This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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The Striped Filly
Flying Changes
Chapter Four
When Christian woke the next morning, something was very wrong.
Sitting up slowly in his double bed, he swung his legs cautiously over the edge of the mattress, ignoring its creak. Anxiety trembled through his stomach, snakes tying themselves into knots in the depths of his belly. He thumbed over the darker, thicker hair on the back of his hand, bare chest rising and falling rapidly. The hair spread down his chest too, darkening his skin as if he had been painted in his sleep, something itching at the base of his spine.
It almost looked like...no. He balked, leaping up and stumbling over his own feet. Cracking one into the bed frame, he swore and hopped on one foot, pulling the other up as if he could soothe the pain away with the mere act of cradling it.
But something was wrong there too. Pulling his foot away from his body, he gaped at the toes that had fused together in his sleep, in the process of forming something that looked all too familiar. His heart drummed viciously and he rolled through the wave of nausea. It wasn't quite a hoof, but it was certainly getting there.
Lunging for the phone on his bedside table, he dialled the number of the only one he could trust with hands that shook so badly that it took him several attempts to get the number correct.
"Anna?"
"Christian?" The zebra yawned down the telephone line. "This is early for you."
"Anna..." He said again, sinking back on the bed with the phone pressed to his ear like a lifeline. "What would you say if I said that I..."
He struggled with the ears as the zebra made concerned noises, huffs and snorts that nudged him into urgency.
"What would you say if I said that I was growing more hair over me..." He swallowed, twisting to look at his back and then down at his chest. "All over my body. It..." He cursed and tried again. "It looks like your coat. Only just one colour. It's hair - a coat of hair!"
He jerked the phone away from his ear as the zebra brayed noisily down the line.
"It's as I thought!"
He could almost see her trotting in circles around her hotel room.
"I'll be right there!"
His brow creased.
"You don't even know where I live."
The zebra snorted and his heart throbbed with longing for her warm breath on his skin.
"You'd best tell me then."
Sometime later, on Anna's insistence, sitting with his back to the wall at the London Feral Research Centre, Christian shifted his buttocks uncomfortably. The fresh protrusion of bone at the base of his spine itched, twitching back and forth in the confines of his jeans as it struggled to situate itself comfortably. The researcher - he could not be called a physician - peered at him, tilted Chris' head back to look into his mouth.
"Hm... Interesting..." He murmured, using a small torch to look right to the back. "I've never seen it happen so quickly before. When did you say you met again?"
He directed his question to Anna, standing beside him with a worried flick in her tail.
"Last week. Wednesday. On his radio show."
"It's not my show," Christian mumbled, wrenching his jaw away. "What the hell is this all about? What the fuck is wrong with me and why am I starting to look like a..."
He couldn't make himself finish the sentence, clamping his jaw shut and folding his arms across his chest. The researcher, who had introduced himself as Louie only moments before laying curious hands on Christian, scratched the stubble on his chin, blue eyes serious.
"It's truly remarkable how quickly the transformation is progressing. How have you felt the last few days, Christian?" Louie spread his arms wide, beaming toothily as if sharing a great secret with Christian. "Come now - tell me everything!"
Christian pressed his lips tightly together. How had he felt? Elated. Giddy. On top of the world. Sickened. Worried. Low.
"I've been fine."