FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The day after watching the funeral live on television, Pricilla occupied the long hours binging. She knew it was a binge day when she finished breakfast and yet still had the strong urge to eat. Less than an hour after Denise had cleared her plates, Pricilla dictated to the weasel to tell Fredrick the cook to start preparing several batches of the butter scones she liked. Before the first of these came out of the oven, the half ton stoat sent for Lorenzo and had him go to Krispy Kremes for ten boxes of doughnuts; fifty glazed, 20 devil's food, 20 jelly filled, 10 custard filled, 10 chocolate glazed, 5 glazed crullers and 5 cinnamon twists. To break up all the pastries, Pricilla had Fredrick put on a couple pots of Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf brand gourmet coffee which she liked. The stoat drank it black, the better to spare her mouth over-sweetening.

The pastries were all knocked out faster than one would expect. Two hours after they were gone, Pricilla sent Lorenzo to bring her back a variety of fast food, while at the same time having Fredrick start on some roast chicken for dinner and some pies for dessert... Yeah, it was just one of those days.

***

After spending an ungodly amount of time on her japanese toilet the following morning, Pricilla found herself once again in her dent in the large sofa. She had the television off because she couldn't stand its noise any longer. Denise was useless for conversation because she still had her nose stuck in her book; Pricilla was at least grateful that her time in "college" had been mostly a money-fueled farce perpetrated by her father just to occupy her time. Her degree in business that her father had forced her to get was gathering dust in some drawer she couldn't get to anymore and likely would remain there until she died.

The molting ermine - there was still a littler brown left in a strip on her wide back - instead contented herself with her tablet computer; the most expensive model available publicly. It was almost as useful as her laptop and had the decisive advantage of being able to be used one handed. It was also less hot for when the fat-filled stoat left it flat on her breast. The only real reason she kept her laptop around was because her preferred drawing pad was not compatible with her tablet computer. She slid her finger across the smooth surface of the touch screen to unlock it...

...And allowed her mind to enter a new world. The miracle of the Internet allowed Pricilla to feel like she had a modicum of a normal life. Her browser screen was her window to the world. Chat sometimes came more easily than regular speech and people on the other side of the country or across the ocean knew her thoughts and feelings and even cared in a way about them. And the best part was that on the internet, Pricilla was free from any stigma or comments or assumptions about her weight. Anonymity was a mask which suited her perfectly and not a soul out there in the vast tangled Web knew that Prissy_Ermine666 was actually an heiress to a moderate fortune and also an 1100 pound woman who could barely walk.

Pricilla wrote comment on Stage-Katt's blog about a vacation he just took to Rio de Janeiro. Seeing as the stoat's life consisted mostly of the distance between her bed and her sofa, Pricilla actually didn't blog much herself. However she loved commenting on other people's blogs, live journals and profiles. Pricilla was snidely asking if he saw any animated blue macaws there when her chat ringer buzzed.

Fortunately, this tablet supported the running of multiple apps at once so all Pricilla had to do was swipe three fingers to the side to see her chat program. Her round ears perked slightly when she saw who it was online. "Hello Star_WolfX-69." she typed using the fingers of her right hand against the virtual keyboard. The tablet rested on the flat surface of her breast because the keyboard was too small for both of her hands to reach comfortably across the girth of her chest. Another disadvantage of the tablet that the designers didn't foresee.

She moved her hand and lifted it slightly so she could better see his response (assuming this was even a man she was chatting with). "How are things going, Prissy?"

Pricilla sniffed and then typed one-handed, "As well as ever, I guess."

His response came quickly as always. "Are you sure?"

Pricilla frowned. Star Wolf was unusually canny, though really what should she expect, she'd been talking with him since she was 18. She mulled over her options for nearly two minutes and finally, she wrote with a sigh. "My father died last week."

"That's terrible." wrote Star Wolf. "How are you holding up?"

"Pretty fine, I guess. We weren't exactly close... I don't feel sad that he's gone, but since he died I... I don't know how to describe it. It's like I'm floating in my own life, if that makes any sense." Pricilla sniffed again as she punched the letters out on the tablet, the flat unyielding surface less comfortable than a proper keyboard. Only because she'd known Star wolf for so many years did she relate this information. She thought that people might put things together if she gave the date of her father's death... she was a little paranoid about things like that.

"Trust me, it makes sense But you know it's OK to feel bad about your dad." read Star Wolf's chat balloon.

Frowning, Pricilla wrote, "I hated my father. He thought he could control my life ever since I was born."

"..." came the reply and then, "It doesn't sound like he succeeded."

Pricilla rubbed a thick roll at her side with her left hand and smirked. Star Wolf was right on the money as always. But this conversation was draining and Star Wolf could never understand the full extent of the influence her father had wielded in her life nor the lengths she gone to dodging his will. "I'd rather talk about something else now." she wrote.

"Yes, like getting a real profile picture . You've been a pumpkin now for what, three years now? It's not even Thanksgiving anymore! =P"

"Hey! My pumpkin suits me just fine. Don't knock it."

"You ought to use your face. I bet you have a pretty face..."

Pricilla snorted and wrote. "And I think you're just pretty horny!"

"..." typed Star Wolf. "Let's talk about something else. XD"

Pricilla smiled and typed on.

The stoat's biggest contribution to the world so far were her art profiles on websites such as DeviantArt and Zhibit, but also her own website which she'd lovingly crafted and maintained. She mostly drew and sometimes dabbled in poetry, less so in prose which she lacked the patience for. She preferred a darker style and like rich shades of black in many of her pieces. It was really almost the only way she had to express herself. Because she spent so much time online and so much time on her drawings, she had a decent following. Working with one hand on a drawing pad, she couldn't exactly turn out new drawings very often - and this one with the wild dog seemed to be dragging on forever - but what she had was good. She commented a lot on other people's works and that in turn drew attention back to herself. Pricialla used a couple of different e-mails, each box with a different purpose. It was so easy to get lost in the tangle of writing and responding to correspondence. And then there were the lucky few like Star Wolf whom she actually chatted with.

The white furred ermine had to stop in the middle of growing her Facebook village when he tablet's battery flashed red and she had to put it aside; meaning that she slid it into the belly roll right above her love handle where she could still reach it. Looking up for the first time in hours, Pricilla saw that Denise had gone. The stoat sat there, her body expanding huge and heavy across three cushions of the worn sofa. She let a hand drape down the front of her, the huge dome of her belly jutting forward ahead of her round breasts under her blouse and then dropping steeply ahead of her knees to where she could feel it dangling between her calves. The fact that she could feel the front of the sofa against the underside of her paunch reminded Pricilla of how extremely obese she was. She took a few slightly rasping breaths, aware also of the weight of her ponderous breasts on her chest and diaphram. Her stomach hit her with a strong hunger pang which ripped through her abdomen deep under the fatty layers. Her body seemed intent on reminding Pricilla of her personal reality.

She reached between her breasts for her cell phone to call someone to fetch her some food before she passed out. She didn't bother considering the tedious, arduous walk to the kitchen this time. She was just feeling too heavy and lethargic to budge her great bulk off the couch.