I recognized her the second I opened the door, but not in a way I ever expected.
She was now only three and a half feet tall, her tiny little face covered in dark black velvety hair that shimmered in the low light. She had a rounded snub of a muzzle, poking out of a dense mass of fluffy white hair that draped down her back, her bright green eyes half obscured by it.The rest of her was obscured by the big throw, making it look like she was a head upon a patchwork mound, but I knew she had a curvy body covered in black velvet, as I had helped design it.
This was Meep, her sheepy fursona. She and I had designed a dozen as part of an art sale, but she had fallen in love with it, and soon adopted it as her own.
We stood staring at each other for a good while, her face surprisingly neutral, mine unsurprisingly smug.
“You know,” I said, breaking the silence, “part of me was hoping that you would throw me a curve ball and turn yourself into a newt.”
“I thought you liked me as Meep?” She meeped.
“I do, it's just very predictable.”
She snorted a laugh covering her muzzle with the blanket. I just adjusted my robe, walking past her and flumping onto the sofa. She followed close behind, her dainty hooves clopping on the laminate. She stopped before me, standing between the TV and the coffee table, swaying.
Another silence fell, the two of us thinking about what to say next, but in two very different ways. I wanted to tell her that I thought she was cute, but that it was also a very strange experience looking at her fursona IRL. Sure, this wasn’t the first time I had seen a furry in real life, but they were rare enough to be jarring to look at. That was before you considered the more pressing concern; that this was both my girlfriend, and a character I had helped physically design. I felt like a sculptor, looking at a finished project that came out better than expected.
On the other hand I was very conscious of her body image, and I didnt want to upset her. I could only imagine what it must feel like to look like that, especially considering I never really was a furry too. Moreover, Meep had become one of a flock, a small gang of sheepy furries that always travelled together online and in cons. It was strange seeing her so isolated, and staring at her in silence for as long as I did probably wasn’t helping.
A moment later, we broke the silence in unison, talking over each other. I laughed, she smiled, and we both went a little red. I gestured for her to go first, giving the biggest reassuring smile I could muster.
“It's weird.” She said, the redness shining through the fur. “It's one thing to look at Meep in art, another looking at her in reality. But I do, uh…”
“Like it?” I smiled. She nodded, going silent again, looking away, stroking at her chest under the blanket. When we had finished designing the fursona the thing looked inadequately sheepish, so our last acts were to put a ‘floofy poufe’ on her just, to match her floofy poufe of a tail.
“I…” She started. “It's pretty nice, but a lot to get used to. I kinda wish I had waited until the nerd crew call later on, transform a few of us together.”
“Leaf gang?” I joked. She smiled and nodded, but quickly returned to a blushing state, averting her eyes.
“I know you said you like it,” she murmured, “but it's cool if it's a bit, uh… Real life is…”
“I like it.” I interjected. “It is a little strange, like you said, but I do in fact like it. If you wanna stay like that I’m gonna continue to love you, and find you sexy.”
I grinned at her picking up the Chroniphone off the table, looking at her deets. She blushed brighter, but her face curled into a smile, trotting on over to me with a spring in her step. A second later I stopped her trot with a despondent gesture, pointing at the timer, which sat at 4 days.
“But,” I blurted, grinning, “if you are gonna stay like that, if you are going to get used to looking like that, you are going to have to get used to me looking at you like that.”
She stood still, the anxiety in her eyes fishing for something in my gaze, looking to see if I was saying this to make her happy, or if it was something I truly wanted. After years of seeing that face, of knowing that anxiety in her and me I knew what I had to do.
“I have been blessed,” I growled as I slid over, “the lady in my life has leapt from one godly state to another.” I put a hand on the small of her back, pushing her towards me and pulling the top of her blanket down. Her cloven feet clattered, destabilized, pushing the blanket down further, making her mutter a vague and apprehensive sound. She turned away again, revealing the fluff of fur on her chest, and the rest of the black velvet on her body. “I’m in the presence of a divine beauty, an awesome power that I am only subject to.”
She was centimeters away, her heavy breath mixing with my own. Finally, she looked back at me, her eyes fluttering, hands emerging from the quilted rags to grab the collar of my bathrobe, diving into a kiss.
It was certainly the strangest kiss I ever experienced, but also one of the best. I could feel her anxiety melting away, consumed by a throbbing lust, the feeling of self-assured sexiness rising in her belly. It was very infectious, and I found my instincts pulling her from the sheets, into my arms, her lust pushing her tiny frame atop me, and her tongue into my mouth. A second later, with time starting to flow again, I started laughing beneath her, stroking the velvet on her back, toying with her tail, the snog fading into tiny kisses.
She rose up, grinning but still blushing.
“That’s fine,” she smiled, “You will just have to get used to looking at me too.”
Her dainty hands were stroking on my chest, with her almost comically thicc hips mounting me. It was like every part of her body was centred on her centre mass, her comically generous booty, which I grabbed with a slap. She let out a sensual meep, beaming a grin at me. It still wasn’t enough to completely dispel her anxiety, but I could feel it fading.
“Well, Mr Daunt, is that a Chronivac in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” She said, rubbing over the impression the device made in my pocket. I took the device out, switching it on as I watched her eyes light up.
The device was smart. After Kayla scanned her sona in the machine had found the other dozen designs we had made. The ones I had sold were labeled ‘Active Leaf Gang,’ which included ten sheep, a stallion, a mare, a cow, and a goat. The unsold designs rose to the top, as ‘inactive leaf gang,’ which included two sheep (a female and a femboy), a cow, a bull, a stallion, a mare, and another goat.
Around them was an orbit of antagonists in the form of a small army of predatory animals, wolves especially, and the critters that flowed between. They all moved across a great map, with logs of roleplays connecting the strands between the characters. Kayla’s RPs were so numerous they acted as an epicentre, blotting out the background.
We both blushed in unison.
“Seems you rather like barnyard…” I started, only to be shushed with a trotter.
“Not another word!” She exclaimed, trying to push the phone from my hand. I fought back, however, with a better plan in my mind.
“Stoph bae-bphe, I onwee wan oo helph!” She stopped, weight still muffling my mouth. I removed it, rubbing the red mark it left. “Maybe I should - erm - join the game? Join the gang? I dunno.”
Meep, lowered her guard, shooting daggers at me.
“Which gang?” She growl-meeped. "You can't just... There are rules."
"Seriously?" I laughed. She pulled up her own phone from the table, presenting me with a full blown PDF.
"Serously."