swiveling to take in ever minute sound. "Oh, pardon me!" she said, trying to make her way around the stunned pair. She was nude, Miranda noticed, and took pains to try and hide as much of herself as possible from the two as she backed around them. As Miranda and the nun watched, a drop of water fell from a leaf, landing directly on the cat's nose. She screamed, panicked, her tail doubling in thickness and her pupils widening until all that could be seen of the blue was a thin halo.

"For the king's sake!" snapped Miranda, reaching out her other hand and catching the cat as well. The feline woman screamed again, but it was to no avail as one of Miranda's fingers was covering the lower part of her face. "Would you two be quiet? I was just trying to nap." She glared at the two of them. The two glared back. Miranda tried to shift her place so that she was less overbalanced. It wasn't working. "Look, I'm going to let you two up. Now if I do, no more screaming and no more falling on me." She stared at both of them, receiving nods before slowly letting first one then the other up.

"That's better, you funk ridden slime scaled five ton daughter of a harem whore's leprous brother," pronounced the lemur, standing and trying to get the worst of the mud out of her fur. She shot a glare at the Siamese, who was once again covering herself and trying to move away.

The Siamese started, looking directly at the nun. "My, you do have a foul mouth. Whyever do you speak that way?"

"Because she's not yet realized that it's a vow of silence that she took, not a vow of insolence." Miranda yawned, showing off every one of her gleaming teeth. She came to a sudden conclusion. If the three of them kept arguing and screaming, someone was going to realize they were there, and that would not be a good thing.

"Listen," she said, sitting back on her haunches so she had both of them in her sight, "if we all keep making so much noise, the orderlies and the shock sticks are going to come out and we won't be seeing the light of day for a long time. So can we all dial it back a notch? Eh, kitty? Nun?"

"My name is not 'kitty'," said the indignant Siamese.

"And mine is not 'nun'. It's Carlotta."

"And I am Narcissa."

"Alright, fine Carlotta, Narcissa. Why don't you two head off on your merry ways?"

"Why should we leave?" snapped Carlotta. "Your fat ass is the one that should leave. If anyone is going to be noticed, it's you, scales."

Miranda controlled her anger. Perhaps the nun just had some huge emotional disturbance that made her so foul mouthed and foolhardy. After all, what sane person would choose to insult a dragon repeatedly? "Listen, I know those orderlies like to keep us hating one another. But we don't have to buy into it. If you guys just keep it down, we won't get caught. And as to why I shouldn't be the one to leave, well, I was here first." She settled down, tucking her talons beneath her and resting her chin on her wrists, a "that's that" gesture.

The other two were far from mollified. Again they started to argue with one another, the sound rising in volume.

"Enough!" hissed Miranda. "You can both stay! But I am not leaving. And if the two of you desire to stay here, you are going to have to stay quiet." She glared from one to the other and snorted once, a sound that did more to quiet both of them than any words would.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Finally, the Siamese spoke up. "Um, dragon... I know that Carlotta and I are pretty much trapped here, but why haven't you just flown away?" Miranda was surprised. It was the first truly civil thing either of the other women had said. Her surprise doubled as the nun chipped in.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that, too."

"You mean aside from the fact that there is nowhere to fly to on this island in the middle of nowhere? This place is the only thing on this world. I know, I've tried to escape. Imports are brought in through the portals, but I have no idea what schedule they are on and the things are shut with magic when not in use. So there, that's why. I've just sort of learned how to deal with this place in my own way. You should learn, too, or get over whatever hang-ups have you here." She yawned then, waiting for a response. None came. "Besides, this place isn't too bad, if you know how to work the system. Though I wish I were back where I came from."

"And where's that?" asked the nun, sitting down and brushing at her habit furiously.

"What's your name?" asked the Siamese, practically at the same time. She had managed to find a rock to sit behind; all that could be seen from Miranda's vantage point was the top half of her head. The two seemed to have decided that spending time with Miranda was preferable to spending time in therapy.

"My name is Miranda. And if it will keep the two of you quiet, I'll tell you where I came from. But you have to promise to let me go to sleep after I tell you."

"Tell us that and why you are here and you have a deal, scales."

Resigned, Miranda nodded and began to tell her story.