The Furry House

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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Abigail giggled and spun, the young adult in her first home. It was the best home that she could have hoped for with a slanting, pitched roof and a veranda out the front where she hoped she could sit when work was done for the day. It cast a warm glow out to the residential street beyond and was too big for her first house, though Abigail loved it all the same.

She held her hands out far to either side of her body, fingers itching, aching and tingling. Something about the house and its smooth, wooden floors, however, was missing. There was something more that she could do, another way that she could take things, if only she was bold enough to try.

"I wish... Oh, I wish..."

One wish, one shift, one change for a woman who was great, so very great. If only those around her knew how great she was.

It was a great house, but she had something more in hand, laughing, her blonde hair flipping back over her shoulder in a long, shiny ponytail. Her blue eyes sparkled with a touch of magic, though her slight form did not appear capable of such feats, at least not at first glance. That was where those that had not believed in her were very, very wrong.

But she didn't have anything to prove to them. Never again.

She licked her lips, eyeing up the house, drawing on her powers, magic lingering in her breath, the bat of her eyelashes, in every tiny little fibre of her body. Clasping her hands to her chest, she whispered her wish, though the magic to take it for her own was already inside her, deep down, ready to be unlocked once again.

"This is good..."

She paused, dragging out her words even though there was no one there but her to hear.

"...But I think this would be better if it was a little more...furry, hm?"

First things first, Abigail, however, had to take on her true form. She grinned widely, exulting in finally having a space to call her own, no longer renting, owning, the family home that her relatives had been kind enough to leave her. It was not a house that she had honestly spent too much time again, though she had always loved the design and it was the wide, sweeping front staircase (overly dramatic) that she stood before as her body ached in the change.

For Abigail was not just a woman but a woman capable of shifting, taking on her true form, a body that was both her and not her at the same time. She could be human and avian simultaneously, though the crux of it all, her body sprouting the quills of feathers, quickly feathering themselves in luxurious green feather. Abigail gasped, yet her clothes were too tight for such a form, her body straining against them, the seams growing more and more fractured, the space between each stitch trying to accommodate it.

"Can't...hold it...anymore..."

Her top half was the first to go as her chest became a little larger, a little more bird-like with that proudly curved breastbone, though there was still a female shape underneath. That may be more difficult to pick out after her change, however, her entire body growing, thighs thickening too, though the deciding factor about her whole transformation was the fluffiness of her feathers. Her fingers disappeared, becoming the first feathers of her wings, though stuffing wings into the sleeves of a T-shirt too was so not becoming for a woman like her, a shifter with more powers than, initially, they were willing to let on.

Abigail grunted, twisting and squirming, rolling her shoulders back -- and her clothes tore with a colossal rip. Although her jeans were still tight around her hips and buttocks, a tail sprouting there too in a rich plume of feathers, her arm-wings were the deciding factor for her top half, a thick layer of feathers covering her chest so that her modesty as a bird-person was very easily maintained.

Her shoulders rounded, thick and powerful, her body so luxuriously feathered that it was a wonder indeed that Abigail would have ever wanted to stay or live as a human. She smiled widely, but her face bulged out, stretching into a dark grey beak, her eyes turning a little more teal, a little more mysterious. Yet her bird form was such that she could still smile with a beak, being more than "just a bird".

No... She was a bird shifter and that was better than anything else!

Her T-shirt hung from her shoulders in ragged shreds, the side seams ripping, popping loose. There was nowhere else for her body to go and her hips expanded too, her legs and lower half needing to support a body that was much larger than what her clothes were used to. But that was no problem as she did not mind outgrowing her clothes one bit, not as her tail did a number on her jeans and burst straight through the back.

Her feet transformed to avian claws, soft feathers coating her legs down to the ankle otherwise, as her tail rose up and up and up, the plumage higher than her head and curling over a little -- a magnificent tail if ever she saw one. Her clothes were ruined, her underwear but a passing thought, yet there was greater modesty and dignity in how her feathers negated the need for any clothes.

As a bird, she was a little more solidly built, but it felt right to be so, Abigail laughing and growing her arm-wings to the ceiling.

"Now... Grow!"

All magic that she could have needed was within her reach and the green of her feathers...slowly spread. Her feathers were so plush and fluffy that they might have as well been fur, though what she sent into the house to grow and spread was pure fur, creeping into the wallpaper, pushing it free.

She laughed. Everything must be fur.

The sofa prickled with a layer of green fur, the shades varying, though she ran her wing-fingers over it lovingly, adoring every change.

"Yes... Grow, my sweet, grow so much more for me! Spread everywhere! Leave no corner untouched!"

She spun with her wing-arms wide, eyes glazed over with passion for her changes, turning the house into the perfect image of the home she yearned for. The armchairs layered themselves in green fur too, growing more thickly in the gaps between the cushions and the backs and sides of the chair, legs crawling with it. Even the TV grew fur, the screen coated, though it was a thinner layer of fluttering fluff there so that the screen itself could still just about be seen through the fur.

Every wall became green, fluffing up thick and full as the floor was no longer solid, but a luxurious carpet of green fur, exactly as she had wanted. Abigail laughed and danced in her bird form, flapping her wing-arms to half take flight, if only for a moment. She only would not take flight in there because there simply was not enough room to do so.

Still, she spread her magic and the fur further, worming into the walls of the house, walls cracking, the carpets ripping, all to make room for her fur, her gorgeous fur. Her love for fur was unparalleled as she hugged her own fluffy body, giggling aloud, the furry floor growing and growing.

Two inches.

One foot.

Two feet.

It grew and grew like a grassy field, though it was much more sensually soft than that -- at least to Abigail. She wriggled into it, digging her wing-fingertips into the fluff, relishing in the fur, the fluffiness of it all. Oh, it was gorgeous, divine, even as it broke through the plaster on the wall, destroying the house from the inside out solely so that Abigail could remake it all in a better image, the right image, ultimately. It was hers to do with as she wanted as fur protruded from the plug sockets, trotting into the kitchen to see how her furry wrath was spreading there too.

Pots and pans balanced on a sea of green, fur puffing up between the metal fixing of the gas hob on top of the oven. Oh, she wouldn't have needed that anyway! Not even as the fur broke tiles from the wall above the gas hob and the splashback area behind the sink, cracking them and popping off the more resilient ones to make way for the fur.

More, always more... She had to have fur everywhere, yes, so much more, the kitchen floor breaking, shattering, fur pushing up urgently, more and more so, between the cracks, as if there was suddenly some need for it. She laughed and waltzed into the side office, though she already knew that the fur was bursting into the bedrooms, swarming the beds, covering everything that should already have been soft and comfortable in an even more decadent coating of fur.

It was glorious, so very much so, the desk popping drawers off with fur bursting from within hem, pictures knocked off the walls, fur taking over, dominating everything. There was nothing but fur, only fur, her wing-arms flapping, squawking, enjoying every moment as she spun and danced in the magic of it all.

Oh, it was wonderful, so very glorious, everything that she could ever have wanted from her wish and more. She was powerful as a shifter, yet it took a wish, one little wish, to bring her dreams to life, her house furry, even the roof breaking off tiles as it sprouted a roof of living fluff to keep her warm and dry instead.

Crrrrreeeeeaaaaak!

The boards on the veranda decking outside popped and ached for relief as the fur bulged them out, forcing them to break free, her beak parted as she joined the fur outside.

"Yes... Yes, it's time to grow! Grow, my lovely, grow!"

Abigail leapt and danced on the veranda, the gaps in the wooden railings thick with fur so that the house behind it could hardly be seen anymore. Even the garden and the lawn would be covered in fur by that time, transforming it into a wonderland of artificial green, waving lightly in four-foot-high swathes as if it really was grass. Yet it was better than grass, even as the fur sprouting more deeply in the kitchen shattered plates, shoving them out of the cupboards.

Everything was destroyed, breaking down what had become hers to make it something new, something furrier, something even better than before. The fur pushed the beds to the side upstairs, shoving them into the walls -- for there had to be more and more space for the fur to grow, blossoming and blooming and filling the entire house.

It had to go somewhere as it burst from bedroom doors, forcing them out and open, even though there was no space for the doors to move into either, everything escalating out of control. Yet Abigail was in her element, her wing-arms raised high to the sky, screeching her enjoyment of it all -- if anyone that may have been watching would have had any question about it. Her flapping wing-arms should have told that tale well enough for her and, truly, the fur coating even the outside bricks and timber of the house, growing through cracks in the mortar, would reveal the true nature of the house.

The furry house on the block... And all would know the bird-shifter living there. It was not something to be shamed, nothing to be set aside, all for her, only for her.

The furry house would shock everyone, drop jaws, yet it would be hers, fur bristling through the windows, all in her sweet, deep green, the shade of forests and rolling meadows, fields in summer. Abigail giggled, wings flapping, her eyes sparkling as she relished in her form, her life, her changes.

"Everything's coming up furry..."

And for Abigail and her magnificent furry house, it most certainly was!