The Fursecution of Sammy Lightyear


Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Hermaphrodite, Science Fiction, Space, Sex Toys, sci-fi adult story,sci-fi sex story,adult science fiction story.

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Sammy and friends find themselves at a furs convention. Sammy finds things a bit too hot too handle after Aerie has her fitted for her own baboon-fursuit.

The four of them stood staring in open-mouthed shock at the huge crowd of people surrounding them. Finally Syrie turned to his sister and said, "Sis, I love ... well, no, actually right now I hate you, but in either case sometimes you are an idiot."

"But I was so sure," was all Aerie could say in reply as she continued to stare at the scene around her.

For her own part Sammy was babbling as she stared at the mobs of people around her. "I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a nightmare. I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a nightmare. I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a nightmare. I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a nightmare. I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a nightmare. I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up, I'm having a night-."

Aerie finally snapped and slapped Sammy on her ass. "Snap out of it! You are not dreaming! This is very real."

"Hey, don't go off on her," Syrie said, rounding on his sister. "This is all your fault!"

"But I honestly thought this was a convention for people with fur coats," Aerie protested.

Aerie pointed up to the giant banner hung from the domed ceiling of the vast convention center which read, '231st annual Palisadae Furs Convention'. "This is a tropical resort. Who in their right mind would wear heavy fur coats to this place? Well, other than us four that is?" Syrie gave his sister a look of utter disgust.

"Yeah, I have to say I'm sweating my ass off," Sammy agreed. "And that's not hyperbole. Sweat is quite literally rolling off my ass and running down my legs. I could probably wring a liter of sweat out my socks right now."

"I have to say I myself am quite comfortable," Verdandi said.

"Hey, if you think we have it bad just imagine being in a fursuit like all these motherfuckers" Aerie said. "So stop complaining."

"What is the purpose of this gathering?" Verdandi asked. "Is it a religious observance?"

Aerie laughed. "Yeah, it's the kind of religious observance that usually ends with guys in fursuits sodomizing each other. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that fursuits make me itchy."

"Sounds like you've done this thing before," Sammy said.

"Oh, a very long time ago," Aerie said. "Before you were born."

"So you knew exactly what this convention was about!" Syrie said, his girlish voice brittle with anger. "You're always doing something like this!"

"I said it was a long time ago," Aerie replied. "I honestly had forgotten about the whole furry scene until just now. I promise I'm not jerking your chain this time. Honest!"

"Are we really supposed to believe-"

"What, do you expect me to remember every single sexual encounter I've had in the last two centuries?" Aerie demanded. "I really forgot, so give it a rest already!"

Sammy shrugged out of the heavy mink coat she was wearing. "Kids, can we stop arguing for now? We're drawing attention and frankly it scares me."

Indeed, a number of nearby people in bearsuits, catsuits and a lone bunnyfur were looking them over. From somewhere in the crowd someone muttered, "Mundanes," and the crowd of furs seemed to close around the quartet.

Sensing the potential for violence Sammy dropped the heavy fur coat she was holding and stepped away from her companions in order to give herself room to maneuver. She shifted her feet apart and brought her fists up into what could be best described as a ready stance. She didn't like the idea of starting a brawl with a bunch of civilians but if a brawl started she fully intended to be the one to finish it.

However, it turned out to be unnecessary when Aerie intervened. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys," she called out. "See, we just got in from Hoth and our luggage got lost on the way so now we don't have any fursuits. We were hoping that maybe someone could point us towards an enterprising tailor or seamstress that could maybe, you know, turn these fur coats into suits." She regarded her companions with a sorrowful look. "I guess we'll have to settle for being minkfurs for the time being."

"Why didn't you just wear your fursuits during your trip?" a bearfur asked.

"Couldn't," Aerie replied. "The cruise line wouldn't allow us to. Said it would make the other passengers uncomfortable."

There several sympathetic and knowing nods among the furs surrounding them and a few mutters of, "Fursecution."

"You don't have to settle for being a bunch of minkfurs," the bunnyfur said helpfully. "There's a fursuit flea market here. At conventions this big there's always furs looking to try a new fursona or trying to sell old fursuits so they can get enough money to upgrade to a higher quality suit."

"Somebody else's old cast-offs?" Aerie said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "I don't think so. I don't relish the idea of crawling into some ratty stinky old bearsuit some guy has been sweating in. Hell, just having the words 'fursuit' and 'flea' right next to each other in a sentence is making me all itchy."

"Well there are a number of custom made vendors here if you don't mind spending the money for new," the bunnyfur said. "However, it might be helpful if you told me what your fursonas are first."

"Well, I'm a foxfur," Aerie said. She pointed at Syrie. "My brother here is a platypusfu-"

"I am not a platypusfur!" Syrie yelled. "I'm a bunnyfur, just like you," he told the bunny suited boy.

"Brother?" the bunnyfur repeated, confused. "So you're actually a boy?"

"I am not a boy," Syrie said. "I'm just a girl who happened to be born with the wrong equipment."

"That's great Syrie," Aerie said, "now shut up. As I was saying, Verdandi here is a mousefur and Sammy over there is a baboonfur."

"Baboonfur?" Sammy said in surprise, turning to look at Aerie.

"Don't be shy now," Aerie said to Sammy. "Nobody here is going to judge you just because you like to let your bare ass hang out of your fursuit."

"Excuse me but I do NOT like letting my ass hang out in public!" Sammy shouted.

"This is a furry convention, hardly any of the guys will even bother to look," the bunnyfur said. He put an arm around Syrie's shoulders. "You on the other hand ... well let's just say that a cute cross-dressing bunnyfur is exactly my type. Now let's see if we can't find you a proper bunnysuit."

Syrie gave his bunnysuited would-be suitor a smile. "I put myself in your hands, Mr... ?"

"The name is Chaz," the bunnysuited boy said. "No 'Mr.' needed or desired. And I think that my hands are very good place for you to be."

"Yeah, that's great," Aerie said. "But what about the rest of us?"

"Hmm, well you being a foxfur might be difficult," Chaz said. "Not many furries have fox fursonas so foxsuits aren't in much demand. You can get a foxsuit but it will cost more."

"Money is no object," Aerie informed him.

"In that case everything just got a lot easier."

The young woman looked up at the three girls from the metal folding chair she was sitting in behind the table of her vendor's booth. "Well, dears, that indeed is a tragic tale. Of course, I can't be too sad about it seeing as how your misfortune is turning you into customers of necessity."

"So, no problem?" Aerie asked. She read the woman's nametag. "You can take care of us ... Stacy?"

"No problem," Stacy assured her. "Custom fursuits are our specialty after all. Now we need to take measurements. Which one of you ladies would like to go first?"

Aerie gave Sammy a push. "Here's your first volunteer."

"Damn it, Aerie," Sammy cried out. "Why not go first yourself?"

"Stop whining and just do it," Aerie commanded.

Stacy put a hand on Sammy's arm. "Nothing to be scared of. I'll just take a few quick measurements and then you'll be done. Just head on into the changing room and strip down. I'll be right with you in a few moments."

"Strip down?" Sammy asked. "As in get naked?"

"Well you can keep your bra and panties on of course," Stacy replied.


"Don't be so shy," Stacy said with a laugh. "You don't have anything I haven't already seen hundreds of times before."

"Yeah, well, I bet you haven't seen anything quite like me before," Sammy muttered under her breath as she complied with Stacy's directions and stepped into the changing room.

Moments later Stacy stepped into the dressing room with a measuring tape in hand. "Oh, you didn't need to get completely nak- Oh my! That certainly is big. Ummm ... you are a Futanari? Yes?"

"Yup, that's me," Sammy said. "Just your everyday friendly furry Futanari. Look, can we just get this over with so I can get my clothes back on and get out of your hair?"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Stacy said. "The human body is a beautiful work of art."

Sammy jerked her thumb towards the dressing room door. "There are fifteen thousand people out there who don't agree with you."

Stacy laughed. "What? All of them? I doubt it. Sure, they might like getting into fursuits but I really doubt it means they hate the human form." She absentmindedly scratched her head. "Well, I think they like the human form just fine. They just prefer it covered with fur."

"And you?" Sammy asked.

"This is a living for me," Stacy said. "I don't fursuit."

"Oh, kinda like being a drug dealer who is also a user is bad idea?" Sammy asked.

Stacy stared at the Futanari, her expression unreadable. "You are a strange girl. It's nothing like that. I'm just not into fursuiting is all. Anyway, we've wasted enough time. Ready for me to take your measurements?"

.... There is more of this story ...

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