Scott had been waiting for this day for a long time. From the moment he had made his duct-tape dummy a year ago, he had been eagerly awaiting this package to turn up. Now that it was here, he almost didn’t want to open it just so he could prolong the anticipation. Of course, that resolve didn’t last too long at all, and within minutes he was tearing into the box, stripping away the packaging tape with a set of keys.

Inside the box, within the packing peanuts and bubble wrap, was a flash of brown fur. Practically squeezing with delight, he slowly pulled the new fursuit out from the box. The head was first; wide toony eyes staring at him. It looked perfect – exactly how he had requested it. The markings were just right, and there was that mischievous expression captured exquisitely. And unlike some makers, whose suits all looked like some kind of dog, this was clearly a weasel.

Resisting the temptation to put the head on right away, Scott reluctantly put it to the side and started to pull out the body. He had been torn between a realistic and toony suit before ordering it, but now that it was here, he was so glad he had chosen the toony option. He didn’t even had to put it on to see that the drop-crotch body would look amazing on him, and the big poofy paws were so soft and delightful.

He had thought the box would be empty, but there was something else in there, amongst all the packaging and protection. He reached in a rummaged around, losing sight of the small flash of bright material. Finally he found it, pulling out what looked like a small charm. It must have fallen in when the suit was being packed. He took a mental note to contact the maker to let them know, in case it was something important. For now though, Scott had more important things to worry about. He placed the charm down and put it out of mind.

Leaving the suit alone for a few minutes, he stripped out of his clothes and put on the spandex undersuit he’d bought a few days earlier. He had been trying it on a lot, making sure he got used to its tight fit before getting the fursuit. It almost felt like a second skin to him already, like he wouldn’t be properly clothed until he was wearing his fursuit.

Seeing the weasel staring back at him was such a surreal experience for Scott as he returned to his living room. He grinned back at the fursuit head. Soon he would be looking out through those eyes. Friends would be coming around later to see his new suit. He couldn’t wait that long.

Sitting back on the sofa, he pulled the body towards him. Most of it was all one piece, with the torso, arms, and legs all attached. Only the hands, paws, tail, and head were detached. A zip ran down the back of the suit, providing Scott his point of entry.

The inside of the suit was so soft as it clung around his legs. It was no effort at all to slip his legs in, one then the other. No more difficult than putting on a pair of trousers. He couldn’t help but grin. The suit maker had clearly been incredibly talented, using the duct-tape dummy to perfection with his dimensions.

Getting back to his feet and hitching the torso up, he belted the tail around his waist and slipped it through the discreet hole at the back of the suit. He could feel some of the loose suit’s weight settle around his waist as it pulled down on the tail, but once his arms were in the suit that weight would be reduced. There was plenty of padding around his legs and crotch, keeping the suit secure and sturdy around the drop-crotch area, and giving the illusion of a longer torso, just like his weasel-sona should possess.

His arms were next, and they were as easy and comfortable as his legs. The zip on his back was a little difficult, having to make sure the metallic teeth didn’t catch any fur as he slowly did it up. Finally it was done though, and the fur just seemed to envelop the zipper track, as though it didn’t even exist anymore. He ran a finger along its length, making sure everything was smoothed out.

Before reaching for his paws, he paused to admire himself in the mirror. His bare skin looked funny with the thick fur over the rest of his body. Time to change that.

The footpaws were first. As he had chosen a toony style, the paws were big, soft, and very thick. Three big, exaggerated toes adorned the foot, as well as a cushioned pad on the underside. Taking care not to sit on his tail, Scott flopped back onto the couch and reached for his footpaws. First the left, then the right slipped on with ease, the cushioned padding warmly wrapping around his feet. He smoothed over the fur, making sure it blended nicely in to his legs, before wiggling his toes. It made little movement at all on the fursuit’s paws.

Jumping up to his feet, Scott looked down at the last few pieces. Like his footpaws, the hands were toony and exaggerated, with just three thick fingers that would leave him with fairly little dexterity. It would be better to put the head on first, then deal with the hands.

As he put the head on, he was glad of doing it in that order. He needed his hands to position the head correctly, and then to tuck in the extra flap of neck fur to ensure the head blended in nicely to the torso. His vision was surprisingly good, with a reasonable range of vision through the soft gauze in the suit’s eyes. Staring into the mirror, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, the suit’s mouth matching his movements.

Finally it was time to complete the set, but there was one last thing Scott needed to do before slipping his hands on. He had already set up a camera before unboxing the suit, but now he just needed to make sure it was turned on, and he had his remote clicker accessible so he could take plenty of pictures of his new suit.

Then, finally, he was ready. The left hand was easier to put on, having his free right available to pull the paw on and smooth over the fur. The right was more difficult, with very little dexterity remaining, but a couple of minutes of grunting struggle and it was done. He was complete. Finally, he was his weasel.

Prancing around, it didn’t take Scott long to get into the character he had created for his fursona. Bright, bubbly, and always moving, he was practically dancing around the room as he enjoyed the feeling of the suit tightly embracing his body. It felt better than he could ever have asked for. He made sure to take a few pictures as well, posing in front of the camera and clicking the remote in his paws over and over again. His jaw hurt from grinning so much. He simply couldn’t wait to show off to his friends. He was the last of them to get a fursuit, and some of them would be bringing theirs along, but Scott couldn’t help but think that his was the best of them all.

He was just about to look up at the clock to see how much longer he had before his friends turned up, when he felt a catch of pain at the back of his neck. It felt like something was pricking into his skin. He gritted his teeth and carefully sat down, before reaching up with his paws. It felt like something hard and metallic. He frowned, trying to think what it could be, before he remembered the small charm. It must have gotten caught up in the fur as he was putting the suit on.

Shaking his head, he tried to dislodge the charm, but it only felt like it was digging in further and further to his neck. It could even have been drawing blood. Reluctantly, he knew he’d have to unzip the suit to get it out.

Pressing his paw against the back of his neck, Scott fumbled around for the zip, but he couldn’t find it. He stroked his hand around, but could only feel fur. No sign of the zipper or its track. Putting it down to just his clumsy paws, he kept rubbing and searching for that little piece of metal. Still nothing. And what was more, the pain from the charm had gone away too.

Then Scott realised the easy solution. Laughing to himself, he looked down at his handpaws and struggled to remove the right one. It didn’t come off. He couldn’t find the seam between hand and wrist. Again, just fur.

“Dammit,” Scott muttered. That was the problem with a toon suit, he presumed. No grip at all. At least the pain from the charm had gone away. It must have been dislodged in his struggles. He’d just have to get one of his friends to help him find it again later. For now he could just...

Scott’s vision swam. He closed his eyes as a sudden dizzy spell washed over him. He fell to his knees, putting his handpaws out to balance. He hadn’t felt too hot, so he didn’t think he was suffering from heat exhaustion. He had the ceiling fan on, and the room was fairly cool. For a moment he felt like he was about to throw up and, not wanting to damage his new suit, he tried to pull the head off. Once again though, it was completely stuck. It felt like he was pulling on his own head, jerking his neck.

The nausea passed, and Scott slowly opened his eyes. His vision seemed... different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Slowly he got back up to his feet, feeling a little unsteady. His body felt... soft. He couldn’t really explain what it was, but something was definitely not right. Once more he tried to reach for the zip, but again he felt nothing but fur against his thick, padded fingers.

His fingers.

Scott stared down at his handpaws, clenching his fingers and wiggling them. He could feel them as though they were his own. He looked up and stared into the full-body mirror. His tail, which had before been hanging down behind him, seemed to be swishing languidly from side to side, even though he wasn’t moving. And his eyes... there was no gauze in his vision now.

There was no zipper because Scott the human was no longer inside his fursuit. Scott was the fursuit. His big, toonish eyes looked shocked as he slowly approached the mirror and placed his handpaw on the reflective glass. He could feel the cool, hard surface against his soft paw.

What was he going to do about this?

Before he could decide, a loud noise dragged Scott out of his dazed reverie. The doorbell was ringing.

His friends were here.