FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

When most people in the world wanted to get into a different professional field, they went to college or a technical school, in the hopes of furthering their education, or learning more about the field of their choice.

"That's it, big guy...relax...don't go kicking now or anything."

Then again, there were always the kind of people who preferred a more hands-on approach, regardless of how legal that approach might be. There were also some professional fields that were a little bit embarrassing to ask about, and plenty of people would rather do their own, personal research than actually go and take a class, and have to admit what they were interested in.

People interested in becoming breeders often fell into such a distinction.

"Just hold still, buddy. I promise, you'll be happy I stopped by before this night is over," a man whispered in the dark, as the stroke the broad, muscled side of a horse. Hidden in the guise of the night and confident that he hadn't been spotted, Ron Layton had been interested for a number of years in becoming an animal breeder, but he had a lot of unanswered questions. He was always the type who people would describe as being a little too comfortable with animals, but in his mind, he didn't see anything wrong with the way he behaved around critters of all kinds.

He thought that he just had a natural, deeper connection with them, and it only felt fitting that he would be in a field that included making animals happy and comfortable. His methods to reach such ends, however, were far beyond what an ordinary person would defend.

If one was interested, there were certainly channels through which they could learn about how to get into breeding animals, what kind of facilities they would need, and what kind of investment was required to start such a business. Ron, however felt it was a better idea to sneak onto a farm in the dead of the night, set up a small milking rig, and get a sample of what he needed to start his business, right from the source.

From the start, it wasn't going quite as well as he'd hoped.

Horses were easy animals to startle, and Ron was only lucky that he hadn't been kicked right into the wall when he broke into the barn. The horse still did buck and bray just a little bit, but with a few gentle, soothing strokes to the side of the majestic beast, Ron was able to calm it down enough to move forward with his plan. It was obvious that the creature could sense just how uneasy he'd become, however, as it still refused to hold completely still for him to hook up the milking rig, something that was essential to the business moving forward, or at least, he foolishly believed so.

He carried a few large, long glass tubes with him to collect the sample, knowing just how voluminous the yield of a horse could be, but he wasn't planning on that being any sort of a problem. After all, Ron had done his research on the topic, and seen just what could be unleashed when a male horse was driven to a climax. The very sight of it was enough to excite Ron in a way that he wasn't sure he should enjoy, but he merely chalked that up to his general love of animals, and figured that seeing them in a state of pleasure and enjoyment was a logical following.

Whether the horse that he now brushed with the flat of his open palm would actually feel pleasure, Ron couldn't be sure. He could only reference the videos that he watched, as he pulled a small tube from his back pocket and began to spray the contents inside of a long, hollow tube. It was made of a soft, pliable material, akin to soft foam, that would be safe to touch to the genitals of the horse, and the lubrication inside would make sure that the horse wouldn't hold out on Ron as he worked it up to ejaculating. The entire experience felt lewd in a way that was hard for Ron to describe, but he tried to put the future of his business at the forefront of all of his endeavors, usually for the sake of his own personal comfort.

This time around, comforting himself wouldn't quite be enough.

"O-okay, big guy...reeeeeeelax," Ron drawled out slowly, though the words could just as easily have applied to him. The barn that the horses were stored in was a decent distance from the farmhouse that Ron crept past, but that didn't mean that he wanted the horse making any noise. He wanted the entire operation to be as quiet and smooth as possible, and if there were any chance that he could escape with a sample and no detection, he'd have to take it. He wrapped nitrile gloves around his fingers as he took a grip of the outside of the long, lubricated masturbating sleeve, not wanting to leave any sort of a trace that the police could track if there were an investigation, and finally, he began probing his hand around between the legs of the gentle giant, searching for the most sacred part of the equine's body.

Ron was a novice in the field, and equally inexperienced in the arousal of animals, despite his curiosity about it. He didn't know that it would have been smarter to go in without the gloves first, but luck was on his side, as he felt a girth in his palms that almost immediately made him feel inadequate, and that was only feeling the length of the animal in a flaccid state. There was no sign of arousal about the horse, but Ron was cautious, keeping his palm flat against the warm, smooth flesh against his glove, doing his best not to startle the tall, silent creature.

No doubt, it felt something, as it gave an immediate and sensitive jump from the touch, and a quick, quiet whinny in response to the rather forward advance. Ron froze up and hesitated, but when there were no further sounds, he let out a quick sigh of relief. He knew that he was rushing the process, but the fact was that the situation didn't allow him the luxury of patience. He wanted to set down the sleeve and stroke the flank of the horse a few more times, and perhaps even stand and chat with the nameless beast for a little longer before he went to work, but the moment that he could feel the soft, smooth flesh on his hand begin to grow, he knew that he wouldn't have a better chance than the one that was now right in front of him.

"You're being an awfully good sport about this, big guy. I just need you to hold still for a moment," Ron said, his voice treating the order rather delicately as he tried to align the masturbating sleeve with the flared tip of the horse's growing cock. He found it a difficult task, however, as the impressive flow of blood that flew into the growing organ actually made it rapidly bounce up and down as it neared a full erection. The tip bobbed and weaved up and down as more essence spilled into it, and Ron nearly became frustrated as each time he tried to nab the flare with the end of the sleeve, it bounced away again, though the horse could do little to control it.

It was all too likely that the horse was used to this kind of treatment, given how quickly his member was responding to the task, but it was more than Ron had planned for. He grunted with frustration as he continued to miss, and finally, he gripped the very base of the cock, holding it as steady as he could, while his other hand held onto the wide sleeve precariously, and began to force it over the impressively wide flare of the beast.

The grunt from above made Ron stiffen up again, as he had to use both hands to force the sleeve over the very tip of the length. Inadequacy couldn't describe how Ron felt as he was forced to look over a simply overwhelming rod of flesh, and use both of his tightly gripping palms to drive the masturbating sleeve back onto the base.

This time, the horse couldn't hold still. It was used to having a sled or a bench to jump upon to simulate mounting a female, but there was nothing there for it, and Ron's arm wouldn't have been nearly able to support the weight of the creature. The horse tried bucking its front legs against the walls of the small barn, but only managed to lift itself enough to drive a few cheap, short thrusts into the sleeve.

Short as they were, their force was more than enough to knock Ron over. "S-shit! Calm down, big guy!" he cried out as he fell to the dirty, dusty floor of the barn, kicking up bits of hay and forcing himself to cover his own face as he tried not to sneeze. The horse continued to buck above him, and the sleeve was gripping around the massive, wide shaft of the beast so perfectly that even without Ron there to manipulate the device into feeling like a proper female equine, it seemed that Ron would receive his sample, either way.

It would have been much easier for him to retrieve it, as well, if he hadn't shattered the glass tube used to carry the sample when he fell on his side. He hadn't even noticed the small trickle of blood running down his leg from the glass stabbing into his leg, but his shorts did just enough to keep him from garnering a rather serious wound. It was little more than skin deep, but it would leave the kind of DNA evidence that would be nearly impossible for him to remove, given his limited supplies and knowledge.

Ron was already throwing himself into a panic when he wondered just how his evening could get any worse, and from above, he heard a long, thick grunt, and saw the large urethra on the end of the flare begin to widen.

"...F-fuck me..."

The disappointed grumble came just in time. Ron managed to close his mouth and his eyes right before a hailing torrent of thick, virile cum sprayed across his face and his neck, completely soaking them. Without something to hold the horse steady, his hind legs bucked as the rest of his body went rigid, and his seed continued to pour down over Ron, who found himself nearly bathing in the vast quantities of it. Sticky and white, the mess spilled over his shirt and his shorts, covering him in slowly oozing webs that spilled down to the floor and left him painted with all of the evidence that anyone would ever need to know that he'd committed a seriously criminal act, that night. Embarrassing as it was to be soaked in such a way, there was still a quick sting in Ron's leg, as some of the plentiful cum poured down over the small wound on his leg...and seeped in, under his flesh.

Flicking as much of the mess away that he could, Ron used whatever parts of his shirt were dry to wipe his eyes off. He tried to avoid opening his mouth, knowing just how much of the thick, dripping seed would still be resting on his lips, but there wasn't much of anything left for him to dry his face with. He was still shuddering with disgust as he tried to stand up, and almost humorously, the sleeve began to fall from the deflating cock of the horse, until it dropped into the puddle below with a quiet plip. It splattered some more of the ejaculate up onto Ron's legs, the only part of his body that was even remotely spared from the earlier flood.

From head to toe, he was a sticky example of why such work should be left to trained professionals, and whether it was the way that the seed of another male crawled over his skin, or the fact that he was so nervous about getting caught, Ron couldn't shake a terribly sick and uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Gotta get outta here...just cut your losses and get moving. If you're lucky, they won't find the blood, Ron thought, hoping that the streams of cum that spilled over him would cover up his own DNA evidence. He didn't know for sure that it would work that way, but he didn't think it likely that they'd try to find such evidence for what the authorities would likely assume to be a pervert that went too far in his love of horses.

Groggy from being knocked over so forcefully, Ron did all that he could to stand up under the satisfied horse. He crawled over to the edge of the barn and rested against one of the old, dried walls of rickety wood and wiped as much of the seed from his clothes as he could, but he still felt sickly, and he was beginning to feel off balance. He did everything that he could to contain his stomach as he made his way for the door of the barn, but in his haste, he slipped and fell forward, onto his hands and knees.

The seed was so voluminous that even his shoes weren't spared, and now, his knees were scraped, as well. The grogginess was only getting worse as Ron tried to stand again, but his head felt so heavy that it became an impossible task. His neck felt thick, and as he tried to stand, he felt that he couldn't so much as pick his chest up and off of the ground. All of the extra weight was strange enough, as if gravity itself determined that he wasn't allowed to stand, but then, a terrible itch began radiating from his wound, and he could hardly reach back far enough to scratch it.

"Too early to be an infection," Ron muttered, as he managed to drag his nails over the outside of his shorts. "Am I allergic to horses or something? D-damn, that itches!"

An allergy would have been a far more pleasant reality for Ron, who continued struggling with all of his might, but as his chest began to literally expand before his eyes, he saw why he couldn't stand upright.

Ron was a fairly average man, as far as physical stature was concerned. His chest, however, was ballooning out and expanding, becoming wide and thick with muscles that were never there before. He nearly lost his dinner as he watched flesh bubble up and grow, until his pectoral muscles began merging together in their mass, and his shoulders grew wider and wider. Such rapid muscle growth was exhausting, and Ron nearly passed out from the strain.

The only thing keeping him conscious was that terrible itch, and it was getting worse, as he saw the source of it spreading up and over his right shoulder.

Pouring out from his wound wasn't blood, and it wasn't the excess semen that had been spilled into the gap. It was fur, thick and coarse, spreading along his body as rapidly as bacteria over a weakened immune system. He could feel tufts of it popping up over his thighs, and he shuddered from his inability to scratch at any of the itches; his arms were firmly planted with the weight of his chest on top of them. They were gaining strength enough to lift him from the floor, but before they could, his center of balance began to shift, as he felt the weight spreading down through his torso.

His legs, once rather skinny and weak, began to inflate so rapidly that they appeared to be filled with helium. Muscles that were completely undefined before became rigid and thick within mere seconds, and while Ron managed to hold his body up despite it, he finally collapsed fully onto his stomach when his fingers suddenly lost their grip on the floor.

This time, it wasn't the spilled, excess seed, but the fact that his fingers were hardening that made it impossible for Ron to stay upright. Gasping, Ron tried to contain his shock as he turned his wrist inward as much as he could and watched his fingers melt together. The flesh bound slowly at first, but as it did, a resin began forming over his fingertips, working back toward his wrist, which was already covered in a thick layer of the dark, brown fur that was spreading over his body.

'Son of a bitch' was the term that came to mind as Ron watched, but he could feel his jaw locking up and going numb, as if he'd been given a Novocaine injection. He tried forcing a sound from his throat, but it felt as though the words were trapped behind a filter in his throat, and as it became harder to breath, each breath moved slower than the last. It wasn't actually suffocation, however, but a literal elongating of his neck, one that happened slow enough for him to barely notice it. As the itch spread over his face, and Ron wished that he had a razor to shave away the excess fur, he finally did manage one tiny, pathetic noise: a whimpering whinny that drew the attention of the horse that he'd brought to a climax only minutes before.

Ron was closer to a horse than a human as his transformation neared a completion, but for all of the new strength and stamina that he felt, there was a less than enjoyable sensation in his internal organs, as something external began to creep back inside. His cock, already made to feel small by comparison to the horse, was shrinking backwards and shriveling up, as the urethra in the center of it expanded. Ron tried to shriek in terror as he managed once last glance between his legs, but the sound came out as nothing more than a concerned neigh, and he immediately clenched his wide, growing teeth together, not wanting to alarm anyone. His face was elongated into a proper muzzle, and his lips were wide, unable to frown to show just how unhappy he was with the change between his legs. Struggling to stand, even then, Ron forced his hooves against the rickety floor of the old barn and stood as upright as possible...but standing didn't make him any more of a man.

It made him less of one, as his member completely faded into his flesh, and his sack, one heavy with the overflowing orbs within, soaked right into the flesh around his newly born folds. If he were still a human, Ron might have been able to experiment and feel around his sex to find that he was now a female, but instead, he could only struggle to deal with the hollow sensation of a passage that carried into his body, and the feeling of losing what had been his most prized organ.

He couldn't even scream to help bare the suffering of the moment, knowing that it would just draw undue attention and get him into trouble. Of course, he had no idea where to look for help with his current predicament, as his spine fully extended to allow his body the proper stance and posture of a horse. At the very base of his tailbone, Ron could feel a strange wiggling under his skin, as flesh expanded outward from his lower back and long, thin hairs sprouted out from the surface of his flesh, bursting through the skin. Only the base of the newborn tail was still visible, as long, fine hairs dangled over the end of it and kept his nude body somewhat modest; his clothes had been shredded by the process of his growing body long before he got that far, and tatters of fabric still remained under his stomach, where he once rested.

Ron was no longer a human, and no longer a 'he.' She was a concerned, scared pony, one that didn't have anyone to look to for help at the moment. There was only one other living being anywhere near her, and already, she could feel him gazing upon her body. Her skin was so sensitive that it was as if her nerves were actually another set of eyes, able to tell when someone with a darker motive might be gazing upon her.

For all of the work he'd put in that evening, the pony was going to get an up close and personal lesson in breeding horses, as the male walked around the back of her body. Ron was having trouble enough adjusting to the feeling of standing on hooves, so she locked up completely, too nervous to try walking away as the male jumped up and lunged his front legs over her back. His tummy rested against the round, smooth muscles of her plot, and though she shuddered and shook under his sudden weight, she was able to support him, as if her body was made to do exactly that. She shuffled nervously for a moment, but when the male horse came to lean over her back and brush his muzzle gently against her neck, Ron actually felt a sincere comfort.

It was a comfort that was shattered as the horse who had been used before became the user. His bobbing, growing cock began jabbing mercilessly at Ron's backside, poking and prodding into the thick of her flesh with no remorse for how harshly he pounded her body each time that he missed his goal. His determination was wild, however, as he continued humping forward until the flare of his member finally did find the wide, welcoming labia of his new target.

The probing thrusts were gentle compared to what came next. Ron whinnied uncontrollably, crying out as she tried to take all of the length that the male horse could offer, but each and every time, he plowed his hips deep, and the entirety of his cock struggled to fit inside of what was effectively a virgin passage. That virginity was completely shattered as the eager male continued pumping his hips forward, sliding his manhood as deep as it would move, as the flare around the end of his rod continued to spread Ron out wider and wider, making for an easier passage each time that he moved.

Brutal was an understatement. It wasn't lovemaking, but a deep, hard and cruel fucking, one that might be fueled by karma for Ron's actions as she held strong and steady under the weight of the male. She had only one solace, knowing just how quickly equines were likely to achieve orgasm, and she could feel hot streaks of cum spilling into her womanhood despite his having climaxed earlier in the evening. It was a plentiful amount, and the sounds of slick, sticky sex filled the barn as Ron cried out with a mixture of shock and pleasure, though the sound was far from human, and too loud not to be heard.

Cum splattered across the floor once again as the male was done with Ron in what seemed like a long breath for the transformed pony. She shivered and quaked, trying to keep her legs upright as overflowing ejaculated spilled from her winking vulva and trickled down over her thighs, soaking right into the brown fur that now covered her entire body. She was a full blown animal, baptized into the species by an eager male, and she had nowhere to go when the farmers finally did wake up.

Clothes were torn upon the floor, thick, white seed was spilled in multiple puddles, and laying in the middle of it all was Ron, exhausted from being taken several times throughout the night...but no one knew where she came from, or how she got there...