You can see that it is an anthro raccoon costume. However, it's nothing like those goofy, cartoonish costumes you see convention-goers
wearing on the news. It looks like a real raccoon was skinned and stretched to human proportions. It's kind of creepy, but at the same
time pretty cool as you imagine how good it will look when worn.
"Wow," you state your amazement to Paul. "Where did you find such a life-like costume?"
"Actually, I made it."
"What?! Did you skin a real raccoon?"
"Not personally; my uncle's a taxidermist. I made the suit out of real fur. The only thing that isn't original is the head, obviously. I had to
make a helmet and attach the hair in the pattern to get it to look real. What do you think?"
"That is disturbingly awesome."
"Oh, don't worry, the inside's lined with cotton, like a t-shirt. Other than the raccoon hair, it's just like any other costume. Want to try it
on?" he asks.
"Me? Don't you want to wear it?"
"You think I didn't try this on the second it was finished? I wanted you to see how cool it was!"
"Why me?"
"We've been friends since kindergarten. Even after it got out that I was into Furries, you didn't make fun of me like the others. I know
you distanced yourself from me so they wouldn't call you weird too, but I think you'd actually be interested in this stuff too if you'd give it
a try. What do you say?"
You feel guilty about abandoning him to the cruel humiliation he had suffered for his passion. He'd spent so much effort just to get you
to be his friend again. You couldn't refuse. When you accept, he hands you half of the costume.
"I made it separate pieces like a shirt and pants so you wouldn't have a big ugly zipper down your back. Put the shirt on first, then the
pants will hide the break."
You follow Paul's instructions and put the top on. You slide your arms in until your hands fill the paws. Once it's on, he hands you the
head. It feels tight like a football helmet as you squeeze in. A mouthpiece makes the jaw move along with your own and binocular-like
devices allow you to see through the costume's glass eyes. You are amazed at the intricate and technical design that went into this
costume.
"Ready to put on the bottom?" Paul says from behind you. You respond that you are. "Okay, you'll have to take your pants and
underwear off."
"What? Why?" You didn't exactly want to get naked in front of another guy.
"If you leave them on, the bottom will look too bulky compared to the top. You want it to look as real as possible."
You don't like it, but you see the reasoning. You take off your pants and under wear and tell Paul to hurry up and help you into the
bottom. But Paul doesn't answer. Instead, you turn around to see Paul wearing the bottom which you now see has a hole cut in it for his
penis to stick out.
"Ew! Dude! What are you doing? That's disgusting!"
He doesn't say anything, but lunges towards you and grabs onto your waist. Before you can say anything, you are suddenly dragged
into a world of confusion and chaos. The helmet melds into your skull and you see out of the mask instead of through the binoculars.
Your jaw connects to the costume and you feel sharp teeth burst forth from your new bone. Your body attaches to the skin of the suit
and the padded paws become your hands while claws grow from their tips. Down below, you feel Paul's body and yours smash together
until your waist and his are connected and you are one body covered in fur.
You are dropped to the ground in exhaustion from your change. You can barely move, but your mind is awash with new feelings and
thoughts. You can sense another presence: Paul. His mind has merged with yours. You now have all of the thoughts and memories of
your friend. You are in too much shock to notice that his consciousness is forcing you up on your feet and over to the mirror.
You see yourself now, a full-blown anthro raccoon standing in Paul's room. You are naked, from a certain point of view, since you can
see Paul's cock hanging from your crotch. It is now protruding from a fur-covered foreskin with a rather large pair of testicles in a furry
sack beneath it. You can feel Paul ordering you to stroke yourself, and you must obey. It's your body and your mind, but he is in control.
You jack off to the sight of your new body. You could still make out your muscular form beneath the fur. Paul had been an avid runner,
so his legs matched your torso perfectly. He was very well-endowed as well at ten inches erect, but you were pretty sure the orange-
sized testicles were altered. You hadn't been gay before, but Paul's essence was filling your mind so much with lust and ecstasy that
you probably would've fucked a rock right then.
You knew what this meant. That Paul had become obsessive over you, had become gay for you, had found some way to merge the two
of you into one anthro 'coon so that he could share his dream body with you. It was creepy beyond belief, but you were forced to think
of nothing else but how much you (Paul) wanted your own body.
He forced you to lay on the bed and bend over. As a much more flexible raccoon, your mouth easily reached and covered your own
cock and proceeded to give yourself a blow job. It was almost like you had done this before, but it definitely wasn't your skill being
utilized. Your rough 'coon tongue felt both slightly painful and extremely pleasurable as it stroked your length. You finally came in your
own mouth and suckled it down like nectar.
You lay in the glow of your ecstasy and wondered what Paul had in mind next.