Celebrity Story Site
Stories & Art => Celebrity Stories => Social Media => Topic started by: HER_ABHORRED_SHEARS on February 01, 2025, 08:09:10 PM
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Not my favorite story—a funny idea, until it wasn't.
In an ideal world I'd research these zoomer celebs instead of blindly oneshotting stories about them: Sofia Gomez does a ton of nerd-jerkoff cosplay shit and would probably have no issues with going to a furry convention. Oh well, it's not as though my portrayal of her is in any way realistic.
The furry convention portrayed in this story is also unrealistic in that it's full of heterosexual men and takes actual efforts to stop minors from attending.
- Juliette
Sofia Gomez Goes To A Furry Convention
(m/f, mmm/f, light f/f, big tits, big ass, orgy, humiliation, anal, gangbang)
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez.jpg)
The front door went crash. You heard it through three layers of walls. Sofia Gomez had arrived.
Morgan Dieffenbacker's entire body stress-tensed as she heard her boss walking down the hall. You work as Sofia Gomez's booking agent? Her friends all told her. Oh my God, that must be a dream!
Yeah, no shit. The kind of dream where you're giving a school recital in your underwear while a bull shark chomps on your face.
Sofia Gomez was a vile person: a Mean Girls-esque high school bully fused at the upper basal ganglia with Tony Montana. Had Sofia gone insane with fame, drugs, and dick? Or had she been born a 9.1 on the Bitchter Scale? Truly, a mystery for the ages.
Morgan overheard Sofia's coke-fried chatter as she strutted down the hall. Bragging about the parties she'd been to; the rich and famous men who'd hit on her (and been rejected, always rejected—Sofia was as pure as the driven snow); the hearts she'd broken.
The bitch empress half-walked, half-jiggled into view—huge birthing hips, slutty makeup, gigantic braless banana-tits jolting and slinging inside a too-tight crop top—followed by two tattooed black men.
"...and this is the chick who books me for events," Sofia gestured at her. "Morgan Shittenfucker or something."
"Dieffenbacker." Morgan blushed under her scissored bangs.
"Whatever. What kind of retarded name is that, anyway?"
Sofia rudely grabbed two donuts from the box in front of Morgan, and stuffed them into her mouth. "Mmmffff! How many calories are in these?"
"Miss Gomez," Morgan assayed a professional tone as crumbs sprayed across her desk. "Can we please review next week's schedule?"
She handed Sofia the schedule. As Tiktok's queen perused it, both guys took advantage of the situation to stare down the front of her crop top.
May 1st
>11:00 - Photoshoot with Terry Richardson
>15:00 - Assorted press and interview junket
>19:00 - Casting meeting with Elite Model Management
>21:00 - The Late Late Show with Taylor Tomlinson
May 2nd
>9:30 - Charity Fundraiser for St Sophia's Children's Hospital
>11:30 - Matinee Gala for Judd Foundation
>12:30 - Dance Rehearsals
>14:30 - In-Store Appearance at Tiffany & Co
>18:00 - Grand Opening of POWERSL4VE Nightclub
"Cancel the charity fundraiser," Sofia said. "Like fuck I'm waking up for a 9:30am event. Also, hospitals are soooo depressing. What are they raising funds for?"
"Children dying of leukemia."
"Well, I'm dying of who-cares-ia. Book me for cool events only. No hospitals. Nothing lame. Quit getting loser juice over my brand."
Her eyes slid off the schedule, and onto Morgan's body. "Also, your strap's showing. No, don't fix it. Let me."
Giggling nastily, Sofia climbed onto Morgan's lap, wrapping both arms around her body like she was a living stripper pole. Her blue-nailed fingers tucked the errant bra strap back under a satin blouse...and then stayed, and began exploring her body.
Morgan quivered in anger as her boss palmed handfuls of her flesh.
Sofia Gomez was a #MeToo case waiting to happen. She had no ability to control her hands when she was even slightly drunk or high—and she was always trashed sixteen steps beyond slightly.
"Miss Gomez, please stop. This is highly inappropriate!"
Sofia leaned in further. Gigantic breasts engulfed Morgan's skull like a pair of speedbags. An ocean of warm, white titflesh swallowed half her face.
"You're kinda cute, with that hair," Sofia giggle-whispered in her ear. "I keep telling you, ditch your boyfriend and go clubbing with me. I know a dyke bar where the bathrooms have harnesses."
Morgan shuddered in rage as she was fondled. She could handle a shitty boss—she'd worked as a coffee bitch for Scott Rudin once—but she hadn't signed up for sexual harassment and groping. The two black guys just laughed at her predicament. No help from that corner.
She angrily snapped a pencil in half under her desk as the pawing hands started wandering lower.
"Hey, does that hair shade come out of a bottle?" Sofia said. "Let's find out..."
With Sofia's hands reaching for her belt, Morgan hit her limit.
"STOP! TOUCHING! ME!" She jerked upright, seized Sofia by the shoulders, and shoved her hard into the wall.
Thud! Sofia hit it, staggered forward, then shakily stood up. For a moment, she look stunned. Lost for words. Consequences? You mean actions can have consequences?
Then she balled her fists, and stomped the ground like a petulant toddler. Stamp! Stamp!
"FINE! YOU'RE FIRED, YOU PRUDE BITCH! See what I get for trying to be nice to someone!"
She swung and flounced her big ass, heading into a nearby lounge area.
"My friends and I will be in a business meeting for the next, oh, two hours. Fix next week's schedule, clean out your desk, and then fuck off!"
Seconds later, the door closed behind her. Morgan heard crude laughter, and the sound pants being unzipped in the room beyond.
* * *
Morgan ground her teeth with rage as she heard Sofia sucking their cocks.
Her head swirled with violent fantasies. Sofia, decapitated. Too painless. Sofia, torn apart by horses. Still too painless. Sofia, staked over an anthill with honey smeared over her crotch. Getting there, but what about the nerve endings in her upper body?
Sofia Gomez deserved a fate worse than death.
She deserved to suffer as nobody had ever suffered before. She deserved the most hellish torment ever devised by the inhuman mind.
This is my last day on the job. Morgan cracked her knuckles. How badly can I fuck with her?
Then she had an idea of such depravity that a smile slit her face apart like a wound. Oh...very badly.
She phoned POWERSL4VE, and informed them at Sofia Gomez would no longer be attending the club opening. Shame!
"...but...but...we contracted Miss Gomez for an appearance! We stand to lose millions! We will hold you responsible! We will—"
"Bye!" Morgan chirped brightly and hung up.
Her boss—former boss—now had the evening of May the 2nd free.
I can book her for anything I want. Morgan rubbed her hands together, mind whirring. The pilled-up slut never looks at her schedule and her driver doesn't ask questions. By the time she realizes she's at the wrong place, it'll be too late.
Morgan reached into her purse, and retrieved an advertisement that had been placed into her mailbox this morning.
>YIFFCON 2025!
>Get weady to owo and murr at the yiffiest, scritchiest, floofiest, SPOOGIEST fuwwy convention in the twi-state awea! 18+ only!
>Guests of honor TBD! Pwease contact us with inquiwies of intewest!
Through the door, she listened to Sofia's "business meeting". Obscene lewd sex-noises sweated through the walls. Moans, grunts, screams, and panting. The moist, slippery drumbeat of flesh demolishing flesh. Already, they'd progressed from oral to heavy-duty deep-dicking. Sofia's voice shrilled out urgently as her pussy was gaped like bubble-gum. "Uhh! Uhh! Uhhh! That's iitttt! Haahhhh-der!"
The squealing, bellowing voice of her former boss ripped the air like a chainsaw. Morgan's lips curved out wickedly.
"You want to be booked for cool events only, huh bitch?"
She dialled the number on the flyer, just as her ex-boss brayed out an orgasm.
"I've got your cool event right here."
* * *
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez2.jpg)
On the 2nd of May, Sofia was driving to what she believed was the grand opening of a nightclub. She was gabbing to a friend on the phone, trying to disguise the sniffles in her left nostril.
"...and then my bitch of a booking assistant shoves me into a wall, just because I told her she was pretty! Can you believe that shit?"
Leaning back, she kicked her feet up onto the front headrests, in fascinating breach of every road safety law ever conceived. Her driver grimaced as Sofia's white Skechers appeared next to his shoulders, but said nothing.
"So anyway, I need a new booking assistant, stat. Didn't you say you had a sister? Is she looking to intern somewhere? More importantly, is she hot? Send me her photos, like, right now."
She ended the call, just as she got an email from her management company. Estée Lauder Cosmetics had just signed her to be the face of a major new cosmetics launch.
Sofia fist-pumped. "Booya! Guess which bitch just made a million dollars for half an hour's work! This bitch!"
(Actually half a mil after her management company took their end of a fifty-fifty split, but her broke-dick driver wouldn't know that.)
As the car slowed in front of a convention hall, Sofia frowned, looking looking.
Her Skecher lightly kicked the driver in the side of the head. "Hey, what's the deal? Why are we stopping here?"
He looked confused. "This is your six PM booking, Miss Gomez."
Sofia's eyes narrowed in suspicion. This doesn't look like a nightclub.
They'd pulled up at a squat, nondescript convention hall, two stories high. There were no lights, no LEDs. The hand-painted banner over the door read YIFFCON 2025. That meant nothing to her.
She tried to be optimistic. They must be so exclusive they don't need to advertise. But where's the guest carpet? Where's the bouncer?
She got out of the car, taking a closer look. Beside the door was a huge pull-up banner of an anthropomorpic cartoon fox. That alone wouldn't have been suspicious. Animals were common enough nightclub decor...
...Except the fox had exaggerated bedroom eyes, was sensually twirled around a stripper pole, and the artist had put rather unnecessary emphasis on its bulging crotch.
A crowd of people were flowing through the door. They did not look like the type of people who normally go to upscale nightclubs. Or any nightclubs. Or even leave their parents' basements.
In fact, they looked like...
No. No. Sofia's eyes flew open wide at the massive amounts of faux fur on display. She wouldn't allow herself to think that thought. It might make it true. And it definitely wasn't, thank God. She was surrounded by a sea of normal people, god damn it. Normal people who just happened to all be wearing wearing paw gloves, fursuit heads, and fake tails for some normal person reason.
With a wicked smile, her driver rang the convention center, and let whoever managed this flustercuck of an event know that a VIP had arrived.
Then he began driving away.
A fat balding forty year old man hurried out the door to meet Sofia on the sidewalk. He looked like the Simpsons Comic Book Guy combined with an an off-duty Unix sysadmin. A guy who caps off a long day at the office with a nice relaxing internet flamewar about the merits of Vim vs Emacs.
"Sofia!" he squealed, rubbing his chubby hands together eagerly. She saw with horror that he was wearing a dog collar. "I'm Tony, but call me DragonBlade82!"
She tried to say something. A pathetic gurgle left her throat.
"Welcome to Yiffcon!" He grabbed her arm, and began ushering her inside. "I'll be your host for the next six hours."I have to be here for six hours? The idea filled Sofia with horror. No. Hell no.
She turned, ready to throw herself back into the car.
...it was already vanishing down the road.
She screamed in horror. "AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"Glad you're trying to learn the Yiffcon howl," DragonBlade82 said. "But it's really more of an 'ARRROOOOO!'"
* * *
DragonBlade82 ushered Sofia through the main concourse. It was packed with furries; all of them mingling, talking, flirting, yipping. Sofia didn't know which disturbed her more: the people wearing fursuits, or the people not wearing fursuits.
The thing was, they usually weren't wearing much else.
"I gotta say," DragonBlade82, "It's great to see a mainstream celebrity coming out as a furry, ya know? Between you and Wes Anderson, I think media perception is really starting to shift..."
Sofia's eyes darted around the convention hall, witnessing horrors beyond the mind of God.
Why are those two making animal noises as they kiss? Why is that man wearing a t-shirt that says 'yip if you like vulpine bussy'? Why does that dude's fursuit have a zipper on its crotch? Why am I asking questions I definitely don't want answered?
DragonBlade82 noticed her distress.
"A lot of people have...misconceptions about the furry fandom." He puffed out his chest pompously. "They think we're a bunch of disgusting perverts who fuck while dressed up as animals. This couldn't be further from the truth!"
He extended a chubby arm benevolently over his kingdom of fur.
"We are a community of artists and dreamers! There's nothing sexual about it! Oh, sure, maybe there are a few furs here and there who get a bit carried away with the lifestyle, but they do not define us. Don't believe the media. We really are the most normal group of people you could ever hope to--"
BOOM! A door was flung open, and a shirtless man charged through.
He wore an adult diaper and a horse mask with a large purple dildo glued to its forehead, like a unicorn's horn.
"SUP BROODMARES, YOUR STUD HAS ARRIVED!" he yelled over at the hall. "Call me Don Corleone, 'coz YOU'RE GONNA WAKE UP WITH A HORSE'S HEAD IN YOUR BED!"
He charged screaming down the hall, face-mounted dildo flip-flopping from side to side, and was lost to view admit yips and arrrooos from the crowd.
Sofia crossed her arms and glared.
"Well, anime has perverts too!" DragonBlade82 sulked petulantly.
* * *
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez3.jpg)
At a nametag station, he introduced her to his partners in crime.
"Sofia, this is DarkLordSloth. Our space coordinator."
"Sup," the guy was drooling out of both sides of his mouth.
DragonBlade82 clapped the other guy on the shoulder. "...And this is KitsuneFennec. Head of Yiffcon security."
"I still think we should call it 'the Yiffcon Pawlice," KitsuneFennec said.
Sofia regarded the dubious pair. DarkLordSloth was a massively tall beanpole who was now leaning into her space, awkwardly breathing on her boobs. KitsuneFennec was the least intimidating security guard she'd ever seen. A 5'2 twink with oversized pink paw gloves around his skinny wrists, he looked like he'd struggle to restrain a twelve year old girl on a sugar rush.
Sofia wanted to escape. Wanted to run and hide.
But they wouldn't let her.
DragonBlade82, KitsuneFennec, and DarkLordSloth surrounded her like a fucking entourage, giving her a guided tour of the convention hall and its horrors. All were clearly under the impression she was just delighted to be here.
"Here's the Dealer's Den!" KitsuneFennec said, pointing.
"And here's the Artist Alley," DarkLordSloth said, gesturing.
Over and over, Sofia was recognized and assailed by squealing fans. Over and over, she had to pose for photos with furries, who promptly announced their plans to post the photos on social media. "It's so brave you're coming out as furry!" A hysteric, frizzy-haired woman said. Another fur was holding her on a leash. "We're the most oppressed minority in America."
Sofia's mouth kept opening...and finding no words to say.
"Sofia, did you bring any costuming?" DarkLordSloth asked her.
"No," she admitted. She glanced down at herself. She had her hair in anime twintails, a crop top sports bra that did not fit her and was not meant to, and octopus leggings. The kind you can rip off at a moment's notice, and which don't stain. Her usual clubbing attire.
What should I have brought? A rope to hang myself?
"It's okay," KitsuneFennec said. "I think we have some spare stuff in a box over here. What's your fursona?"
"I don't know what that word means," she asked, as a box of costume parts and accessories was thrust into her face.
Collars. Tails. Masks. Bunny ears. She rifled through the inventory, trying not to imagine the outrages these pieces of felt and fur had been subjected to prior to ending up in the box. Her hands closed on cat ears on a headband. Sure. Why not. Cat ears were fairly normcore. She slid it over her black twintailed hair. And felt...strangely different. Imagine becoming an animal was this easy...
And then...her mind shifted.
As a little girl, she'd had a pet cat called Sylvester. Her mom had picked the name. She'd always found it incredibly stupid.
But Sylvester had not agreed.
He didn't know he had a name at all, let alone an uncool one. He existed beyond such concerns. Above such concerns. That was the essence of being an animal. People can cage you, trap you, kill you...but they can't make you theirs. You will always be yourself.
The cat ears felt like a crown on Sofia's head. They felt like the sundering of chains. They felt like another way.
The three guys babbled in admiration. "Holy crap, you're rocking that. Do a cat scratch!"
With unaccustomed shyness, Sofia lifted up a hand, and curled it into a paw, and scratched the air. "Rawr..." she murmured, burning with shame.
This pathetic display caused all three of them to cheer. A rush of confidence swept through her. This was a place where you could be your most embarrassing self, and not get judged for it...a place to actually become like Sylvester...
She couldn't believe she was thinking this. What's wrong with me? These people are losers. Nerds. The fact that they're breathing my air should be a felony. I AM NOT LIKE THEM.
Sofia glanced across the convention hall. There was some PDA and necking happening, but on the whole, far less debauchery than she'd expected.
"Not gonna lie," she said. "I thought a furry convention would have more...sex."
DragonBlade82 coughed. "Yes, and that's exactly the kind of offensive anti-furry stereotype I'm seeking to overcome..."
"You're not allowed to get your dick out on the convention floor because it's a public space," KitsuneFennec said flatly.
"Yeah, it's bullshit, man," DarkLordSloth sounded disgusted at this rampant anti-furry oppression. "If you want in on the furpiles and scritching, ya gotta go upstairs, where it's a private area."
DragonBlade82 glared at them. "Thanks guys. Thanks a fucking pantload. Really putting the fandom in a good light here."
Sofia marked the stairway leading upstairs like it led to the Chernobyl 4 reactor. Do not go. She shuddered, imagining what lay behind those double doors.
Just then, the doors swung open—emitting a blast of neon light like infectious pus—and a couple left. They were panting and covered in fuck-sweat. A guy, and two girls. One of the girls was on a leash, on her hands and knees. She seemed to have a tail jutting out of her asshole, held inside by a buttplug. The second woman had a handbag, and bite marks covering her body like stigmata.
"I need a shower," the standing woman griped, putting the handbag on the floor. Bottles clinked inside. She staggered in the direction of the nearest bathroom.
As soon as she was gone, Sofia covertly rifled through her handbag. It was filled with alcohol sample bottles.
Grey Goose. Soft winter wheat and Gensac springwater, distilled down to the purest poison.
Industrial grade brain cell killer.
Moving with a thief's caution, Sofia silently transferred the Grey Goose from the woman's handbag to hers. I have to be here for five more hours, and I'll need all the Dutch courage I can get.
* * *
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez4.jpg)
A fly buzzed past Morgan Dieffenbacker's ear, barely perceptible over the dry boom-tat of "Despacito" over the stereo of the tapas bar.
She was currently enjoying a long and Sofia Gomez free holiday on her boss's severance. Hey, isn't it the 2nd? she thought. The date of the furry conference.
Nursing a G&T in one hand, she ran a Socialblade search for #Yiffcon2025.
...and began howling with laughter. "Oh my god! Oh my god!
She saw photo after photo of Sofia Gomez, posing with delighted furries and looking like she wanted to kill herself. The comments were buzzing like bees on bath salts.
>lmao this cannot be real.
>are these are AI generated??
>wait, she's a furry? EWW lol.
>gentlemen, start your cringe compilations.
Sofia was dressed for the clubs. Octopus leggings, a sports bra packed with enormous mounds of breastflesh, her hair in fuck-you anime twintails. So far on the edge of style she was in danger of falling off. She was surrounded by the biggest social misfits on the planet. Four-hundred-pound basement dwellers. Women with no makeup. Men who looked like the mom dressed them. Men who probably should have let their mom dress them.
But one photo in particular was racking up massive numbers.
Sofia Gomez, holding up a drawing and pointing at it with a smile. Morgan goggled at it in awe. It was like seeing the Ark of the Covenant.
"Oh my God..."
* * *
Maybe it was the quarter of the Grey Goose bottle she'd just drunk and the line of blow she'd just inhaled, but Sofia was beginning to warm up to these furries. If nothing else, it was way easier to notice guys checking out your tits and ass when they had ten inch wolf snouts.
She caught sight of a shirtless, muscular man in a puma mask checking her out, and found herself blushing. If you wanted desperate dick, this was the place to get it. I don't. Not right now, anyway. Maybe later.
She roamed and mingled around the convention hall, full of coke energy. DragonBlade82 and his entourage of dorks struggled to keep up with her. Maybe I should have done this years ago. She thought smugly, as she posed for another selfie, flicking up her fingers in a V sign. Hang out with total losers. Like how girls can look thinner by hanging out with tubbos.
She felt like she'd blown the cool game wide open. She gazed across the hall, and saw a pudgy female artist waving at her from a pop-up stall.
RULE 34 SPEED ART! The banner over the stall said. WHILE U WAIT!
Sofia trotted over, giggling excitedly. She liked the artist's style. Big bold lines. Reds that burned like a Rothko, blues that drowned like a Frankenthaler. She wanted to see how she'd look in this chick's Copic ink.
"Draw me," she told the art chick.
DragonBlade82 coughed awkwardly, "um, Sofia, do you know what Rule 34 means?"
Sofia threw down money in front of the woman, feeling like her mind was catching fire. "Of course I know what Rule 34 means, dumbfuck! I'm a genius! I know everything in the whole damned world! Draw me.."
"Wow," the art chick was dumbfounded by the pile of Benjamins. "Okay. Um...this is a lot of money. Any special requests?"
"Go crazy," Sofia said. "This is my first furry convention, so ruin my fucking life. Blow my mind."
DarkLordSloth elbowed KitsuneFennec, murmuring "should we stop this?" KitsuneFennec looked faintly sick, but did not say anything.
Sofia posed as the chick's Copic markers zipped and flew across architecture paper. She didn't watch the drawing as it materialized. I wanna be surprised.
A group of fans had gathered to take a picture with her, just as the speed-art piece was finished..
"Here ya go!" the artist said, handing her the sheet.
In a rush of excitement, Sofia held it up, and struck a pose beside it, smiling. Fans oohed and aah'd. Phone lights popped and blinded her.
"Wow, you're so brave!" one of them said.
"Yeah, I wouldn't have the balls to let someone draw fanart of me like that."
Huh? Far too late, Sofia took a glance at the drawing she was holding up to the cameras.
She screamed, louder than she could ever remember screaming before.
The drawing depicted her, mouth open in an ahagao expression, her twintails streaming on the ground. Cerberus, the three-headed dog of the underworld, had her in a mating press. The mythical canine was vaginally and anally fucking her with three cocks. Two in the pink, one in the stink.
A wave of defilement exploded through her. "What the fuck!" Sofia shrieked at the artist. "Why would you do that? Why would you draw me like....that?!?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU FURRIES??!!"
She flung the sheet of paper away like it contained a virulent disease, and ran away, wailing like a klaxon.
The artist looked crestfallen. "I knew dog cocks are out of style this year," she whimpered to DragonBlade82. "But... that's the only thing I know how to draw!"
* * *
It took ten minutes for DragonBlade82 to rescue a traumatized Sofia from the bathroom.
"You're running late for your panel," he said, fidgeting and adjusting his shirt collar.
"I'm on a panel?" Sofia sobbed. "Since when?"
"I thought you knew! Your booking agent said you'd be cool with it! The theme is 'How To Come Out to Your Parents As Furry'".
And so she sat in a crappy folding chair, with her makeup running down her face in rivers, in an auditorium filled with two hundred nerds, all of them positively radiating self-importance.
"Someday, furrydom will be protected class, like race or religion," a fellow panelist said. "Until then, we have to hide our shine. We'll win the battle for equal rights, no matter how long it takes!"
Blah blah blah.
Sofia kept covertly checking her phone underneath the desk, watching herself get absolutely torched on social media.
The photo of her goofily smiling—while holding a drawing of herself getting DP'd by three huge dog cocks—was going viral than Ebola. It was on the front page of Reddit. She checked 4chan, and saw it six different times within a few seconds of scrolling.
A cage seemed to close around her, trapping her. What's the point? I spend years building a brand, making content, managing my image...and then this happens. I get stuck at a furry convention.
As she reflected on how just how to bring her career back from this, an email pinged onto her phone.
It was from her business address. The To: line read Estée Lauder Cosmetics
To Ms Gomez,
Dear Sofia, in light of recent events, we have regrettably decided to exercise your contract's twenty-four hour cooling off period and go in a different direction with the sponsorship. We do not feel we are the right fit at this stage. Thank you for your time, and our apologies.
The fucking Estée Lauder Cosmetics contract was nuked. Thanks to these freaks. These losers. These virgins...
Sofia quivered and quaked. Rage rolled through her like voltage through a condemned man in the electric chair. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuu
Grey Goose. You have still Grey Goose. She leaned beneath the table, and covertly took another swig. Then another. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a...
Sofia spent the panel profoundly and miserably drunk. Drunk in a way that finally seemed like seeing. The Grey Goose had seemingly opened a third eye on her forehead, and that eye was staring in stunned horror at the world she'd never imagined had existed.
Tears made her face feel itchy and tight. Her makeup felt like a prison. As she gazed around the auditorium of freaks and misfits the world around her gained a horrific,terrible, ice-sharp clarity. As cold and crystalline as the frost that kills small seedlings. Everything around her was a sick game.
Her fellow panelists blathered self-importantly about how to represent the furry lifestyle well, how to say the right things to the media, how to counter harmful furry myths—as if any of it mattered the slightest bit.
Don't you clowns get it? she thought, head swirling, attacking the Grey Goose. You are never going to be mainstream. You are never going to be respectable. To the average person, there's no difference between a person who fucks in an animal costume and a person who fucks in an animal costume while wearing a condom. You BOTH look like weirdos. It was like hearing the shortest man in the room arguing that he was actually the second shortest.
Why are you wanting respectability? Just put on your animal costumes and fuck, you disgusting perverts. This is your freedom. You can't lose, because you've already lost. I was cool, and now see where it brought me. I feel like shit.
Maybe it was better to just not play the game at all. The only thing that ever happens to a crown is that it falls off your head in the end.
Was it too late to let go? To become a hideous freak at the outskirts of society, like these furries. She sobbed. And the sob twisted around to comedy, becoming a laugh.
As she cackled louder and louder, she caught the host's attention.
"Sofia, you've been awfully quiet," he said. "Do you have anything to say?"
"Yes!" she giggled, feeling eyeliner and foundation dry stickily in her rivered tears. "The world is shit! I'm dead and in hell!"
Then she flipped over the table. Nametags and water bottles and pieces of furry accoutrement went flying. In the hushed silence that followed, she ran for the stairway upstairs, her big ass-cheeks bounced and wobbled as she took the stairs three at a time.
She was heading for the restricted area upstairs.
"...AND NOW I'M THE QUEEN OF THE FURRIES!" her voice cracked, her mind gone. "THIS ENTIRE FANDOM IS MINE TO RULE!"
KitsuneFennec tapped DarkLordSloth on the shoulder. "C'mon. Find DragonBlade82. Something bad's about to go down."
* * *
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez5.jpg)
Sofia leaped up the steps. Laughing, laughing, laughing. She seemed to float outside her body. She was ready to burn it all down, and fuck it if she burned too.
I am not the person I am, she thought, panting, in agony, full of tension that needed to release itself, just wash over everything like a scalding, unending narcississtic sea. So who am I? I don't know.
At the top of the stairs, she flung open the door.
It was like storming the gates of hell.
Debauchery. Loud, lewd, shameless debauchery. Rome in mid-bacchanal would have blushed. Piles and mounds of furries lay everywhere upon red velvet carpets and baroque-style furnishings, a Biblical gematria woven of flesh and fur and cum and spit and lube, humping, kissing, fucking, making repulsive noises. Like worms, writhing in shit. She couldn't wait to join them.
And as she walked into hell, every eye—every muzzle, every snout—turned to look at her.
With staring eyes seeming to hungrily carve trenches through her flesh, she lifted her pale hands her her crop top, and gripped the cups. Her breasts jiggled like wild pelagic seas, clasped and contained in lycra.
Clenching her teeth, she ripped the crop top off.
Sofia Gomez had tits the size and mass of her head. For a split second, the big globes seemed to improbably hang in space, defying gravity, with every candy-colored light of the room shimmering off their smooth suckable surfaces like disco balls. Then her obscenely large fuck-balloons fell down her stomach.
Smack! Smack!
Her nipples pointed toward the room of half-naked furs, settling on her stomach. Like two eyes, matching their stare.
"Fuck me." She whispered the words, but in the incipient stillness, they cleaved the quiet like black arrows.
Nobody moved.
"Fuck me." Words wriggled free, unbidden, coming from some deep and long-restrained part of her.
And she swept out her hands, giving them a clear view of her naked body. "FUCK ME!" she said, louder, deeper, fighting against the dizzying waves of drunkenness. "FUCK ME UNTIL I'M DEAD!!!"
A man stepped forward.
Tall, shirtless, and muscular, he wore a black puma mask. He'd been a wallflower. Standing in the corner, eyeing the action. And now he was eyeing her, because she was the action. She didn't care. Whatever happened now happened to a corpse, a husk, a shell, a bag of meat. Sofia Gomez had died of shame.
Something else now lived in her skin. Her new life would commence the way all life did—with a dick pounding itself into a cunt.
She slid up to him, feeling the boldness of the damned surging under her skin. She stared up into the puma's eyes. Energy discharged, like flint striking sparks against stone.
"You first," she whispered, her pulse pounding drunkenly in her eardrums.
The cheap Etsy faux-fur headgear suddenly projected feline rapacity. Here was her pet cat Sylvester returned from the grave, with thousands of years of domesticity rewound. Here was a fierce jungle animal, panting softly for her, all chemicals and adrenaline and muscle and instinct.
And it was mating season.
She lunged for him. She captured his facemask in a kiss, snaking her tongue around fur, grinding her massive breasts against his chest and her hips against his bulging cock.
"Want to know my name?" a voice asked behind the mask, smooth and low.
"I don't give a single shit what your name is." Her head plunged, and her tongue darted and wove mystic sigils across his bare chest. He shivered from her mouth, and the coldness of her drying saliva.
Then Sofia leaped up onto a card table behind her. It trembled beneath her weight, but didn't break.
"Put your cock inside me," She threw herself back onto the table, ripping off her skintight jorts and butterflying her legs out wide, Her pussy—bikini line waxed—gaped like a pink excalamation mark at the center of her body.
She hardly noticed that all the orgies in the room had broken up. The other furries were now standing in a circle, watching her get destroyed.
Heartbeat pounding like a chant, fierce and low and deep, her vision narrowed. There were two people in the room. Except even that was wrong. There were two animals.
She hitched her jiggly ass back, giving him room to climb between those legs. Ride the thighway to hell.
The shadow of the puma-masked man fell over her like a tombstone, his muscular body silhouetted by flashing lights. His hand slipped between her legs, invading her gash, squirming inside her pussy.
Obscene squelching sounds flowed deliquescent from the folds of her creaming pussy. She convulsed. She moaned. Sweat beaded and dried on her desperate flesh.
He fucked her with one finger, then two. Then he skipped the third and just shoved most of his fucking hand inside her.
"OOMFFF! GHH!" Her muscles tightened and surged with blood as he filled her. Sofia squeezed her eyes shut as her clit greedily swallowed his digits. Shiny vaginal fluid squelched and bubbled around his knuckles, where they entered her pussy.
Rocking back and forth on the table, breasts swaying atop her chest, gripping the edges with both hands to keep from falling off...
...she hardly noticed when the hand was replaced with his dick.
She opened her eyes just a crack, letting in a storm of violescent light like photonic vomit.
Between her legs, a big slippery shaft driving through her with a quickness. Her vaginal folds rippled and contracted as she was railed by his surging cock. In. Out. In. Out.
A crowd of furries surrounded her. A congregation of the damned, watching her get fucked atop a $10 card table. They no longer looked ridiculous. They looked hungry, like they'd finally merged with the creatures they portended to be. Dogs. Wolves. Cats. Tigers. Dragons.
As every nerve of her throbbing genitals thundered in sinful clamor, the room dissolved into a wash of alien shapes. Foreign and ambiguous. Just raging sheets of dark folded around the strobing LED lights.
Am I dreaming? Sofia saw fangs elongate from beneath muzzles, saw ears twitching and flicking with far more articulation than any fursuit, however expensive, could allow, saw glinting claws curving out from the pads of paws. If I'm not, I'm about to be torn apart.
Venomous eyes glowed in the shallows of masks, staring ravenously at her stacked, fuckable body. Just animals. Loveless strays who had never been given anything in life, and had now decided to take it by forth.
As her cunt got viciously fucked, the circle drew closer. Hands reached out, groping her, tugging at handfuls of her hips and ass and thighs. Exploring her curvaceous topography.
Sofia bellowed pleasure, drool flowing from her mouth. Fluid gushed from her hot wet pussy as it constricted around the dick inside her. The paws savaging her sweaty shoulders and breasts made her feel like she was drowning, losing herself in their collective lust for her. Desire, and desired. Lust and lusted-over. Fucked and fucker. Furry a deux. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. With heat.
Gasping, the puma masked man drove and skewered his thick pulsating cock forward, shafting his length into her twat. It made slurping, squirting noises, adjusting to his size like a glove stretching around a hand. He was big and he was ready and he was hard and he was enough. His massive pole pumped in and out, blasting her wide open, driving agonizing pleasure through the cracks of her broken mind.
Funny...ugh... her knuckles whitened as she tried to stop herself being flung off the table by his brutal, deep fucking. I thought cats had barbs on their dicks.
Each hump threw her a little more forward, gliding on a river of her own sweat and squirt.
Then his paw snaked out, catching the curve of her face. She stared up in primal horror. A chill crashed through her.
The face was beyond monstrous. Black lines of feline rage hummed and oscillated, swirling under fur that was like a fissure of jagged splinters. His jowls and whiskers shivered. Hate and hunger dwelled deep in both eyes.
"Fuck, you're hot," the black velvet snarl of the mask seemed to deepen his words to a cat's purr.
"Get ready, bitch," He put his face against hers. The growl chased a free-falling feeling through her bones.
"I'm gonna break this table and BREAK YOU, you big-titted slutwhore!"
PLAP! PLAP! SLAP!
She had never experienced anything like this. Not even close. "BLUAGHHH!" Her mouth drunkenly unhinged, and her tongue spilled ot like a worm. Her eyes felt thick and heavily lidded. His cock burrowed in and out, suddenly feeling twice the size, breaking her apart.
PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! Her gigantic boobs sloshed back and forth, rocking heavily with his thrusts. His cunt-seeking slams nearly flung them into her face like ballast balloons. He gripped her tits like pincers. They overflowed his long fingers, almost engulfing his hands in flesh. Her nipples pulsed against the palms of his hands like athlete's tickers.
Then he buried his cock balls-deep inside her pussy. She squealed as her flesh contracted around him, her engorged pussy finally exploding with pleasure. Her urethral duct yawned in orgasm, pulsing scalding squirt over the huge cock and balls socketed between her gaping hips.
"AHHH! AHHHH! UGHHHH!" Sofia's sloppy whorehole spasmed and convulsed, showering the man in sprays of cum. The fluid, squelching sounds of her erupting pussy seemed deafening. An explosion sutured to her cunt.
"You're mine," the man in the puma mask growled through the rain of her juices, grabbing her ass and pulling her close. "There's no escape. All roads lead back to me. Back to this."
Sofia howled in uncontrollable release and desire, gushing her cum, bucking against his cock. Her mind was so consummated by her throbbing, exploding slit that she hardly heard jeans unzipping.
Then another cock flopped onto her face, hard and rapidly getting harder.
"Suck," a ghostly shadow-voice commanded from the edge of her awareness. As she plummeted back to Earth from her first orgasm, she complied, wrapping her perfect bitch-princess lips around his erection, probing its irregularities with her swirling tongue.
The cock face-fucking her wasn't as huge as the one ripping apart her cunt, but it was equally terrifying, because it threatened to plunge down her throat, taking away her oxygen.
She felt blood rushing into it, felt his heartbeat as closely as she felt her own as it scorched its cadence through her dendrites. Each shluck and shlurp thickened it, fattened it, made it more, more, more.
Sofia sucked cock at one end and fucked cock at the other. Two locii of need, with her like a chain swinging between their bodies.
"Please don't kill me..." she begged, the words incomprehensibly and distorted by the dick she was gargling. His slick cock popped out, shooting a strand of pre-cum over her breasts, and the man's balls plopped into her mouth. She wrapped her lips around them, sucking his scrotum like a pacifier, rapidly collapsing in mental age to preschooler and below.
And then a third man climbed atop the table, straddling her chest. She felt his hips encircle her stomach, and his erection jut ike a flagpole between her cleavage. It was hot and throbbing and hard. He gripped palmfuls of her almighty breasts, spat between them, and began titfucking her cleavage.
PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
"HAUUHHGHH!!!" Sofia didn't even understand what she was trying to say at this point.
She slobbered pathetically, strands of drool flowing from her mouth and down her chin. One cock pumped into the wet gash of her mouth, the second railed her huge tits, the third gutted her like a pig. As moans and pumping and slurping hung in the air with the thickness of gathering thunder. It became hard to tell whose was whose. It was just sound, undiluted and indifferentiated. Perhaps the same cosmic noise that had flooded the universe at instance of creation. Nobody made it. It fashioned itself. The sparks flying from the razor edge of biology's endless and uncaring math.
Three cocks. One body. Solve for XXX.
"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" she shrieked, her hips bucking wildly as her orgasm approached. "Fuck you you fucking furry piece of filth!"
The puma-masked man was jackhammering her right into his own orgasm. Sofia's huge tits bounced with every thrust, her nipples so hard they almost engraved her signature on the air as they whirled and spun. He gripped her huge ass, lifted up her writhing hips, and impaled himself as deep as he could go with six or seven hard, sharp jabs. Her cunt walls gripped him like a velvet fist as her cervix squeezed against him. The rapid pressure overstimulated her, and she spasmed helplessly with a second climax. Her wildly vibrating pussy overwhelmed him, strangling out his load.
"Oh fuck yes!" he snarled, cum exploding up from his balls like a cobra uncoiling to strike. The first jet tore out of his cock. The second chased it. Then the floodgates burst open.
Bellowing, he pulsed huge, fertile ropes into Sofia Gomez. Cum splattered into her cunt, looping and crashing in her secret depths like ribbons of plasm. His sloshing, porridge-thick genetic data filled her womb to overflowing, and soon he was fucking his cock through a rising ocean of ejaculate.
Her orgasming pussy fluttered around his cock. With a final, bone-jarring thrust he buried himself inside her like a root, and remained there with his cock pulsing and spurting the last of his sperm.
"YESHH! YESHHH! UGHGHGH!" still with a dick in her mouth, Sofia wrapped her thick sweaty legs around his waist, sucking him closer and closer. Her breasts frantically cannonballed around the cock between them, nipples sweeping through the wet musky air.
"Cumming!" yelled a voice from behind her. Sperm flooded into her mouth until it overflowed, running to the card table. Soon, her twin-tails were soaking in his emissions. His cock popped free, and he slapped her in the face.
WHAP!
The man titfucking her said nothing. He just gasped, his hands tensed around her boobs, and his ass clenched hard.
Rivers of cum splattered out in loops that flooded her stomach and belly button. "Uhh!" he grunted. "UHHH! YEAHHHH!"
One orgasm crashing into another, Sofia howled until the walls shook, cried until her eyes blurred with tears...and then liquid that wasn't tears. Cum was flying out onto her in thick graffiti-like sprays from the crowd.
"FUCK YES!" Sofia screamed, her body convulsing with the force of freedom. "MY CAREER IS FUCKING DEAD AND I LOVE IT!"
And then the card table collapsed.
They all plunged down on top of each other. A mountain of sweaty bodies with Sofia at the bottom.
Sofia's smile slit open across her face as she felt the three spent men get pulled off her, and new men take their place.
They rolled her back onto her back and spread her legs wide. Her cum-splattered body was mounted in three places, and the seeding continued.
As cocks fucked her and ejaculated, fucked hre and ejaculated, her eyes dreamed starrily of a black cat on a fence...a black cat without a care in the world.,,
Sylvester, licking his paw, running the paw over his whiskers...staring at her...
* * *
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez9.jpg)
It took DarkLordSloth and KitsuneFennec over ten minutes to track down DragonBlade82. They told him Sofia had gone to the restricted area, and then dashed upstairs to try and save her.
Dragonblade82 tried to follow them, but someone blocked his path.
"Yo. Are you DragonBlade82?"
It was a 'scaley', in half-body cutoffs designed to look like dragonscales. The guy blocked his path, arms crossed pugnaciously.
"That's me," DragonBlade82 to shove past the man to rescue Sofia. "Sorry to be rude, but I really got a place to be right nowe!"
"I read your posts on Stack Overflow. Normally I agree with you, but you crossed a line that other day. FFMPEG shouldn't use jpeg as a default output. Stop living in the nineties. The WEBP and AVIF formats offer much better compression ratios and a more robust alpha channel."
DragonBlade82 scowled.
"They're not well supported, though. If the user needs to install special dependencies on their distro, that more than negates any performance advantage you might gain. Cart before the horse."
The guy's voice became petulant. "You sound like Linus Torvalds right now. Technology moves on, man. If we'd had your thinking twenty years ago, we'd still be using TIFF. It's lazy, conservative practices like yours that are holding the Linux kernel in the stone age."
DragonBlade82 shuddered, visibly tried to restrain himself. and then exploded in righteous nerd fury.
"AVIF AND WEBP ARE NOT REAL FILE FORMATS!" his pudgy jowls wobbled as he yelled. "THEY CAN BE ANIMATED OR STATIC, AND YOU CAN'T TELL WITHOUT CHECKING THE HEADER WITH IMAGEMAGICK OR SOMETHING, AND AGAIN, THERE GOES YOUR PERF BOOST! STOP BEING PENNY WISE AND POUND FOOLISH!"
"Well, you're not considering..."
They argued back and forth, with Sofia's fate forgotten. By the time DragonBlade82 made it up the stairs, a substantial amount of time had elapsed. Hopefully DarkLordSloth and KitsuneFennec got the sitch under control.
Then he pushed open the door and groaned.
They had not.
It was total chaos. An entire roomful of furs were simultaneously humping and trying to hump a semi-conscious woman, who lay on the ground, howling drunkenly.
"Fuuuck meeee...." Sofia Gomez argle-bargled. "Kiiiilll meeee....!"
Where did DarkLordSLoth and KitsuneFennec go? he wondered, before a second glance told him the answer.
They were fucking Sofia Gomez too.
* * *
Sofia gurgled desperately as yet another penis corkscrewed all the way to the back of her vagina. She couldn't even tell if it was the same one that had been inside her five seconds previously. They were all blurring together in her mind, like cars smashing together in the HOV lane of her slack drooling cunt.
She plunged into an obscene squat into the latest man's lap, filling herself with his slippery length. Her thighs and ass jiggled frantically as she humped his meat to completion. He blew his load inside her, howling in release.
She popped off his cock. As she lifted up her legs, his dick exploded out of her channel, catapulting into the air. The steaming organ jetted a final rope of cum that splattered into her belly button like a signature. Sofia cawwed pathetically, staggered a few steps, then fell again. All around her, fights broke out over who would be the next one to screw her.
"FUWWIES!" she singsonged fractured baby talk. "I...IS...YERRR...KWEEEEEEEEN!!!"
How many men had she just fucked? Twelve? Fourteen? Sixteen? She seemed to be transforming into an animal herself,. She crawled on all fours like a dog, leaving nearly a dozen loads of sperm trailing out of her cunt, her fat ass cheeks bruised and scratched and bitten. Her titanic breasts swung underneath her like cow udders, the nipples dragging paths through the bodily fluids drenching the carpet.
"I'M THE QUEEN OF THE FUWWY FANDOM" she gibbered, in the moments when she didn't have someone's dick in her mouth.
More cocks. More cocks. More cocks. The black chant thudded in the recesses of her mind. Being fucked and bred and screwed into oblivion was all she could think about.
The slanting explosion of her assflesh and the bulging protrusion of her tits attracted groping hands like magnets. They scooped up handfuls of ivory flesh and made it jiggle, slosh, and spill.
Their toy. The doll. Their property. Cocks jabbed into her skin, into her face, into every hole she had that would accomodate one and even some that wouldn't. They tried to shove dicks up her nostrils, into her ears, into her armpits. Many had clearly never fucked a woman before, and this strangely turned them into unpredictable forces of chaos. Sofia's heart hammered through her cunt, the room spinning. Everything was happening at once. Nothing was happening. She'd lost it all. Gained it all.
Her immense fuck-jugs gleamed with sweat and sperm. The heat of her body gushed out like a disease. Her yawning, lust-driven mouth babbled and shrieked.
"UHHH! AHHH! I'M THE FUCKING BOSS OF THIS WHOLE GODDAMN CONVENTION AND UHHH....!"
She collapsed into a furry void, and the void fucked her into oneness with itself. Her mouth. Her cunt. Her ass. Swelling male organs pierced all three holes at once. They turned her into a human bowling ball, spinning around with her at the center, and a dozen more furs standing at the sidelines, jerking off.
She briefly glimpsed DragonBlade82 trying to get through to her. But the furries were holding him at bay.
"THIS DOES NOT REPRESENT THE FANDOM IN A GOOD LIGHT!" he yelled. "I DEMAND YOU ALL STOP, RIGHT NOW!"
But furs barred him from getting to her.
"Back off, man. There's nothing you can do here."
Sofia lay transfixed between them, wracked by orgasm after orgasm. Sweat and cum flowed down her face. Huge heavy balls plapped into her eyes as her face was fucked. Her legs were twisted open, her gaping pussy filled and emptied and filled and empited. Over and over, furries mounted her, fucked her, and seeded her, and bred her, and when she finally passed from light to dark, she was the last to know it. A phone battery going from 1% to 0%, and then to darkness.
The final fur exhausted himself inside her body, and pulled out.
Then the roomful of partiers stood in the destroyed suite, looking down at Sofia Gomez's body. They looked stunned by what had happened. They were no more capable of words than she was.
She lay spreadeagled out, a wild smile on her face. The smile of someone who has finally come home.
Someone started snapping photos of Sofia Gomez naked.
Immediately, angry furs rounded on him, snarling in condemnation.
"Yo, not cool. Delete those."
"She didn't give permission for you to photograph her, man."
"Yeah! Consent matters!"
Shamefacedly, the fur deleted the photos.
Rays of sunlight were filtering through the windows of the convention suite. Somehow, they'd fucked the entire night away. Gradually, the partiers filtered away from the scene, unable to make contact even behind animal masks.
As it became clear that the last person in the room would be responsible for cleaning it, the slow exodus became a flood.
Finally, DragonBlade82 stood alone in the trashed suite, calculating how much of his security deposit he was going to lose from it. He felt like the last soul paroled from hell, standing over the sperm, sweat, and vomit-covered body of the woman he'd been supposed to protect.
We really need a furry convention where nobody's allowed to fuck, he thought, shaking his head ruefully.
Then he remembered that he'd actually hosted one once. All of five people had shown up, one of whom had been his mom.
At least she looks like she had fun. And she has every reason in the world to deny this ever happened, he thought. Maybe I can crawl out from under this.
Her hair had burst out of its pigtails, and was trailed everywhere like a black halo, soaking into any number of chemical substances and bodily fluids. Her mouth hung open vacantly—no longer smiling, but just open. A FUCK ME invitation that lasted for all eternity.
Behind her sightless stare lay the void. Her eyes lolled glasslike, beneath slitted and fluttering eyelids. She looked unconscious and hyperconscious at the same time. A person finally living for the first time, and not even awake to know it.
He had to admit, she was fucking hot.
He looked around, and confirmed that he was alone. Whistling, he pulled down his pants, let his cock pop free, and mounted her. Her perspiration-slathered asscheeks wobbled like blubber as he spiked himself into her cunt.
I'm finally getting laid, at the age of 43. Better late than never. Wait tilll the guys at StackOverflow hear about this...
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez7.jpg)
* * *
Three weeks later, Morgan Dieffenbacker was working as a publicist for an indie rock band.
She still checked Sofia Gomez's socials on the daily. Probably not the best idea, to let her old boss live rent-free in her head. But strangely, it went beyond mere hate-watching.
She...felt bad for Sofia Gomez? Kinda? Almost?
Enjoying Sofia's fall from grace was proving far harder than it should have been. Every time the former queen bee posted somethng—mostly abstract, allusive poetry relating to a black cat, for whatever reason—her comments fille with hate and bile. People calling her a furry freak. Telling her to go yiff in hell. Posting photoshopped images of that picture.
Morgan should have been the first to lead the chorus...but she couldn't.
She found herself hating these nameless strangers instead, lining up to kick a person whom they judged safe to kick.
None of you are better than she is, she thought, fuming sullenly. You're all bullies. Every last one of you.
Sofia had already hired a new booking manager. The new girl had phoned her, asking for help with some administrative crap. Hey, what's the password for so and so? That type of thing.
"...Also," the girl sounded shy. "Do you have any advice for me? I hear Sofia's a demanding boss."
Morgan had laughed. "My advice to you is to buy a slide protractor, and learn where the exit is in the building. so you can walk out in the most efficient manner possible. Quit now. That's my advice. Nobody lasts long with her. She's horrible."
But strangely, the last time she'd spoken to the new girl, a different story had emerged..
"I'm doing okay, I think," the girl said. "Based on what you said, I expected Sofia would be this mega bitch. But she's actually really nice to me."
"Sofia?" Morgan crinkled her nose. "Nice? What the hell am I hearing? Is it 'tell the opposite of the truth' day or something"
"She's kind. Respectful. Maybe you just got on her bad side once or twice."
Morgan scoffed. "Every side is her bad side."
The girl waxed philosophical. "Well, maybe you never really knew her. Maybe the person you hated was never really her, but a mask over her true self."
"That's how it works," Morgan said. "Every asshole thinks of themselves as a good guy under the surface. It's bullcrap—our outward behavior is our true self!"
"Sofia's outward behavior to me is lovely. So what does that mean?"
* * *
The following message was posted on Sofia Gomez's instagram on the 10/5.
>Life. No one survives it. But sometimes another person survives it, living in your body. And often they're a better person than you ever were. They have to be. Only in the death of the old can we be reborn as someone young.
>A few weeks ago, I stood in a room of phonies and fakes, and had the realization that I was the fakest one there. Coolness was my prison. Everything I did or said was just an act. I never did anything because I wanted to, but because I was expected to. Maybe there's this Buddhist sense where there's no person inside us except for the facade we project—but in that case, aren't we free? What could be more open to possibilities than a vacuum? I can choose whatever substance I like to fill my inner nothing. I can literally be anymore I want her to be.
>I made a decision a while ago: Sofia Gomez would be someone nice. It was easy. I just needed to be brought to the point where I knew that re-imagining myself was both necessary and posible.
>We are constantly losing things. Old ideas. Old identities. A caterpillar dies so a butterfly can live. Toenail clippings. Hair. No part of us last forever. Except perhaps for memories. Memories, and love. I am glad that I see all this now, even though I found it in a place I would have never expected to.
>On a less prosaic note, I CAN'T WAIT for Yiffcon 2026!
The attached picture showed a disheveled but smiling girl, fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a towel.
She was sitting next to DragonBlade82, DarkLordSloth, KitsuneFennec, and the rest of her new furry friends.
END
(https://herabhorredshea.rs/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/sofiagomez6.jpg)