FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The bustling Saturday afternoon always brought about the largest of crowds to the shopping mall. The diverse scene was met with the common interest of spending cash, no matter its origin, and finding the deals worth having. Clamoured stores had an assorted display in their front windows, varying from large posters that spanned an arm's length to mannequins parading the latest line of the latest designer.

A young wolf, normal in his appearance and demeanour, wandered alone as he selected the next shop to scour for something to take his eye. His stature was lithe, whilst pleasing to the eye, and of the similar medium height to his looks. With fur as charcoal grey, he had a blend of smoky fur that appear fluffed to the touch, though was styled atop his head. His clothes contrasted against this, being of a stark white and vibrant red, splashed against an otherwise indeterminate black. Wearing a jacket and matching shorts and sneakers, he strode like many other customers through the expansive halls of the mall, scratching the side of his face in mild contemplation. There was so much choice, bearing between model shops to big name outlets, from the typical clothes store to the mundane games department. This wolf, whilst having a name of his own, preferred his given nickname of 'Crisp' - his friends had gifted him it through some means or another at school, and with the majority came the eventual acceptance that was what he was to be known as. He liked it, anyhow. It was neat enough and didn't boast anything.

A certain store caught the wolf's beady green eye; set towards the further most end of the mall, it was hemmed in on both sides by blaringly loud signs and cafes. It took no attempt to make itself known, satisfied that all it had to show was the minimalist designed front with a display of all but a few scantily clad mannequins, their heads blank and faceless, and monotone grey in colour but adorning the latest trends. Across the top the word 'Cupido' was painted out in a silky calligraphy, as though the words had been written by a poet himself with the finest quilled pen and dainty ink. Curiosity beguiled Crisp, and he found himself hightailing towards the entrance, weaving through the mulling crowd. He neared its front, and peered inside to look beyond what the expressionless statues guarded away.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear to Crisp that this store only stocked the feminine form of clothing. Dresses and skirts and skinny jeans were stacked upon each rail, and the interior, whilst pallid and neutral in appearance, did not fail to denote that it was a shop specified for those of a lady-like nature. The walls were a soft lilac, with only but a few signs and blown up photographs of furs sporting the store's merchandise strewn throughout. Crisp was perplexed though; he could not deny that the store had the image that it was for women, and not men, yet he noticed one or two guys inside glancing through what was on offer. One fur on his own in particular, a sleek and soft looking bear, was picking out panties and bras, then holding them up to his own body to check the size. It was a startling sight, to see males being so casual about such a kink, but there they were, and it was enticing to Crisp to see. He could only imagine how liberated those men must feel, able to indulge in what might have been an otherwise frowned upon taste for clothing and lifestyle.

It was then that Crisp wondered to himself; did it truly need to be a lifestyle? He had never considered the outcome of which he'd prefer the company of more, girls or boys, and so his orientation had remained fluid. But what intrigued him now was the thought of he himself dressing up in such clothes. He thought about how they might feel against his fur, hugging his form as closely as he had seen them on girls. There were others doing it already, those who had taken the leap before him; could he really do the same? It seemed possible, and well within his grasp. All it would take would be the act of courage to stroll in and actually buy something with the intention to wear it and not hide it away in some musty corner of his closet. Crisp balled up his paws, wringing his fingers against his pads and bit his bottom lip. He could do this. He will do this.

Resolute, he stepped away from the window and meandered inside as casually as he could. Leaving behind perhaps the odd stare or whispered hiss behind him from a mass of otherwise neutral furs, he gazed about this strange world he'd entered. He was not accustomed to women's clothes stores. Naturally he'd never found the need to ever be in one, even as a child he'd hovered about outside waiting for his mother to return. But now, alone, he wandered through clothes as though lost at sea and oblivious to his surroundings. A friendly fox shop assistant squeezed her way past him, offering a sympathetic smile as though knowing a secret he was unaware of. Perhaps she knew more than him, Crisp mused, that she knew what even he didn't, that deep down she was conscious of some well hidden truth inside of the wolf that he was ignorant of. He was drawn deeper still into the store by this hidden urge, and the wolf reached out with open paws to brush along the fabric of the clothes, to test their differences to what he knew of men's clothing. They felt smoother and softer to the touch, though strangely electrifying. His digits toyed with the lacy edges of underwear and stroked across the silky front of a tube-top dress.

"Can I help you there, mate?"

The voice was so unexpected that Crisp, in his moment of sheer vulnerability of being overwhelmed in such an alien environment, very nearly leapt up into the air which would have been promptly followed by cowering and hiding away. But, keeping his ground and determined not to freak out in public, he turned in the direction of where the voice had originated.

A lean looking timber wolf stood, leant against a column that stood between two rails, his arms folded and looking down at the smaller male. Crisp was only just an inch shorter perhaps, but was shocked to see someone of the similar strain of species in the same store. They had a white face with patterned patches of rusty brown and milky grey tinged with blue. They were perhaps of the same build to, compared to Crisp, but sported what appeared to be denim jeans and a thick looking jumper with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. An indiscriminate image, but in such a store as this he stood out a mile, much like Crisp did.

"I'm... I got lost. I think one of my friends came in here," Crisp lied, not wanting to admit to this stranger of his real reason for being there at that moment. The timber wolf chuckled, shaking his head,

"You're a bad liar," A moment of silence passed between them as Crisp refused to accept that he was right. The timber wolf ignored it, of course, and looked across the clothes on offer, "My friends call me Reggie, and you are...?" He trailed off, allowing for Crisp the opportunity to introduce himself.

"My friends call me Crisp," He practically parroted, and he saw the odd look from the wolf known as Reggie, but it was never built upon.

"Well Crisp, I don't think your friend is in here, so since you're clearly wrapped up in ladies' clothing, I think we both know why you're really here." Reggie looked back to Crisp, his words confident and assertive. It was as though he was speaking for Crisp, rather than just assuming what he was suggesting. It was as though he knew exactly what to say.

"I don't know what you mean..." Crisp was fighting a losing battle, but he just couldn't simply give in. What would that make him, if he just gave in to the temptation and allure of women's clothing, being a man no less?

"Bullshit," Reggie said, his tone firm and with just a hint of a growl. The wolf plucked several garments of the racks, taking each with careful precision, "Don't you think that..." He held the articles of clothing to Crisp's body, whirling him in front of a mirror just across the way, making the wolf, for the first time, actually look at himself and imagine with clear vision what he might look like with the clothes presented to him, "...all this would look good on you?"

"I..." Crisp stammered, at a loss for words as his throat ran dry. A high-cut top was held to his chest, and already he could feel the tickle of air running along his stomach as though he were wearing it now. The skimpiest ever shorts were held to his hips, and he almost giggled in delight at how much leg they might show, at how they might feel enveloping his waist in their grip. It was a mesmerising thought, "I'm not..."

"You don't need to be," Reggie answered, filling in for the wolf's conscience, "Wearing this stuff doesn't mean anything except an expression of who you are... Just think, you could walk out of those doors a new fur; people will be jealous of how good you look, of how cute and hot that guy is. All you have to do is put the clothes on..."

He made a good argument, and Crisp found his resolve to be failing. It stuttered and spluttered to remain intact, but it was shattered within the instant that Reggie began gloating about how he might be lusted over by others. Could clothes really have that much impact on another? Could he really make them swoon and sway just because he was dressed to impress?

With a slight nod, he managed to mumble out that he wanted to wear them, and it elicited a broad grin from the timber wolf behind him. In the mirror, the smile stretched from ear to ear, and seemed to hide a great mischief behind the wolf. He was then paraded around the store, led astray by this stranger who had gallivanted their way into picking out clothes for him. Crisp could only follow bewildered, tugged along by his wrist and taken through into the darker, more sordid depths of the shop. Tops and jeans were soon replaced by lacy underwear and skimpy nightwear. The wolf gulped back a ball of anxiety, trying to ignore the insurmountable feeling of something new traipsing along his horizon.

They came to a smaller backroom, put aside as a changing room for the selection and testing of clothes. Crisp looked nervous, borderline terrified if he was truly honest with himself, but he didn't let himself show it. A Galiceno horse, bay in colour, with a bleached blonde tint to his mane, held jurisdiction over the changing rooms, and he cast a knowing eye over the pair of them - most likely summing them up to be a couple. He let them by, nodding to Reggie as they moved their way into the cubicle designated for them.

It was cramped inside, especially with two furs, but Reggie seemed like he wanted to make do. A mirror was fixed to the furthest wall, away from the door opposite it. A small bench sat beneath it, somewhere for the occupant to sit, and on one side was attached several hooks so that clothes brought in maybe hung up instead of strewn across the cubicle as carelessly as a child might. Reggie pulled the latch to, locking them inside. Within the confined space, he turned to Crisp who had taken the initiative of sitting down, looking up as the confident timber wolf hung the clothes up.

"Come on," Reggie coaxed, gesturing towards Crisp, "Let's get you out of those."

The wolf couldn't believe what was happening. It was a surreal moment, to be taking orders from a random stranger who had taken it upon himself to drag Crisp into a feminine world, but dutifully he rose and shrugged off his jacket. Reggie, without a word, took it into his paws before it had a chance to hit the ground. Next came the grey top; Crisp slipped it off his torso and into the waiting paws of the timber wolf, who, like the jacket, folded it up neatly and placed it into a pile. The next part was trickier for the smaller male, as with a great blush spread across his muzzle he hooked his thumbs over the edges of his shorts and pulled down. He kicked off his sneakers too, discarding them and watched patiently though warily as Reggie took these as well and placed them quite nicely into his makeshift pile. Now the wolf store, naked all except for his boxers, in front of a guy he'd met all of a few minutes ago. He bit his lip, knowing what was next, as Reggie handed him his new clothes. His new clothes...

"I'll leave you to get dressed..."

With that, Reggie left, and Crisp looked at himself in the mirror clutching the women's clothes, holding it against himself - part of him wondered why the timber wolf had helped him, though he didn't realise then why. Instead he was more focused with the task of putting on what had been given to him. First, he decided to start with the shorts. The fabric was of a dark tan colour, and matched smartly with the pink high-cut top. Crisp stepped into the respective legs, pulling up the skimpy shorts until they hugged his hips. A shudder of electricity ran through his body when the fly zipped shut and that last button was done. It coursed through the tips of his fingers and upwards, along his arms until it settled in the pit of his stomach where it churned happily. It was such a snug feeling, so close and enthralling, yet it bared so much of his body. Chilled air curled around fur that would have normally been covered, his thighs exposed more than they might have been. Crisp let loose a giggle, his paws groping along his groin as he could feel himself hardening. Why was it so much fun? Why did it make him feel alive?

Next was the top, which he lifted high above his head only to then let it drop gracefully along his arms, falling as though it were a fluttering feather trapped in the wind. It felt so smooth and silky to his body, falling short just of his navel and leaving that portion of him to answer to the breeze too. His paws, without thinking, went to stroke and rub along his chest, feeling the dainty clothes keep true to his form and cover only what was necessary. He moaned aloud and whimpered with eyes half-lidded and drowsy in desire. A small tent was forming with his hardening cock, and soon Crisp was certain that he'd be sporting a full on erection. He didn't care though, his mind preoccupied with the need to feel more, to wear more, to get this rush in a greater dose. He clawed out for the arm warmers, pushing his paws eagerly into the ends and threading them through. He made sure they fitted just right before admiring them, shivering as they encased his forearms within pink and black stripes of a thin cloth. More... He needed more... Panting heavily, his tongue rolled to one side and his mind hazed with lusty thoughts, he picked up the stockings, mesmerised and drunk on the power of the mere act of wearing girl's clothes. He sat back onto the bench, pressing himself against the mirror as he leant back to raise one elegant footpaw, wiggling his toes into the stocking's opening. He slid it on, slowly as though to savour the sensation of it travelling along his calf and up to his mid-thigh. It was overwhelming, and Crisp had to stop to catch his breath before attempting to second one. Writhing in his seat, he repeated the action, pulling up the second stocking and letting out loud cries and whines of need and orgasmic bliss as the stocking was brought level to its twin. Finally were the sneakers, and Crisp slipped his feet into them, now coloured pink instead of their usual red, and fastened the laces tight, his mind woozy and tipsy from the thrill of the clothes.

Crisp stood to admire himself in the mirror, groping along his body upon every inch he could, watching how cutely he moved now and how his every action resonated within him. It wasn't like looking at his reflection... No, it was more like looking at what he should have been, at what he should have been doing all this time. This was what he was supposed to look like, not a typical guy dressed in a jacket and matching shorts. He should look like this, where he was aroused by the simple sight of himself made up to be so beautiful and inebriating. Crisp's paws wandered over his crotch, giving his rock hard member a firm squeeze from beneath the shorts, whimpering as he felt the jolt of pleasure course through him. If only it could last, but Crisp knew he would have to undress soon enough and return to the real world where he was nothing more than a stranger himself amongst many. He turned to look for his other clothes, ready to get changed back, but something was wrong.

The clothes were missing.

Frantically he searched, riling himself up into a state of hysteria as he tried to find his original clothes, but to no avail. They were gone. That was when he realised; Reggie had had a reason for helping him, for taking his clothes off him. He wanted to put the wolf into a position where he was forced to leave the mall looking as he did, uncontrolled in his arousal and humiliated to look as a feminine girl. He blushed darkly, the thought chiming within his mind as though it were a godsend. It was an excuse by all measures, and he was going to take advantage of it.

Hesitantly and shyly, he unlocked the cubicle and stepped out, looking at the long line of customers waiting themselves to try clothes on. They all stared, some even gawping, as Crisp walked out into the shop, his ears laid flat as he saw more and more people looking. The horse from before looked behind him, clear to see what all the commotion was about, and saw the wolf dressed up. He approached Crisp, whispering down to him,

"That gentleman who was just with you has paid for everything, just so you know..." He gave Crisp a reassuring pat on the back as he made his way tottering for the exit, not quite believing this was all happening to him. He watched, nervous, as more and more stares from passers-by turned to look and talk excitedly between themselves. His erection was making a great strain at his crotch, but he daren't try to hide it in an acceptance of humiliation. No, Crisp was determined to keep his resolve, and adamantly he made he was from the store, exiting out into the hall of the shopping center. A crowd was slowly forming, dispersed of course, though without a doubt there to watch this brave wolf as he made his way to leave. Proudly walking, he strode with confidence as he felt liberated and sexy, smiling to himself as he heard the whispers and voices start up behind him in appreciation of his new look.

And boy did it feel good.