A Nude Awakening
#1 of Failing The Test
The human James Hansen wakes up alone in a room. His memory tells him he has failed the intelligence test each graduating student has to take. That means only one thing: he will lose his humanity.
The story will be several chapters long, each chapter being released every other Sunday. It will contain transformation, gay sex, frustration, teasing (both the reader and Mr. Hansen), and other - hopefully! - good bits.
Welp... Sorry dear watchers that I haven't posted much. Last time I posted, I mentioned I had two unedited chapter stories. Those two are still unedited, though I am excited to get started with them! This story is meant to be pure fun for me. It is smut, through and through. Some times things will go slow, at other times the pace will quicken. There is a story hidden underneath it all, though, if you can figure it out.
Hm. As always, any feedback is appreciated! It can be silent feedback or it can be LOUD feedback. A watch, a favorite, a comment, a vote. All of them are equally appreciated. Any form of criticism is welcome! Us furries, in general, seem to be afraid to speak our mind about things - don't be. Here I want you to speak your mind. I want to become better, I want to improve - and, most of all, I want to make sure I entertain you guys :3c
CHAPTER 1 - A Nude Awakening
James woke to, entrapped in a small square room. There was a door with bars, akin to that of a prison's, but the walls were white and the room was well lit, like in a hospital. He was laying on a small bed placed in one of the corners. His wrists were sore and he could see red marks encircling them. He had to blink several times in rapid succession before realizing that it was not a dream. That it hadn't been a dream, and that the entire thing had been a lie.
His parents had been worried the morning - James thought, because he had no sense of time, other than a growing hunger in his stomach - prior. Their hugs had been strong, their kisses and good lucks overwhelming. Assuring them several times over that their would be no way that he would fail the test, having aced all the prior tests, didn't help. If anything, it had worsened their anxiety. The latest memory he had of his mother was her turned around, hugging a father stoically looking out as their son walked away. It would likely be the last memory, too.
To think that he would be the only one of his class who had to be pulled away. He had been brought into a room to the side and he had been offered a coke to drink. After a few short gulps, his vision started to become blurry. He had seen a couple of furs walking in to the room before he had passed out. If his guess was right, by easily finishing the test, he had ultimately failed it.
In some ways, these memories did not feel right. They were there, in his mind, but they felt shallow and untrustworthy.
Everyone made fun of the conspiracy theories on the web. The ones from the nut jobs who had disfigured faces, prosthetics, looking as if they had stopped the process of transformation. Those claiming that the test was not to root out the unintelligent people from the human part of the society - the unintelligent were easy to control - but to remove those intelligent enough to cause a change. Of course, the nut jobs claimed, removing them by death was not an option. In order to remove the intelligent without questions from the general public, you had to make the general public believe that they were better than the intelligent. And that is how they came up with the test: making the dumb believe they were the smart ones, and removing the intelligent by forcing them to labor tasks. Melding the intelligent human minds and bodies with animal ones, creating an obedient sub-class of workers that would not have the will or support from others in fighting the authority.
James had made fun of them, too, laughed and joked with his friends. But there he was. Abducted by furs and authority figures. He could not believe that everything the nut jobs claimed was true, but it seemed too close, too uncomfortably close to the truth as he lay there in bed.
When he rose to sit down the blanket fell off, revealing a thin and relatively hairless chest, music suddenly turned on. Classical. James thought it might be Beethoven, but he had never actually heard a classical song. It had become rarer and rarer over the decades, since the sitting government came to power. Old, conservative culture was meant to be obliterated, the government had claimed when they first came to power. So James only knew their names, and Beethoven was the biggest one. The song had an annoying, cheery tone which spread over to himself. He couldn't help but smile at the music, with the goofy smile he had, the smile he had always hated.
In truth, he hated all the human smiles. Each and every one meant something different, and sometimes they didn't reflect what the person behind actually felt. If he could choose not to smile at the overly cheery music he would, because he was not feeling happy. He had been abducted, and what seemed to be the prospect for him was not something he would have ever wanted.
A fur. Be it an elk, a bear, a horse, a cat, a whatever - they were not something anyone would want to be. Mindless.
James looked around the room. A porcelain toilet, clean and tidy, and a sink was on the opposite side of the room from where he was. His eyes moved to the barred window. He closed the eyes and opened them again, each time rubbing them with his hands, as if he would then be able to peer out of the dark window. Dark, as if a black curtain had been drawn before it. James thought to himself, why have a window if you can not look through it? It made little sense. His focus diverted to an annoyance.
There was a tickle in his groin, his cock. Not of excitement, it was the tickle that came before you had to go. That annoying tickle that if you listened to, you knew you would desire to go again, and again right after. With the recognition of that, he became more aware of other things happening with him. Another tickle of a different sort crawled over his legs. James pulled the blankets off his legs in a frantic panic grabbing a hold of his right leg and pulling it up. He didn't care that he displayed his modest cock and balls for the world to see, he focused on little blond strands of hair popping up between the darker strands already there. His legs itched, but when he scratched the legs, it seemed as if it spread quicker and became thicker. Instead he watched it as if in a trance. Despite that it was happening to him, it was fascinating: Seeing individual hairs slowly take position; Seeing the black hair to the front of his legs slowly become lighter. Eventually the fascination subsided - the change was too slow to stare at for too long, but the itching continued.
If James was going to change, which it seemed, he wanted someone to speak to. Someone, there with him, who had some authority. Taking the chance that he was being monitored he said, "Hello?" He pulled the sheets back on, tightening them in places and making sure they were loose enough where he didn't want to reveal anything. With no response for a short while, he tried again, a little louder. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
The cell wasn't sound-proof. He could hear the ventilation running, and he could hear the pipes churning through the music. When he focused, the sound of running and shouting could be heard from outside. James tried a third time. The itching continued, he idly scratched his stomach.
"Hello! Is anyone there? I wonder what is happening!"
As no one answered, and time passed, the tickle in his groin grew more intense. Certain that no one would come, he let the blanket drop to the floor and walked to the toilet. He grabbed a hold of his cock, aimed it, and let go. When finished, the tickle remained. James felt more plump than he normally did, as if his cock was in a permanent, semi-erect state. He held it in the air, examining it. The skin did not reach all the way over the top, seeming instead to crawl back. Skin at the base had started to fold underneath his pubic hair.
A heavy thud came from the door, with the familiar sound of a key chain. With quick reflexes he let go off himself, hurrying to the bed and pulling the blanket over himself with one swoop. The door opened just as James managed to cover himself, James breathing out a sigh of relief. Then, the person entered.
Of course, the person was not human, but a fur. He was a canine, a mutt of sorts, with wolf-like black fur. His tail had a wag to it and his mouth a dumb smile. One characteristic of a worker. The canine wore as little clothes as he himself did. James tried not to glance down, keeping eye-contact as he spoke, though he felt himself start to swell. The canine's auburn eyes looked intent, as if he had seen prey. James decided to be friendly.
"Who are you?" James asked while the canine closed the door.
"Straight to the point, are we? I'm a worker, obviously." The canine's voice was deep, dark, though it came with an uncharacteristic ecstatic tone, dripping off good-willed sarcasm.
James had never actually spoken to a fur before, other than with simple commands and instructions. It was not that it was forbidden, or illegal, but his parents had always warned him of it. They said it might change who he is, and that it might make him want to fail the last exam. Now he had failed the exam, by not failing it. What would the harm be in speaking to one, when he was their prisoner, when he was going to become one? But it was difficult to remove the direct, strict tone. James immediately slipped out of the friendly pretense he had decided to do, realizing the fur was dumb.
His eyes kept trying to divert, to glance down at the canine's crotch, but he managed to stop himself each time. James wasn't sure why he was doing it. He had never, really, been interested in other men. Especially not furs. Perhaps it was just curiosity. But then his cock wouldn't slowly, slowly start to plump up, at the same rate the hair grew in all over his body. James ran a hand over his right arm, the hair felt thick and stiff.
"I meant your name, dumbo. I want to know your name."
"Not dumbo," the canine said, pressing his eyebrows together in a hurt, puppy-eyes look. "It's Caiden." Caiden walked up to the bed and stretched a hand forward without bending his knees, and canines were not short or small creatures. James locked his eyes to Caiden's, his neck turned up, and shook the hand. He tried to ignore the heavy, musky scent that had its source a couple of decimeters from his face. The red top of the sheath was visible by the corner of his eye. "And what is yours?"
That was strange. James was a prisoner. He had done the test. Anyone who worked there should be able to tell his name. Perhaps it was friendly conversation. Perhaps he could test it. He could give another name. A name that was not his own. He sat there, breathing in the musk making it difficult to concentrate. James idly let his left hand fall down to the blanket and onto his groin, to shield himself from Caiden.
Caiden sat down on the bed, the bed sinking in by the weight and James forced to lean into the man's fur-covered muscles. It was oddly peaceful. James knew he should be screaming, that he should be demanding to be let go; there was panic deep within him. But surrounding that panic was a soothing calm, one that made him feel at peace. A sensation stronger than the panic. The canine he leaned onto spoke, "I don't know your name. I want to know your name."
"James." It slipped out of his mouth. All thoughts of lying had been discarded.
"Last name?"
"It is..." James thought, and he thought, and he thought some more. "I don't know." There was something wrong. The memories he had of his parents, of the test. That he could not remember his last name. It hurt.
"Good." Caiden took a hold of James's left arm, and lifted it up to display a tent in the sheets. James's cheeks heated up as he looked away into the corner of the room. A deep chuckle escaped the canine, "Are you enjoying the changes, then?" Caiden started to scratch the arm with his claws, the same way James had, James felt the itching start to increase.
He pulled his arm away and looked down at it. The spot where the canine had scratched him had a visibly larger amount of hair.
"Well, James?"
"N-no." James stammered, he didn't. At least he thought he didn't. His body told him otherwise, but he couldn't see why he was enjoying it. Losing his own identity, his intelligence. To no longer have the ability to do real work, that the average human and the fur couldn't handle. To no longer be able to earn a fortune, become rich. To no longer have true solitude, being part of a group. To no longer have to worry. Maybe that was why he was enjoying it. Because it was mindless. The canine's fur against his own bare skin was oddly comforting. He leaned into the fur and closed his eyes, "No, I don't enjoy it."
Caiden chuckled, wrapping an arm around James's shoulder to bring the changing human closer, "Uh huh." A few minutes of silence went by. James listened to the drum of the ventilation as he continued to feel the skin move around his penis. Crawling back. He figured it was creating a sheath, but that was no clue as to what animal he would become. Maybe a carbon-copy of Caiden? Was it contagious? James had never seen twin furs. The same species? Caiden wasn't bad-looking. But James's fur was becoming blond, not black. The canine was the one to break the silence, "I don't like your name," he said.
That took James aback. James opened his eyes and pulled himself free of the arm hold, "What?"
"I said, I don't like your name."
"What about it?"
Caiden looked down at him, grinning, "You should get a better name."
If there was anything that James would not do, it was changing his name. "No," James protested, as he sniffed the air. The musk had become heavier.
"Aw, come on! It's not a suiting name! It's a real, a common human's name: Boring!" Suddenly, Caiden's tone had become very friendly. His cadence had grown happier, as if they had known each other for a while. When James did not relent, Caiden crossed his arms, "Fine. But think about it."
"I will." James's groin was aching, his heart beat fast. Underneath the playful friendliness in Caiden's voice lay a tone of authority, a tone demanding to be adhered to. If Caiden had demanded that James would come up with another name, or if Caiden himself had come up with one, James would most likely have listened and taken it.
Most of the time when his cock was hard as it was, he had a porn site open, filled with pictures of fake women. That was the way the human part of the world worked. Sex was not much of a taboo. But for humans, it was meant to happen between different genders. That is how they were conditioned.
This was different. It was true that James had never felt the way he did about another man before, but he never had the opportunity. James had never seen or been so near a naked man before. It was the difference of idly stroking your cock to an image or an idea, and desperation. His cheeks heated up again when he realized that he wanted to look between the canine's legs.
"James," Caiden started speaking and scooted over the distance James had created between them, so that their thighs and upper bodies once again touched, "Before I came you called, asking to know what was happening. I think you know. Is there something else?"
James thought, and he thought, and he thought some more. "I wonder why. I wonder, why the trickery? Why does the state take those that are intelligent and force us to change?"
"Intelligent, smart?" The canine placed his paw on James's head, and patted it, "Sweety, you must've absolutely bombed the test. Done very bad. If you're here with me it isn't because you were one of the brightest subjects. Not an intelligent bone in your body. You basically have to try to get to me."
That hurt, because he knew it wasn't true. Caiden seemed so sure, yet James knew Caiden was wrong. He was not dumb. And he didn't need to try to get to Caiden. Also, no one had ever told him, you're dumb as he had been growing up. "Who are you?"
"Caiden, I told you already, silly. And you called yourself smart. Enough about that. Any other questions, or can we start?"
"Start?"
Caiden ignored him, stood up from the bed and walked toward the toilet, looking into a mirror that hung above it. James looked away and stared at the closed door. It had not clicked, it was unlocked. The idea of escape was alluring. He could go abroad, away, to another country. Find refuge. Become one of the nut jobs. But looking down at his own body told him no. In a short time he had grown hair on his chest and belly, a large pelt. The tickling sensation had already spread to his sides, where he could see darker strands. James could try to escape, but at the same time, it felt too good and chances were that he wouldn't make it far.
He decided to wait a little longer before deciding. He would still look human for a while longer.
The silence had grown eery, a clump forming in his heart. "Ca-"
Caiden cleared his throat and crossed his arms between his back, as if preparing for a rehearsed speech. "James, I will be your supervisor and you will be my partner over the next day. You are to be on your best behavior. You are not to attempt to run away, any such attempt would lead to punishment. You are not to question what anyone says or tells you to do, and if you do, you will be punished. You are to be obedient. Do you understand and swear?" Caiden sighed and his body sunk in a little, as if he had been making himself bigger for the mirror.
James had looked back toward the canine as he spoke, this time not caring to keep his eyes away from the body. "Why? What do you mean, 'partner'? What if I don't want to?" James lifted the sheets a little over his hard cock, as it seemed they were touching sensitive flesh. It caused the tent to be bigger, but it felt better.
"Christ, James. You have no idea how hard it is to remember that speech thing. Just swear and do all that. Don't make it harder than you have to. It's not like you don't want to. You're not even trying to hide your glances anymore. I have no clue what I mean with partner. I'm not the one who came up with it." He turned around, showcasing a muscular upper body. The groin James up until that point had been avoiding. The cock still only poked out, so it was the balls that caught his attention. It was no wonder that Caiden had no clothes on when not out on the field, or whatever he did.
Above the groin he was focused on, he saw Caiden looking down at him, too. James quickly covered the tent with his hands, feeling flustered but keeping his eyes idly staring at Caiden's crotch. "Do- don't look at me."
The canine let out a deep chuckle, "Why would I not? You're looking at me, and we are both males," Caiden moved his arm, grabbing his balls and lifting them up for a better look. James looked away. "We both have these, and we both know how they function. Why not, simply, enjoy it?"
He could hear Caiden walk towards him, slowly, the clickety-clack from the claws tapping on the wooden floor. What Caiden was saying rang true in his mind. They were thoughts he himself had - why was the human society so wrung up about enjoying their bodies? No one would need to know. If he escaped, when he would be older, have a wife and two children, no one would have a clue. The footsteps stopped. The heavy musk had returned. A hand, paw - it felt rough against his skin - grabbed a hold of the side of his head, pulling it to face the canine.
In front of him he got his first full, proper, view of the package. A sheath, lighter than the majority of his fur, with a red tip poking out of it. James caught himself licking his lips and stopped. The balls underneath were larger up close, like a pornstar's and nothing like his own. They swayed slightly in the air.
A pressure at the back of his head told him to move forward. The scent became heavier an inch from his face; James's own cock was at full mast. He tried to move a hand down to help it, but Caiden quickly bent down and hit it away, causing the canine groin to make contact with the face.
James licked it, the area between the balls and the sheath. It had a strange taste. It was not a good one, but it was not unpleasant. It simply was. The taste was not the thing which excited him, which set a chill through his spine. It was the thought that did, the thought of serving, of helping out, of being a good d- citizen. He gave it another lick before Caiden pushed him away.
"As much as I want you to continue..." The red tip had extended further. "Your fur is growing in faster than I thought. If only you could see your back... We need to get going. Come." Caiden took a step back and offered him a hand.
"Why!?" It came out more angsty than he expected. It felt wrong to stop so soon.
"Dinner. Now, take my hand. We need to go."
Well, this is it for Chapter 1. I may have been a bit of a tease there, I apologize and I promise to make it up to you in the next chapter, which will be released on Sunday the 2nd of August! As I said in the description, do not be afraid to give honest critique. Comment, vote, favorite, anything! I rarely write chapter stories and am completely lost in what I am doing! Heeeelp!
Also, since this was a bit of a tease, I will provide easy links to the most popular stories of mine that are not.Pleasure of the Wild North, A Different Sort of Sword and Passion of the Dome!