FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Steve stumbled out of his old bedroom, dressed in nothing but boxers, charging for the kitchen. The morning was half-over, but he'd spent the night driving home from university after the last day of his exams. This had meant partying with his friends, packing while trying to sober up, before heading on the one-and-a-half-hour-long drive back home to his family's farm.

At twenty years old, he was a little older than most freshmen; but he'd spent the first two years post-school in a farm-based training program which had taught him some new things his father didn't know about. Besides, he was really only going to university because that's what his friends were doing, and because it was a good place to "sow the wild oats" as his grandfather had often phrased it.

Hungrily, he opened up the kitchen, rubbing his relatively flat stomach; between the physically intensive farm work he'd been doing, and the sports he enjoyed, Steve was in good shape. Not toned or overly muscled, although he did that occasionally for sport or just to show off, but a shape that showed he had a pretty athletic lifestyle and that the food he was grabbing from the refrigerator and pantry was going to be burned off quite soon.

Putting a couple of pieces of toast into the toaster, he popped some of the home-grown bacon into a frying pan along with an egg. Keeping one eye on it while it cooked, he glanced down at a piece of paper that had been left out on the breakfast bar; with the rest of his family probably out on the farm or in town, he gave it a quick read in case it was a message for him. It was; his dad wanted him to tag some Sussex steers that he'd bought and were arriving later that morning. Nodding to himself, Steve rescued his bacon and eggs from the frying pan, before grabbing his toast and quickly wolfing down his breakfast. While he ate, he looked out of the window; the sun was out, and it was surprisingly warm for this time of year.

Tossing the dirtied dish and cutlery into the sink along with the frying pan, Steve went to the bathroom. Grabbing his toothbrush from beside the sink, he squirted a little bit of toothpaste on before heading over to stand in front of the toilet. With one hand furiously jerking his toothbrush from one side of his mouth to the other, he used the other to work his cock out of his boxers and aimed it at the toilet; a thin stream of dark urine pissed out of him. His bladder gratefully relaxed as he spat out the used toothpaste from his mouth into the toilet. Once done, he headed back over to the sink to replace his toothbrush and wash his hands, and then his mouth out. Stashing his boxers in the laundry hamper on his way out, Steve slowly streaked through the house, back to his bedroom, where he pulled on some clothes, idly singing off-key to himself.

A few moments later, and he was pulling on his boots, fully dressed and standing outside, the family's pet dogs looking at him and wagging their tails. He brushed past them, before hopping on to one of the free motorbikes, riding it the short distance to the cattle yards with the dogs barking trailing off in the distance.

The truck was waiting there; the driver and Steve greeted each other and Steve signed off on some paperwork before helping the driver unload the cattle from the large trailer that had backed up; sliding open the door after extending a small metal bridge over the gap, the beasts - apparently greatful to be getting out of the cramped truck - emerged single-file, stomping off down the laneway and into a couple of open pens.

After a bit of small-talk, Steve farewelled the driver, who slowly turned his long truck around as Steve watched on; in the sky past the truck he noticed something, possibly a plane, streaking through the sky, before he was distracted from the object by the truck's horn. Steve waved, then started his chore. Slowly waving his arms up and down, he scared the cattle fully through into one of the pens, before he began the tedious effort of working solo to open gates, chase cattle from one pen to another, before closing it behind them and repeating until they could be taken around to where the small alley to the cattle crush was, and then beyond into a small pen from where they could be mustered to wherever his dad wanted them to take.

It didn't take as long as it could have, because the animals were unsettled and scared, but it was still an exercise in motivation; Steve was used to it though, and it was a pleasantly warm day, and with a good climate and relatively easy work, Steve wasn't going to complain about the animals being a bit recalcitrant.

Finally he managed to get them to enter the narrow passage one at a time before grunting as he slammed the heavy metal divider shut, trapping those in the laneway and stopping the others from entering prematurely and giving him more work. Getting one into the cattle crush proved to be a little more difficult; it was definitely a two-person job; or even a one-man, one-dog job, if he had had a cattle-working dog that is.

Dashing back and forth, Steve worked up a sweat; stripping off his shirt, he wiped his brow and armpits with it before balling it up and tossing it onto the motorbike's seat. Stepping onto the small raised ledge that ran the length of the alleyway, Steve whacked one of the steers on its dark red-brown rump hard with his hand, before quickly jumping off and slamming the bar of the cattle crush downwards. He grinned as the frightened animal banged and crashed against the machine, trying in vain to escape.

From off in the distance, Steve heard the rumblings of an engine. Guessing his dad was coming back from whatever chore had kept him from doing this, he rummaged around the box of plastic numbered tags before loading one into the handheld tagging device and bringing it to the animal's ear once it had calmed down enough for him to keep it on. Blood sprayed over his face and chest as the steer's ear was punctured, and the tag threaded through it.

Raising the bar, Steve opened the front gate; this caused the rear gates of the crush to close, and the now-freed animal quickly ran into the field beyond. After closing it, another steer wandered through, trying to join its compatriot in the field before being captured by the lowering metal bar.

The engine noise was louder, and Steve dropped the tagging machine on the bench before poking his head around, ready to call out a joke to "the old man". The words caught in his throat, as a strange, small, tank-like machine drove over the hill, knocking over a fence and running it over with its many small wheels. On the top of the tank was a short, thin barrel; it turned to face Steve, who quickly tried to leap out of the way, only to catch the electric probe in the back.

Steve yelled, startling the already nervous cattle, as he collapsed and twitched on the ground, electricity zapping his body. Mud coated his back and side as he awkwardly tried to fight off the sensation.

The tanks' sides raised; two strange humanoid shapes in silvery spacesuits emerged, arguing and pointing at him. One, holding a large, heavy-looking metal collar, approached Steve with all the caution of someone approaching a lion. The collar opened when the alien held it to Steve's neck; Steve felt the metal retract as it slid over his throat, quickly closing again once it had reached the other side. The creature reached down, pulling out the probe and the surprisingly long needle that had inserted itself into Steve's body; it then backed off of him, as his weak body started to recover from the electrocution.

The other creature, having pulled out a small tablet-like computer from somewhere, tapped into the thing furiously, before the tablet spoke. To Steve, it sounded like someone had run sound clips and taken words or syllables and spliced it together. The tablet's voice awkwardly explained, "Homo sapien creature, you will obey our orders."

The metal collar seemed to tighten, moving smoothly against Steve's neck. Shivering, he tried to slide backwards.

The first creature had one of the tablets as well; he used it to say, "Perhaps there is a mistranslation, it does not seem to be obeying as it should."

"The collar will make it compliant," the other creature messaged, "but it is too nervous and may make an error."

The creatures seemed to be looking at their screens; the voice seemed to be solely for Steve's benefit. He still felt shaky, and still couldn't stand up or do much else than lie there, mud dripping off of him. He flinched with a yelp when the collar, apparently reactivating, inserted a needle into the back of his neck.

"We should administer the hormones to make it aroused," the first creature messaged. "It should be more calm and compliant once it has engaged in sexual acts."

"We also need to isolate it," the second creature responded, "so it cannot return to other humans unless we allow it." The creatures' helmets turned, and they appeared to look this way and that in deliberate, slow scanning arcs.

"Bos primigenius are in the area," announced the first creature. "Collation of historical data proves this would be an effective alteration: human fear and respect. I shall collect a sample."

"Scans show sample already in contact with subject," the second creature noted, pointing one of its gloved hands at Steve; Steve noticed that the hands had only four fingers. He shuddered, weakly trying to stand as mud oozed down his body and arm, slipping around his fingers as he pressed himself up.

"Select and continue," the first creature messaged, "the subject should stay where it is to avoid problems."

Steven wasn't in the mood to be listening to these aliens, and once he was on his feet he teetered over towards the motorbike.

"The subject should not try to escape!" the first creature messaged. Steve dared a glance over his shoulder; the second creature had moved back over to the tank while the first frantically tapped at the tablet.

The collar constricted; Steve gasped and fell against the motorbike, knocking over the two-wheeler. Gasping for air, he sank against the metal frame, trying to recover. Still panting, he heard footsteps; turning his head, he saw the second of the creatures approaching with some kind of gun.

"No!" Steve moaned weakly, as the second creature aimed the gun at him.

From the gun barrel squirted a steady stream of red liquid, splashing over Steve's dirty, half-clothed form. It flowed over his skin, running over his body as the stream ceased and the creature lowered its gun, a final few drops dripping out of the nozzle.

"Activating hormones," the first creature announced, as the second shook the liquid gun before heading back to the tank. "Documenting progress," it added.

Steve had regained his breath; struggling once again to his feet, his head swum. He felt a sting around the back of his neck, where he guessed he was being injected with whatever it was. The red liquid stuck to his bare skin, and tingled as he felt his body absorbing it.

Steve's body felt very warm, warmer than he should be even on a fine, sunny day like this. His body began to perspire, the sweat sliding down his body, mingling with the red fluid that stained his skin; the stain slowly began to spread over the rest of his skin as the tingling spread over him. Once again desperate for air, Steve felt small streams of sweat trickling down his arms.

Slowly, Steve's mind turned towards thoughts of sex: although he noticed the creatures annotating things to him and to each other, it didn't seem to matter as his cock slowly tented the front of the tracksuit pants he was wearing. The tingling from the red liquid spread over his genitals as the patch of reddened skin spread down both his legs, and around over his back. Steve slid one hand down the front of the pants, stained from the mud and sweat, sliding around his member as he groaned in pleasure.

His body continuing to tingle, and now itch as coarse dark red hairs sprouted over his body, Steve stroked himself gently with one hand, the other reaching out into the air, flailing as he tried to hold himself steady: the effect of the electrocution, the red liquid and the added hormones was making his legs rubbery and weak. Steve slowly shuffled over towards the wooden fence of the cattle yards, pausing occasionally to grunt and rapidly stroke on his stiff, sweat-slick manhood a few times to satisfy his growing sexual urges before slowing down to shuffle forward a little more.

Unsteadily crashing into the fence, Steve grunted loud, low and heavy. His skin felt tight, even as a thicker pelt forced its way out, and he shivered and bucked as the sweaty, musky odour of his crotch billowed up into his face as Steve athletically worked on his cock; still particularly sensitive but somehow able to tolerate a little more physicality than Steve would normally put into masturbating. His nostrils flared wide, droplets spraying away as he grunted loudly, the sound echoing over the hills.

Steve dropped his cock for a moment as a heavy shudder ran over his body; his muscles tightened and twitched, and he gripped tightly onto one of the wooden beams. He bellowed deeply; looking down, Steve noticed the hairy, red torso quivering with muscles, damn with sweat, as the ridges and bumps of large, overworked abdominals began to show through the thick layer of skin that burst through the old one.

The muscular swelling wasn't just confined to his abdomen; the arms gripping onto the wood were thickening with large veins and heavy cords of muscle, the hands themselves becoming larger, with thicker fingernails. Large biceps pressed against the thick, outward-jutting pectorals, which ran with red hair. Looking at the cattle in the yards, for a moment Steve moaned with recognition of his own pelt in that of the animals.

Then his pants exploded, and he bellowed again; glancing down, Steve saw a loose string hanging around his waist, and material flopping around it and down by his ankles. The increased muscle mass had changed his lower body too; his calves twitched and flexed as he involuntarily squatted. His boots stretched awkwardly around his feet, which throbbed painfully as they were encased, inching forwards slightly as the bones in his legs altered. His hefty thighs spread apart; looking downwards, Steve wondered if he had really been this tall, or whether it was the transformation which seemed to be making him grow. Having gone unsatisfied by the lack of attention, the now relatively small erection between Steve's mightly legs throbbed. Nostrils flaring wildly, he kicked one leg after another in the air as one hand left the beam and reached down to stroke himself again; with his body still quivering as if it were cold, even though he felt far too heated, Steve still needed to hold himself upright, especially as he tried to shake off his footwear.

The strange, mangled feet that emerged just made Steve snort; his head was pounding as that, too, began to reshape and transform, and between that and the overbearing lust just made him unable to concentrate on anything but fondling himself, stroking with the only skin - albeit thicker, stranger skin - that was readily apparent on his body.

His testicles thrummed; his jaw, elongating, fell open and Steve's thickening tongue lolled out, droll trailing down his mouth. Steve's strokes became tighter and more urgent; his dick seemed to have been rubbed raw as he didn't seemed to be leaking precum, despite usually doing so when he was this aroused. Nevertheless, he continued jacking his meat, which not only looked smaller, but felt smaller in his giant hands.

Two lumps formed at his temples, slowly and bloodlessly wearing away at the skin, before two horn nubs burst through, growing quickly as a flood of testosterone poured through Steve's body. His face, already misshapen from the expanding jawbone, quivered as more of Steve's human features were slowly replaced by near-bovine equivalents; although his brain remained roughly the same size and shape, the parts further outward further matched those of a bull.

Even though, his brain was not without its own changes; but these were far subtler and carry-overs from the other transformations and the extra chemicals flooding his system. Aside from the heavy arousal was the increased aggression; only the dampening efforts of the collar, which had expanded in time with the growth of his thick, wide neck, kept him from violently attacking the aliens who had done this to him. The arousal also impeded his rationality, not Steve's strongest ability beforehand anyway, and he felt awash with impulses.

Bellowing, his vision started to cloud, tinting red just a little before his eyes were forced closed; a few moments later, and Steve continued to jerk off through a pulsing headache. Red fluid ran like tears down his face, until finally he opened his new eyes. Although he could still see in colour, and sharper and farther than before, everything seemed twisted and strange. The end of his nose swelled, his nostrils large and wide.

Steve finally felt a few cooling drips of precum slide up onto his fingers; it was about time, his testicles had just started to painfully swell to fill his scrotum, and it was only now that the skin containing his balls was stretching outwards. His cock seemed to be growing too; he bellowed in pleasure as it became more satisfyingly big in his hands, swelling from the base up until it petered out, adjusting its shape more slowly than it grew. His shaft, becoming pointier and alien to him - although Steve certainly recognised which species it seemed to have been inspired by - stretched through the vibrant blood-red it had been to a lighter, fleshier pink. The malformed head dripped with precum, which ran along his shaft, making it easier to crank while also oozing into the flesh. A thick ring of skin crept up from the base of his cock, squeezing him for extra pleasure while it slowly enveloped his shaft, tufts of loose hair sprouting from the end.

His scrotum, thick and nearly fist-sized, slapped his inner thighs; Steve's tight grip had splintered through the wood, and he shifted his support to one of the neighbouring poles, thrusting his now lengthy shaft into his hand, before its length encouraged him to support himself from his head. Milking his cock with both hands, Steve's nub of a tail twitched, the creamy tip lengthening over his large, firm buttocks.

Steve's body now screamed for release. His cock, now about the length of his forearms, was slick with lubrication, and it and the rest of his body were primed for release. Finally, he felt the familiar stirrings of semen collecting within his ducts, ready to be squirted out, sending a warm pleasurable feeling rippling through his new body, whose changes appeared to be slowing.

Bellowing loudly and uncontrollably, Steve ejaculated, the thick shoots of cum squirting in a heavy line along and through the wooden fence of the stockyards. He sprayed on a couple of the animals, but Steve was beyond caring about anything but release. The creamy fluid poured out of him in several long jets, his changed body shuddering with pleasure.

Again he staggered back, the semen now just oozing out of his tip as he awkwardly walked on his thick hooves. Stumbling, the alterations in his brain began to work, as he gained coordination on how to walk on his transformed legs.

"Mutation successful," the second alien noted.

Steve panted, his brain awash with endorphins. He felt terribly drained; his vision was shifting focus, and after a few steps he had to stand still and nearly fainted. One of the aliens - the one who had shot him with the red stuff - waddled over, carrying with a large jar full of green goop. Steve tried to shuffle away, but the collar started to constrict around his neck, and he paused. The creature handed the jar to Steve, who held on to it reluctantly; it smelled of grass.

"Liquified bos nutriment," the alien messaged. Steve looked at it. "Consume! Consume!" the creature added.

Unscrewing the top; Steve reluctantly sipped at it. "Not bad," he thought to himself. He drank some more.

The drink helped to revitalise him; Steve didn't realise how hungry and thirsty he had become. It didn't take him long to finish it off. He was still hungry and thirsty, but didn't want to ask for more in case it was poisoned or something.

While he recuperated, he watched the aliens. Apparently interested in the steer in the field, they milled about, trying to interact with it; the beast was too frightened to come near. Eventually, they returned to their tank, fired the taser gun at it a couple of times, then collared it and poured some of the red liquid on the steer as it thrashed about on its side, before extracting the electrified dart, and retracting to a safe distance as the creature eventually rediscovered its footing.

Steve could smell when the creature became aroused, which was probably strange for a steer, and probably frustrating for something without hands. The musk poured from the creature, whose huge pink poker of a cock jutted out, as the steer bellowed out in lust.

Steve continued watching the creature, as slowly but surely he could see that the steer was transforming as well, but the reverse of his own. The muscle mass slowly decreasing, as the limbs shifted to more human proportions, though well above even the upper sizes that humans could normally achieve.

When its front hooves had turned into rudimentary hands, the creature shifted on to its newly-acquired semi-human buttocks and started stroking its erection, bellowing and moaning. Occasionally, it would stop stroking to hold its head painfully or to fall backwards and spasm, then look confused for a few moments before its lust took over again and the steer started to masturbate again, becoming more dexterous as time went on.

While Steve watched, the creature eventually started to resemble his current form; almost as if it was his twin. He shivered and felt revulsion and anger; the collar needle, apparently able to sense his change of mood, released more endorphins to calm him down.

Having fully rested, Steve stood up. Despite feeling hungry, thirsty and tired, and despite what had happened, he felt quite good. He'd never really felt his body was bad before, but he could feel the potential power of his huge, muscular form. That and the huge dick: even though it was as animalistic as the rest of him was now, it was still larger than normal, and jerking off with it had been pleasurable. Watching the steer growing his own set of huge testicles, the twins of his own pair, even gave him a jolt of arousal; almost as if he could feel the steer's lust and self-pleasuring. Steve made his way over, watching the creature grunting and frantically stroking its erection, idly playing with its balls as they grew into a new scrotum. Idly, Steve thought of how useful that would be on the farm; another surge from the collar made the pink rod that had retracted into Steve's sheath poke out again.

The other bull-man noisily and enthusiastically ejaculated, Steve idly stroking his own in response, as the scent of fresh sex started to waft to his giant nostrils. The aliens went over to examine the creature, giving it another jar of liquid plant matter to eat, before returning to their tablet-delivered chatter.

"Subjects have been adapted successfully," noted one of the aliens.

The other answered, "We need to gauge them for preparedness."

Steve wondered what that was; the transformed steer wandered over to him, nostrils flaring. Steve turned, trying to say something, but Steve couldn't understand anything beyond a vague sense of curiosity. The ex-steer, too, seem baffled.

The aliens approached, each now bearing two arm-bands of some kind; half the thickness of the pair's nearly-identical forearms, each had a screen displaying a keyboard. Although his vision was still screwy, Steve could still tell that this resembled the tablets the aliens had used. The aliens carefully attached the arm-bands to the two bull-men; carefully inserting a small sharp needle that made Steve tingle.

"Hello," messaged the ex-steer. It didn't even touch the screen, but the message was voiced.

Steve, somewhat surprised that the thing knew any words at all, replied back after a pause, "Hello." Steve seemed startled; just thinking about saying the word seemed to be enough to activate it. "Cute," he added.

"Do subjects find their forms satisfactory?" inquired one of the aliens.

"Yes," replied the transformed steer. It said a bunch of other things, mostly a scattering of random words as the creature got used to communicating.

Steve remained quiet; while he admitted he did feel good - being this strong and powerful was very pleasing to his male ego - he did worry about his family and friends and what would happen. But as he worried, he felt a rush of endorphins, or a dose of hormones that would make him feel aroused. Whatever their goal was, the aliens did not want him thinking about his family or other human beings for too long.

Eventually, it got too distracting; his body had recovered enough, and Steve became aroused again. Gently stroking himself, he thought about muttering, a "yes" of pleasure. The aliens took this as an assent, or at least Steve believed so because they stopped asking about whether he liked his new form.

The aliens then returned to their tank. Steve and the other bull-man looked puzzledly at each other, until the commands from the alien tank reached them. Walking side by side along the fence, Steve waited for his transformed twin to climb over the fence, before they headed down the road for some unspecified purpose.

• a story by toucanplay -