FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"I have a tail. A god damn cow tail. This cannot be happening. I wanted to become bull like, not a true bull. I ... I ... I can't believe this. Oww." Bob pleaded with himself, trying wholeheartedly to deny what his eyes were telling him. Going so far as to yank his own tail; proving only that the tail in his hands was indeed firmly attached to his backside.

"What do I do now?" Bob inquired of himself, "To be hung like a bull, I could deal; but this," holding his tail to the sky, "this ... this ... this scares the crap out of me. I can't go to a doctor; they'll want to study my malformation. I can't go to an audition, they'll run and hide and call the doctor ..." Bob contemplated his predicament for a while, managing a wry smile at the 'cattle call' auditions he used to go to. "No matter how I look at it my life has eternally changed because of that infernal product." Bob's eyes lit up with an idea.

"That product had to have been made by someone; someone who must know how their product works. I can't be the only victim of such a ... drastic side effect." Bob remembered the paper he had so carelessly cast aside lying on the kitchen floor downstairs. Hefting his bull package into his hands, Bob made his way down the stairs. Once there, Bob rummaged through the mess of packing material he had so carelessly strewn across his kitchen until he found the paper. Picking it up with trembling hands Bob read:

Thank you for your purchase of the Bull Master cylinder, the pre-eminent technology in male enhancement through vacuum force. We hope you are as pleased with your cylinder as we are of its innovative design. Should you have any questions about your new Bull Master, call our customer service department for prompt answers to all your questions.

Bob hastily grabbed his phone to begin dialing the number on the paper. While waiting for a response, Bob scanned down the page and notice a line that blanched his knuckles and made his knees weak:

WARNING: NEVER wear Bull Master cylinder overnight. Unmonitored pumping may lead to dire consequences.

Bob was about to slip into unconsciousness when a voice picked up the other end of the line.

"Thank you for calling Pump Toys, Inc. This is Maria, how may I help you?" asked a pleasant voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, I'm a customer, and I have a major problem with your product." Bob retorted.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that sir. What seems to be the problem? Did the cylinder not leave you shaped and contoured like a bull?" inquired Maria with a hint of concern, while staying within the product's advertising mantra.

"Well ... uuum ... in that way the Bull Master has worked too well," fumbled Bob.

"I don't understand, sir, you claimed our product was a failure," Maria offered, confused.

"No, no, no. I said I had a major problem, and that problem is that the cylinder worked too well," Bob explained.

"Oh, I see sir. Are you stuck in the tube? Well in that ca...," started Maria, a smile beginning to form on her lips, before Bob cut her off.

"NO, you see my Bull Master cylinder seems to have disappeared, and my ...,"

"Disappeared!" exclaimed Maria, "How is that possible?"

"THAT'S WHY I CALLED YOU!" screamed Bob

".... .... ...."

Regaining his composure, Bob explained, "You see, when I tried the Bull Master, I became so enraptured with the pleasure brought upon me that I pumped all through the night. When I awoke the cylinder was gone, and my package was ... uum, altered."

"You are aware the instructions implicitly state not to wear the cylinder overnight," queried Maria.

"I am now," responded Bob.

"O...k, altered how?" inquired Maria.

"Uuum," fidgeted Bob. He fondled his balls, feeling their weight to confirm to him that they were real before answering, "I have a true bull's package where my human set once hung. " Bob cringed nervously as the words left his lips to another's ears.

"One moment please," intoned Maria.

Muzak blared in Bob's ear as he was abruptly placed on hold. Confused by the sudden change of events, Bob began to wonder if he had made the right move. His paranoid mind began to work overtime, "They have my name, number, and address. They are going to call the cops, who will call the doctors, who will imprison me as a freak. I've gotta get out of here, gotta go, gotta gotta go..."

"Sir," came Maria's voice; derailing Bob's train of thought.

"Y ... y... yes," stammered Bob.

"Have you masturbated your new bull cock, sir?" questioned Maria sternly.

"Y ... y... yes."

"Then Bull Master, Inc cannot help you. You have violated the terms and agreements you consented to at the time of purchase of your cylinder. Thus, we cannot be held liable in this matter. Goodbye." The line immediately went dead, leaving Bob dumbfounded.

"What terms and agreements," thought Bob, "I don't re ... damn it," The tiny little check box from the check out screen slammed Bob in his mind's eye. "Damn it, damn it, damn it; I knew that box was trouble when it appeared for a physical product instead of software, but I still reflexively checked it without reading. Damn it, I guess I'm on my own." Beaten and depressed, Bob trudged slowly to the couch; his balls softly bouncing between his legs.

Carefully lowering upon the couch, so not to injure his balls or strain his tail, Bob turned on the television in hopes of distracting his mind from his predicament. Surfing channels for a while, his mind would not yield its focus to any program. It kept wandering back to his ponderous cock and balls.

"What do I do now? Who can I turn to? What's coming next? What can I do with these things?..." Questions spun through Bob's head, yet the answers were impossibly elusive.

"And now we return to our special report: 'Milk: Secrets of the White Solution'," droned the television.

The announcement broke Bob's train of thought. However, his personal musings quickly regained control. Their hold maintained a tight grip on Bob until images of cows being milked burned into Bob's retinas. Seeing those lovely ladies being hooked up to the pumps reminded Bob of his childhood. When he took those luscious nipples into his mouth, and drained them of their thick, warm, nutritious, white goodness. The liquid of life filling his belly, ensuring that he grow into a big, healthy ...

"What the hell!" Bob shouted at the television. "Where did those thoughts come from? I'm a human, not a cow!" Rage filled Bob. To prove his proclamation he began to search his mind for memories of his childhood. He recalled many of his firsts: his first day of kindergarten, how proud he and his parents were, his first hit at tee-ball, his first taste of field grass as he rolled it round his tongue. Bob paused at that thought, shook his head, and started anew. Bob reminisced about his first date with, what was her name ... Michelle, their first kiss in the park, how she would tease him, how great she made him feel, and how he took that cow out into the pasture and filled her need with his seed.

Bob's eyes glazed over with passion at the thought of filling cow cunt with his throbbing bovine member. His desires drove him so mad he tried to reach through the television to grab the fine piece of cow hide displayed before him. Banging his hand against the screen did nothing to assuage Bob's raging hormones. His mind's dalliances began to impact Bob's physical being. His cock opened its floodgates to circulating blood, quickly filling its veins to their breaking point causing his cock to strain against its bounds. Bob's balls began to churn in preparation of unleashing their heavenly load.

All Bob could see at this point was the cow's behind. He had tunnel vision for those fine pouty cow lips quivering and moaning for attention. Attention Bob would gladly provide. He firmly grasped his cock with both hands and guided the engorged cock tip to her glistening lips. In his living room, Bob began to work his hands up and down his pole, while his mind's eye reported, reality to Bob's hormone soaked brain, udder pleasure from his cock delving deep within the fluttering walls of his cow. Bob bucked his hips, relentlessly driving his cock into his imaginary cow. His balls dancing in their leather sack rising ever further toward pure ecstasy. Grasping tightly behind his cock head, Bob sent his imaginary cow into orgasm. The walls of her vagina rumbled over his length, causing Bob's balls to nearly jump into his body as they contracted hard, releasing their load. Orgasm rocked Bob, all muscle fibers firing creating a full catatonic state. Cum blasted the television hard enough to crack the screen as Bob's eyes rolled back into his head from the euphoric pleasure; passing out.

Hairs on Bob's midsection rose and began multiplying as new growth began to emerge down his legs. Quickly awash in black, Bob's leg muscles expanded; increasing in strength, size and definition. Bone density rose to support the new mass; lengthening and shaping Bob's lower half to better frame his reproductive package. As the changes ceased, Bob was eternally endowed with hybrid legs of extreme power retaining human dexterity.

Confusion reigned once Bob awoke, had he just mated with a cow or not. He couldn't separate the memory from the obvious reality that, for one, there was no cow in his living room and his television was coated in drying cum. Still, the feelings and emotions from his latest romp were vivid in Bob's mind. He couldn't dismiss his feelings of desire for the bovine species, but they did scare him.

"I need someone to talk to..."

To be continued...