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.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Part One
The goat yawned, closing the door to his bedroom behind him and rolling his shoulders back. It had been a long day at work and getting back into his apartment had been a long grind and not one that he would be all that keen to repeat come the next morning. But it had to be done and Wintergreen understood that it was the way of it. Even though work was hard, it was satisfying. There were not all that many furs in the world that could say that, considering the current state of affairs. There, he was one of the lucky ones.
The fourth-floor apartment was a good height too without being too high up, the tan and brown curls of his fur coat showing a hint of autumn on the air. He would grow a little bit of a thicker winter coat, going through a shed, though that was sometimes disrupted by the lives that anthros led in more civilised environments than their wild, feral ancestors. They didn't need all that their bodies had grown to accept to best survive, yet some things remained. Other things, like male nipples hidden under their fur, had evolved with their changes over many, many years. That was something that some liked and some disliked, but many mammalian furs, at the very least, had.
What was he thinking about? The goat shook himself. His head was all over the place, pausing only to glance out at the street outside, his horns curved back in typical goat-like fashion, though they were larger than most. Some cars still passed by, headlights adding a spot of illumination to the street, though there was another block of apartments opposite him, a built-up residential area that was fairly safe to be in. A few streets over was a shopping centre and some handy food places that did takeaway, Chinese and Thai and Indian. It was good to have variety, but he could easily get to the larger shopping centres and supermarkets in the heart of the city as and when needed.
But Wintergreen was tired, so tired, yawning, though the goat didn't bother to cover his mouth when there was no one there to be polite to. He tried to be mannerly, but it was difficult, very difficult, when his cloven hooves dragged with every step, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, pouring and tipping down his back. There was not too much on his mind though, just churning and bubbling over with the thought of what he had to do the next day, though he only had a normal day planned at work for that. There would be no hanging back after work to get a report done that, frankly, was not all that important.
No... Better to sleep, to rest, to take the time needed for himself so that he could come back refreshed the next day.
Wintergreen drew his T-shirt off over his head, careful of his horns, though the purple hints in his fur could not easily be seen with the dimness of his apartment. He just didn't have the energy to shower, not at all, not even to feed himself, though his stomach yawned hungrily, rumbling away in less than quiet discontent.
In the morning, he'd get a "terrible for him" fast food breakfast to fill himself up again. He couldn't keep going, after all, without enough gas in the tank, so to speak. The goat tumbled into bed, grunting and groaning as he kicked at the sheets, struggling to get comfortable when he could have pulled them up and over himself. Sometimes, the awkward option just seemed like the best one in the moment, even if that was by far not the case.
Sleep dragged him down, however, the bedsheets only half covering him, one leg cast out to the side. His shaft was exposed, soft and resting gently against his crotch, though that was no matter to him when he was along. He yawned, laying his head back, sleep pulling heavily at his eyelids. Staying awake was not an option.
Thus, Wintergreen slept. Yet the world that he awoke to the next day would be nothing like the one that he had gone to sleep seeing.
*
Something was wrong. He could tell that as soon as he awoke, blinking groggily, grunting softly in the back of his throat. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It didn't make sense, as if there was a fresh weight on him, though his back and shoulders did not ache at all. In fact, he felt quite refreshed, the morning sunshine cast through the window where the curtains had not been drawn the night before. Dimly, the sound of traffic, hustling and bustling for a busy day ahead, filtered in through the window where it was not quite as soundproof as someone living in a city apartment might have liked.
But what was wrong? As he blinked back to wakefulness, he shifted in bed, wriggling back and forth, though he didn't quite understand. No furry could, for what had occurred while he had slept was far, far beyond the realm of any reality that Wintergreen had known prior, though the world around him had changed and shifted while he slept. And there was no going back to the world that he'd known, no matter how much he may have liked to...
He sat up -- or, at least, he tried to. A heavy weight over his crotch felt as if it was pinning him down, holding him there, though Wintergreen shivered, oddly cold too. He knew that he had not coved himself up all that well the night before, but it was not that bad, was it? Maybe he needed to put the central heating on again, but neither did it feel all hat far into Autumn, the faintest hint of orange and brown tenderly feeling out the readiness of the leaves to be felled. Yet when his eyes opened he recoiled in horror, scrabbling back against the headboard of the bed, a low curse breaking his lips.
"What the fuck?"
If it had been a fantasy, with a partner or even on his own before the computer playing some particularly kinky pornography, everything would have been fine. Yet what had happened was, very clearly not fine as his throbbing, hard cock and balls trembled before him as if they were trying to call attention to themselves. Not that a two-foot-long cock could have possibly been discreet in any way, achingly hard as if far too much blood had rushed to it.
