FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Living the Dream

By Zatarra L. Vulpe

It looked like the ceiling, but it wasn't. It was moving too much, twisting and warping, too high and growing higher. He could hear her laughing.

This dream again.

A moment and she was there, twisting out of the swirls. Electric purple minced with white, clashing with the primary yellow eyes. She's flat, but she moves. Her outline stretches out beyond mere screen and strokes him under the chin. Her eyes narrowed and muzzle closed slightly. The little triangles of her ears folded back as she leaned closer to him. Her tongue and teeth made small movements. He didn't know how, but warm breath made his eyes close.

Oh please, please, this time, c'mon.

_ _ A hairline upturn of lips grew into quite the snarl. He felt his eyes open.

"Malcolm!"

The world tipped, patting him on the back with a thick thud. His arms shot up and a croak belted out of him.

"How many times have I had to do this? Today?"

When he stood his legs settled like he was a kid in the woods, behind a tree. The guy's face was behind Malcolm's thick rims. The guy's name taunted him from his occipital lobe. One of those student-council, going-somewhere doing-something types. Buzzing in his ears when he wasn't shouting, bellowing when he wasn't nitpicking.

"You're_done_."

"I've just got a few more-"

"That wasn't a question, you are done. Not next semester, this one, I'm going to personally bring it up to Dr. Petulan and the Dean and try to undo some of the damage you've been doing to our grant money. Do you know how much funding you've wasted just sitting there, much less all your little projects that are going nowhere? If you don't want to be successful then you have no right being in this program and you clearly don't."

Malcolm stared. He was out of post-nap fog and into freezing reality. "You can't."

"I can and will, right now."

"I'm doing important work."

The guy stared at him. He could see those piggish little eyes now. He called him Bacon, had something to do with his last name starting with a B. He simply wheeled around and walked out of the room. Malcolm's breath caught. He'd have enough. He'd probably complained a few times before this. It wouldn't be enough to throw Malcolm out now, but it would be enough for an investigation, which would have him gone like he'd never been there.

That is, unless he got results.

Malcolm stared at his desk. A computer. Soldered together machine parts. Some slots full of very delicate circuit boards. He couldn't hold off the field test. It needed to work right now.

He slapped the chair up and fingers danced over the keyboard. He had no idea how much code he'd need to finish it up. He wasn't sure if he'd have time. Green numbers and symbols translated on his glasses into .exes. He had no idea. He couldn't run through the whole thing. They needed to be active right now. He stared at the little plastic hub cap that held his work for the past three semesters. He didn't know if they had safeties in place, or if they'd do anything at all.

His fingers drifted along the smooth, worn rectangle. In other circumstances, the word play of the single enter key unlocking his project's potential might have made him laugh. His cheeks were hot, breath tight and fast. His mind flickered back to the one time he'd ever stolen something. He'd nearly passed out on his run home, the giant A in "Amazing" smudged against his chest. He didn't know if it was slippery from the paper or his own fingers. He didn't even know why he wanted it. He supposed that really this was just the same principle on a much larger scale.

His finger came down.

He backed away when smoke started billowing out of the hubcap. He thought he'd failed until it stopped in a steadily growing ball six inches over the hive. Malcolm's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, 'hive' had been appropriate: it looked like a ball of buzzing, angry gnats. It swarmed and bulged, amorphous and directionless, it seemed to rear back after a moment, almost in mimic of his own actions.

"Holy shit they're on!"

The ball rocketed towards him and hit his shirt. It dissipated, but he started hyperventilating as he noticed portions of his clothes being shredded in long cuts he'd seemingly not noticed before. He felt stings growing into little rashes on his skin.

"Oh fuck, they're gonna grey goo me."

He felt a strange tingle all over his body. They'd be microscopic, almost unimpeded by his flesh. Worse, he felt horrible tingles in his head. Who knows what they'd do when they hit the blood brain barrier, much less his frontal lobe. 'Grey goo' is to say 'disassemble.' These nanites weren't supposed to be disassemblers, but they could be.

"No no no no no stop stop stop!"

_ _ He started clawing at his face and head and felt hairs falling out, cut off at the root. There was nothing he could do. They'd burrow into his brain and act like an artificial brain-rot. Chunks of his flesh would start sloughing off and that would be the end.

STOP

His eyes were shut. The tingling stopped. His eyebrows furrowed a little. Why had they stopped? They weren't listening to his verbal commands. Nothing. He looked at his left forearm. There were a few splotchy, rubbed-looking rashes near the wrist and elbow, but nothing serious or lasting, he hoped.

"Huh... Well..."

He clenched his hand and put it under his chin. The screen on his laptop flickered. Oh right, it would be set into log mode for the experiment. The code work wasn't too fancy but it assured his first activation would be recorded in each executable and action from the perspective of the machine. Nanotech aside, all of the little machines present ran on some kind of programming. It'd been easy to slave them all to his comp, then to the hive, drudgery brought back to mind from months past. Writing it line by line had been tedious, but he thought it was fairly brilliant considering the whole thing was a solo operation.

His eyes caught on the most recent part of the log. It was an all stop order. He glazed over the code. He recognized it: his own all stop order. He didn't remember writing one in for situations like this. In fact, the code line looked short, inelegant, chopped to a very exact switch from operational to standby for the whole system. He checked the source file.

It was called STOP.exe. File folder was simply listed as c_malcolm. His profile name.

"Holy shit."

He stared at the monitor for a moment. He furrowed his brow again, pointing at the chair in front of him. Instead of thinking in words, this time he strung together code lines in his head. They weren't fancy, but they would roughly describe data 'chair' should be 'deleted' from folder 'room 203.' He imagined the sound of the enter key clicking as he finished the line in his head.

There was a terrible screeching noise as the metal legs of the chair seemed to twist one their own. The wooden back splintered down the middle and the seemingly rapidly decaying parts fell to the ground. The wood wobbled a little as it became a wedge, then a small layer, then what looked like a scrap of bark before his eyes. The metal just evaporated, what looked like a smooth edge that burned along the length of the legs until there was nothing left.

Malcolm glanced up to the log. There was a little quantity marker next to the completed command. The nanites were still on standby. Before he could finish reading the line of code the answer popped into his head like it'd always been there. 'Chair' was broken down into a bunch of files with element labels. After a few seconds this became even clearer: molecules from the chair were just drifting around, a few pounds of wood and metal simply dust smaller than the Nano machines themselves. He could use them for nearly anything: restoring them to 'chair,' converting them into a statue of himself, added to his own mass or that of other parts of the room if he'd felt like it.

What was happening became clear: the nanites weren't using the computer anymore, they were communicating directly to him.

He stared at the computer and thought for a few seconds. In a moment he blinked as he felt the log program spring to life somewhere in his brain. He didn't need to see the lines of code running through the nanites at any particular time, he could _feel_them. The machines were directly slaved to his brain rather than the hive in just a few seconds. The more he thought about how they worked, the more it felt like flexing a muscle.

He stared at the door. Without any visible change or any other signs the nanites had closed the distance between them, the door frame buckled and pierced the door itself. Long jagged edges of metal that weren't there before sealed the wood directly to the frame. The metal warped around the door and the wood cracked, the brick walls shifted and congealed over them. Even with such a rough task, their speed and efficiency was terrifying.

Or, well, would have been, if they weren't at his command. As it was he felt a smile creeping across his lips. This was the universe's multipass, all-expense-paid-trip. If he could imagine it, he could have it, it might take little more than a snap of his fingers and probably not even that. At the speed of thought he could change everything about the world around him.

Anything.

The dream.

Malcolm's smile broadened. Malcolm had spent a lot of time alone in his life. Not always by choice. It felt like it was the card he was dealt. He didn't mind, how could he after so many years? But, of course, his... Tastes had grown rather peculiar. Why not? His imagination could take off when he spent so much time in his head. He could see the appeal of a fur coat and cute features. A little time on the internet and he'd found people like him, some who liked Disney, some who liked... what others did to Disney characters when no one else was looking. Where did he lie? He always supposed somewhere toward the former.

Except with her. He'd never gotten a drawing, never breathed a word of her, but he knew she was what he needed. He'd had too many dreams. She never did anything dirty, she transcended it. There was no clean, no foul. She just was, she was everything, she made the scenes in his head. He wasn't in his dreams as much as her and he never even knew her name. As far as he knew, she was entirely in his head. He thought she would always be.

He thought of her, harder than he ever had. Not just her image, everything about her: her fur in his fingers, her breath on his lips, the way her ears would move, the way her eyes caught light. He had to make her real.

Then the door banged.

"Malcolm? What the hell is happening in there?"

It wouldn't budge. He heard loud banging, but didn't focus on that, just on the perfect form. The hourglass figure, the inner glow to the fur, her luxurious tail, claw, just her, only her. He needed to will her into the right shape and send that to his nanites. He could see the shape forming in his mind and long lines of code locking into place. He could almost feel her, hear her.

"Malcolm! I'm calling security!"

Now now now now NOW NOW!

_ _ The nanites were confused for a moment. There hadn't been any set target for their programs perfect_purple_vixen.exe. But, as machines, they were learning. Logic dictated that if they didn't have a target they would go for the most readily available resources. Seeing as how the only biological entity in file room 203 was Malcolm...

Malcolm felt heavy tingling again. He concentrated hard on his end result, he didn't feel the hairs on his body multiplying, skin growing smoother under a wave of prickling stubble that expanded into a neon purple fuzz. White graced his fingers and palm, his fingers twitching as the nails hardened, blunted points extending straight out of his digits. His fingertips and palms swelled, deliciously soft and squishing when his fingers touched the heel of his hands.

"Ohhhnn"

He could feel a strange levity in his toes, growing lighter and the nails aching, shredding through what was left of bunched socks and shoe leather. His toes were shorter, heel cracking inward toward his ankle. The pads under his toes and the ball of his foot bounced and sank slightly under his lighter weight. Thick white fur puffed between each of them, the arch twitching and cracking.

His breaths felt like they'd burst his lungs, but each made him dizzy, unfocused like he'd been hyperventilating. His shoulders drew in and stayed there, blades lowering. His hands brushed a pair of mounds on his chest, pulsing behind each nipple. His gut shrank in a small, painless cramp and something between his legs pulled, pulling into a hollowed out space and only leaving a moistening slit and mound behind. His spine twitched and ears flicked, mouth pulling forward around sharper teeth. He felt like putty, like he'd just had a good massage. His brain felt relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. Yellow eyes opened and along tongue lolled out of a small, white muzzle.

"Ooohhhh god, ohhh, what... uh... I'm..."

He glanced down. His shirt was hanging off of him, to say nothing of his lab coat, jets of purple and white lining his form. Clawed hands grabbed the shirt as it deteriorated.

"I'm... I'm female. I'm her!"

He... Well... She stared for a moment, clawed fingers touching her hip, left hand on her breast and a claw against her nipple. It felt like her too, like she'd always imagined before she... well.. Before Malcolm had imagined her. She supposed she is Malcolm, but... She isn't. With command of her nanomachines, she had a head rush that wasn't just the extra supply of blood for her admittedly smaller system.

Why was she taking this so well? This body was so unusual, but... Then... Not. She'd always felt it, sort of, just on the 'other side' as it were. She never really hated her own body, but there wasn't a lot imperative for exercise and hygiene with so much time to herself. She wasn't attractive before, now she was literally what she used to idolize as perfection. She even felt the little hairline smile on her muzzle as she thought of who else might like to see it. What was this, literal narcissism?

She decided not to dwell on it. With so much power at her fingertips why not enjoy it?

"Malcolm! Security will be here soon! After that you'll be expelled for sure."

And besides, it presented some interesting opportunities.

The door fractured at its prime meridian. The wood split into a terrible maw that bent around Bacon and dragged him arms first through the warped doorway. He didn't have time to scream as he was projected into the room, landing hard on his rear, about crotch height with its other occupant.

"Hello there Bacon."

"What tha fuckr you?!!!"

"You know, I'd always kind of hoped I'd get to see you like this, on your knees scared and confused."

Bacon's mouth flapped open and shut. He sounded like an infant babbling.

"And I think I'm already tired of listening to you."

She snapped her fingers, then leaned in and ran her hand from his left cheek to his right. He stared at her and then tried to open his mouth. His skin stuck together in spots, thickening spots, long strands of skin. His hand went to his mouth as incoherent sounds made it past the seal. He realized what was happening just as soon as his lips ceased to exist.

"Mmmmm!"

"Much better, I think this really suits you, you should learn to listen to others anyway."

The seal was seamless, it was as though he'd never had an orifice there in the first place. His skin strained as his jaw fought against it. Her hairline smile fractured into a smirk.

"Now now, none of that."

In a moment his jaw weakened. His skin would stretch taut but not much more than that. The furred creature above him grinned. He felt a scratchy sensation for a moment and his hairs were dropping out of his jawline.

"Mmmhmm, not perfect but it's a good start. You see I actually find this little addition, or subtraction I suppose, very... stimulating."

His fists clenched and he stood, angry, muffled sounds inside of the sealed orifice. He was a little overweight, but his chest and arms made up a decent part of his weight. Arms.

"You know, I think you have a few more lessons to learn, maybe about what I giveth and, well..."

She grins as a shock ran through her new plaything. His eyes rolled for a moment and he bucked forward. That got his attention. He shivers a little as his clothes frayed and shredded off of his form due to seemingly thin air. It was a bit violent, but that the nanites were starting to pick up on her thoughts, on her vision. She couldn't suppress her grin as his upper arms tugged at the flesh on his chest. He stared down as flesh pulled like a webbing.

"Mmmmmmh!"

After a few seconds it was clear they were melting into his torso. The flesh was dry, but it flowed like a liquid. His elbows lost their angular shapes and the shoulders curved further. His arms felt tingly, like they'd gone to sleep. He watched his fingers flow into his hips, seeming to branch and flow. When he tried to pull them away, his palms looked smaller and his fingers pulled in long, boneless tubes. His arms couldn't even twitch independently after a few seconds. He bent double, trying to pull them free somehow. All that served to do was illustrate how their shapes were disintegrating, the bulges on either side of his torso shrinking with each tug. Soon it was just his chest and hips, the little smooth area where his sockets should connect.

Her fingers brushed the empty sockets, fingers seeking them out and rubbing them. The 'disarmed' Bacon shivered as her lips moved: "... and taketh away."

Bacon tried to kick at her, but he felt another seized twitch that sent his head rocketing back and his eyes rolling up in his skull. She grins as his thighs draw together involuntarily, the seam from groin to knee filling slowly, flesh snapping out in long tendrils and then filling with thick, binding muscles that twitched and pulled the bones underneath tighter with each shuffling step.

"Muuuch better, I think this will do for now, don't you?"

"Mmmh, mmmhmmhhh."

She wrapped her arms around the wriggling torso, her muzzle against his chin. She started making long laps at the flat space where his mouth should be. She could feel it, the sensations transmitted to her directly from his brain. It felt strange, the absence where a mouth should be, but the skin twitched and tugged. It felt good, the formless skin tingling under the soft tongue. She could feel his heart pounding. His skin had a slightly nickel taste, warm and a little slick.

"No? Want more? I think I know what you mean, you have so much mass in the wrong places, but I can help you there."

Bacon shook his head. She grabbed his pecs in thick hunks until she felt them bubbling out of his flesh. His nipples swelled and grew darker, bright red with smooth areolar tissues expanding out in long ovals. Inches pushed out of his new bust as they sank from his waistline. His hip and unified thigh thickened and smoothed further, plumped into a very stereotypically feminine shape. At the same time, the rest of his hair fell out, his toes to his apple shaped ass to his breasts to his scalp completely smooth. Unnaturally smooth. He almost lost his footing as his feet lost traction on the tile floor. His skin was shiny, a little slippery, like oiled latex.

The worst part for Bacon was the way his cock was loving this. The glans was bobbing out of his sealed thighs like a metronome on high tempo. It was up against her thigh and prodding her mound. She felt it bounce against her clit.

"Oooohhhh, you like this a lo-ot don't you? The best part is that's all you, I'm not influencing you in the slightest in this regard. I think if I kept up changes like this you'd never go soft."

Her left hand drifted down to his dick and gripped it.

"Hmm, too short, and you can't exactly move too well huh? That's alright though, I think I've got a solution."

She stroked along his cock, her fingers pinching around his base and his cock heating up further, like a painless firebrand. He bent slightly as his insides felt strange, his stomach shifting around and cock twitching and pulsing oddly. He stares up at her, trying to remain upright but the sensation making him bend further at each attempt.

"Mmmhmm, coming along quite nicely."

He twitched and his eyes squinted for a moment as he felt a sharp tug in his shaft. The glans narrowed to a point near it's opening, lengthening as it twitched to the left, then right, the glans bending up slightly.

"Mmmmh!Mmmmmh!Mmmmhh.."

His cock stretched and she grasped it again. It curled around her fingers. His stomach tenses with each 'push' of shiny, wet cock flesh. The rod grew smoother and slightly thicker as it pulsed out inch by inch. His body grows smaller, waist thin as internal organs congealed into something very external. His skin lightened in tone, from peachy to nearly paper white, slick as a fresh egg with a writhing, two foot long prehensile penis.

She smiled and grasped the head, gently tugging the elongated wang. She guided the head to her slit and grinned at him.

"Mmmhhhnnn..."

"That's right, I know you want it too."

She brushed her fingers along the undulating organ as though handling a pet snake. The head pressed up and rubbed in a few attempts, making the vixen rise slightly as her new sex lit up. The arrowhead glans finally parted her lips and pushed in, inch by inch, pulsing and stretching, undulating softly inside.

"O-oh_god,_ much better, mmmnn more."

The creature that was Bacon hobbled a little closer, his feet slipping slightly before he felt toes congealing together, a little extension twitching out of his heel. His steps left a filmy trail, from five toes, to three, to two and an opposable 'heel.' She wrapped her arms around his hips and felt him sink deeper. Her pads slipped on slick flesh as she leaned in and nibbled his left ear. She tugged it out and back by the tip, stretching it longer until it pointed, long and thin and twitching as she licked it. He groaned and his muffled voice rose an octave, right ear tingling and twitching as it grew to match the left. She licked at his flattened space until his nose sank back, nostrils a pair of small slits, nearly invisible. She groped and squeezed and lapped and nibbled and moaned and they kept pumping and rubbing and more and more went inside and she blasted through a few powerful orgasms before Bacon finally tensed inside her and-

"AAAAAHHHHNNN!"

The mouthless thing nearly slipped in a pool of its own strange perspiration. She did her best not to collapse. She'd probably come five times. Her legs felt like putty.

"O-out, p-pull o-u-ut!"

_ _ He slipped out of her with a slick, popping sound. The sudden void left a little gushing trail of warm cum and his cock lying limply until he bent slightly. It drew back between his legs until the entire thing drew inside of a small slit. When it closed, even she couldn't detect it on his joined thighs.

"Ho-o, I can make 'em I guess, mmm... delicious, give me a moment here, hmm?"

She sits back on the floor, looking up at her creation. The long, swept back ears, pointed. Noseless, mouthless, totally bald, a set of large, hanging breasts, no arms, a thin waist, the thick, joined thighs and ass, feet stretched and slick with the strange slime on his skin, all paper white. The only thing left that was really recognizable as his was his eyes, still brown, blinking at her inquisitively. She felt something unusual. He'd liked everything she'd done, but he was hesitant. After all, she'd done what she'd done out of hatred for him, or so he'd supposed at the time. Now it was... strange. The odd thing was she was just as uncertain.

"Hmmm... You think Phyllis? I think that would be a good name for you."

The creature tilted it's head. He was still Bacon, somewhere, but this felt... different, exhilarating in ways his mind had never expected.

"Well, Phyllis it is. I however am going to be Cleo, because I think Cleopatra would be a fa-ar more appropriate name by now. Seems important for someone important, no?"

Phyllis blinked. Assuming he, if the pronoun even applied, could answer anymore, he... well... She was pretty sure Cleo would simply ignore her anyway.

"There we go, you catch on quick."

Phyllis tried to smile a little, but then remembered the situation with her face.

"Now come, let's find that mean old Dr. Petulan and see if we can make something a little more friendly out of him, hmm?"

Phyllis nodded. What position was she in to argue. Besides, it meant more use of her prehensile 'pride.'

"O-oh, my pet has good ideas."

The door flowered open in peeled wood, exposing a security guard on the other side, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Well, after a little more testing of course."

Cleo took a moment, blinked. She could feel herself 'saving' Phyllis' current configuration as flesh_slave_one and then smirked at the guard. He staggered back, eyes darting between Her and Phyllis. She leaned in as he fell back, smirking down on him.

"A volunteer?"

His screams were shortly silenced into a muffled moan and slick, pumping sounds.