FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I straightened my skirt before I got up to leave the bus. The scents of the half-asleep passengers blended together in my lupine nostrils; a melange of night-shift workers reeking of cheap synth-coffee, late-day shifters stinking of sweat-stained exhaustion, and those like me who were out for a night of blowing off steam with our blend of hairspray, perfumes that barely covered up the stink of the day shift, and, in the case of a few headed to the same club as myself, estrogen gel. I’d learned to recognize the smell of that particular topical after my first couple nights hanging out at Crossed.

I stood, giving myself a quick examination in the reflection of the window. My pink crop-top hung a good ten centimeters above my navel, breast forms poking out from my chest. My black skirt hid a rainbow of colors between the pleats, short enough to be inviting, but still long enough that I didn’t risk exposing what hid between my legs, at least not intentionally. The green temp-dye in my hair appeared to be holding for now, but hopefully it would fade away before I clocked into work tomorrow morning.

I followed after the other passengers disembarking at my stop. A parade of assorted species in mismatched outfits, dull work uniforms clashing with bright club wear. After stepping off the bus stairs and onto the sidewalk the crowd dispersed quickly, heading to their respective occupations of the evening. I stuck with a small group headed between two crumbling skyscrapers into a narrow alleyway. A turn to the left into an even narrower alley, followed by another couple turns and finally we were there.

An animated holo-sign of a dancing bunny in a color-shifting showgirl dress hung above the entrance to the club. I didn’t see a line outside the door this night, just a pair of Amazonian security guards, a bear and an elk, with no obvious weapons but their claws and antlers respectively. The animated bunny hanging over them flipped up their skirt, revealing their metallic underwear emblazoned with a male symbol that had the arrow cut off and the word “Crossing” underneath. The first of our little group, a fox dressed like an overgrown Catholic schoolgirl, approached the bear. She held a reader up to the fox’s palm and scanned her ID implant, after it dinged the bear guard flipped up the hem of the fox’s skirt, nodded, and waved her through. The others ahead of me went in, alternating between the two guards, until I stood in front of the elk. She read my chip, and I winced slightly as I realized she could see my real name, Aidan Hunt, but she didn’t seem to care. As she reached under my skirt I tried to focus on her antlers, hoping my excitement wouldn’t show.

She sighed, “still haven’t bought your own cage?”

I shrugged, “the rental ones have worked pretty well so far.”

The elk rolled her eyes at me. “Those fees add up, you know. You really would be better off investing in a good cage, they’d be a lot more comfortable than the rentals. Heck, they’ve got permanent cages now that you barely even notice most of the time.” She waved me in.

I grumbled and walked through the doors into the hallway to the dance floor. A half-dozen rusty chastity belts hung from a rack on the wall. I found one that almost looked like it might fit me and palmed the reader to pay my fee and release it. While I slipped it on under my skirt I noticed the holo-ads covering the walls rotating through various ads for female clothing, sex toys, breast forms and hormones, and chastity cages. I could have sworn that the ads switched to cages just as I was walking past them. Fortunately after just a few meters of hallway I came up to a sign reading “cage your cocks girls”, and past it, the club proper.

As I passed through the soundproofing field the dubstep reverberated in my chest, the flashing lights that had been muted by the field and walls burned at my retinas. I surveyed the crowd, every species imaginable that could fit in a skirt or a set of fishnets bouncing and rolling around one another, all seemingly female, and most of them with a dick in a cage. Not all of Crossed’s clientele were trans women, I personally didn’t identify as such, but it certainly catered to AMAB individuals exploring their feminine sides, and/or with a public humiliation kink.

I made a beeline for the bar and pressed my hand into the palm reader, after a couple seconds the buggy drink dispenser’s screen displayed a list of the night’s specials. Conscious of how much I’d already spent on the cover charge and rental I chose a kiwi-flavored cocktail that looked cheap. As it was dispensing my drink the screen showed a reminder. “Strapped for cash? Permanent chastity cages are surprisingly affordable and qualify you for a discount!”

Once the drink was done dispensing I grabbed it and slurped down half the glass in one gulp. One of the rules of the club was “no penile pleasure”, so everyone with a cock was required to wear a cage. I’m not sure why they offered a discount for those who couldn’t get their cocks rubbed, but even with as little as I made at my retail job I couldn’t imagine it was worth the price.

I turned towards the dance floor, watching bodies gyrate as I sucked up my drink. The first time I’d come here I was just looking for a change of pace after getting bored of the gay clubs in town. Before then I’d dressed in drag once or twice, but dressing as a girl in a club full of other femboys and trans girls was a bit of an experience. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come back after the first night, but a week later I decided to try and see if I could recreate that feeling. A trio of girls; they looked vaguely like a squirrel, dog, and shark in the club lights, stopped dancing to talk for a few seconds and then, as one, turned and walked away towards the staircase at the end of the dance floor. I let out a small snicker as I realized they were heading for the private rooms.

Once I finished my drink I set the empty glass back down on the bar and got up to head for the dance floor. I slipped into the mass of femininity aimed towards the DJ, a cyborg of indeterminate species with a black screen for a muzzle. They put an old-style analog disk on the turnstile and began rocking it back and forth, producing squeaking noises that mixed with the electronic beats. I started jumping out of sync with the music, but no differently from the rest of the crowd. As the music played time slipped, I saw more groups leaving the dance floor for the sex rooms, and a few sweaty and sticky individuals with disheveled clothes returning to the floor.

I considered a few of the crowd around me; there was a large cougar wearing nothing but a small bikini bottom, with nothing to hide her impressive pair of tits. But I caught a flash of her crotch, no bulge to speak of, unfortunately my interest in neovaginas was not that great so I moved on. That was when I spotted her, a horse wearing a short skirt and a neon green top moved her muscular abs. A flash of her skirt confirmed that she was caged, and when I saw how low the cage hung I got excited, forgetting the club’s rules for a moment.

I felt my own cage tighten, and then something popped. Trying to be discreet I reached a hand under my skirt and felt around. I stopped dancing and froze as I realized what had happened.

“Hey babe,” a cat in pasties and little else asked me. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes,” I answered back rapidly. “Just need to hit the ladies room quick.” Not-so-gracefully I backed away from the dance floor and towards the bar. On the far side of the bar was a pair of restrooms, both of them labeled with stick figures that wore skirts. I started to enter the closer one, but realized that one would probably be more crowded, I didn’t want my embarrassment to be that known. So I went for the restroom further away instead.

I pushed the door open and quickly scanned the room. There was only one stall occupied, but I thought I could see two pairs of feet under the divider. Bathroom hookups weren’t particularly notable in this club, so I decided to just mind my own business and ducked into another stall. Once I locked the door behind me I bunched up my skirt to take a better look at my cage. It seemed that one of the buckles on the cheap rental had come undone, but it didn’t look damaged so with any luck my fur had just gotten stuck in it or something. Carefully I tried to redo the buckle without any fur getting in the way, but as I was fumbling with it I heard something from the other occupied stall.

“So that’s the stuff?” One voice inquired.

Another voice, higher and more nasally, answered. “Yep, just one spray and one week, and you won’t have to worry about gel and cages.”

“And it’s that cheap?” the first voice inquired again.

“Oh yes,” the second voice explained. “The gRNA is very easy to produce, the corporations just want to keep you paying for your gel.”

I paused, confused. At first it had sounded like a drug deal of some sort, but now they were talking about RNA and corporate profits? Now it sounded almost like a vaccine, but they’d also said something about gel and cages.

The first voice said “okay, shoot me up,” and I heard the ultrasonic hum of a spray-hypo at work. I tried locking my cage back up but the one receiving the drug or whatever it was started moaning in ecstatic pleasure. Despite the distraction I managed to buckle up again just as the hypo switched off. I unlocked the stall door and started self-consciously washing my hands, just in case they were somehow judgemental about it. But as I was washing the other stall door opened and a white rat in pink leggings and a sling bikini walked out, a large purse slung over her shoulder. The rat started washing her own hands and I glanced in the mirror at the stall she’d just vacated.

A green-furred bunny sat on top of the toilet lid, panting heavily. Her skirt was down around her ankles and I had a full view of her small, but uncaged, penis. Before I could stop myself I said “I thought penile pleasure wasn’t allowed?”

“DMRT has to be applied as close to the gonads as possible,” the rat said candidly.

“What does that do anyways?” I inquired, curious. “It sounded almost like it was some sort of HRT?”

“It’s super-HRT!” The bunny stood up and shouted at me. She pushed her breast forms out of her bra, revealing small but definitely growing mammaries. “I can feel it taking effect already.”

The rat looked at her incredulously. “It shouldn’t have any effect yet, aside from impotence. Your breasts should grow in over the next couple days.”

“So,” I said, thinking out loud. “It lasts for a week and works fast?” I admit that I’d occasionally considered taking estrogen to see what it was like, but the only time I’d tried it I applied the gel for three days and the only change I’d seen was feeling more weepy than usual and a little difficulty getting off. But if this drug could give me results in a few days and I wouldn’t need to bother with these cheap rental cages.. “How much does it cost?”

“One hundred,” the rat quoted. My ears perked up at that price, that was less than I spent on a week at the club. Doing some quick mental math I figured that the discounts and savings on rentals would make up the cost.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I saw an opportunity and jumped on it. “Sounds good, I’ll take it.”

“Another customer already?” the rat smiled and pulled a couple items out of her purse. One was a smartphone, I guessed for payment, and the other appeared to be a spray-hypo like I’d seen at the clinic, but a little more weathered than the clean corporate equipment I was accustomed to. I held out my hand and she scanned my chip, I heard a soft “ding” and she put the phone back in her purse.

After replacing the phone she withdrew a case twice as thick as a smartphone tablet and set it down on the counter. Inside were half a dozen narrow vials filled with a clear fluid nestled into a secure rack built into the case. She picked up the spray-hypo and popped an empty vial out of the handle, after slotting the empty vial into the case she picked out a full one and loaded it into the hypo.

I sat on the side of the counter and lifted up my skirt, exposing my cage. The cage proved easier to remove than to attach, the buckles popping open with a quick twist. “Ready when you are,” I said.

The rat fiddled with the hypo a bit before lifting my cock and pressing the oddly warm tip of the instrument to my scrotum, right between my nuts. I felt the ultrasonic hum as much as I heard it, a tingle climbing up my crotch to my spine. “Oooohhhhhh,” I moaned, trembling from the vibrations.

The bunny leaned over the rat’s shoulder and stared straight at my junk. “You’re still pretty big,” she commented. “How long have you been on E?”

“I…” I gasped out. “Haven’t had any… in…” I tried to remember how long it had been since my experiment. “Over a year.”

“Got too expensive?” she said sympathetically. “Well, you won’t need to worry about that any more.”

“Huh?” I asked, but the vibrations seemed to be scrambling my brain and I didn’t ask any further questions.

My cock continued to grow, I found myself coming closer and closer to climax. But just as I was about to erupt the vibrations stopped. The rat pulled the spray-hypo away and tucked it into her purse. “Okay, you’ll probably remain potent for a day or two,” she advised me. “So you’ll have to put that back on if you want to keep partying tonight.”

“Okay then,” I said as I tried to fumble my rental cage back over my crotch. “But tomorrow night I won’t need it?”

“Nope,” both rodents said simultaneously.

I finished buckling my cage back on and slid off the counter, only for the bunny girl to immediately glomp onto me. “I’m so happy for you!” she shouted in my face. “Let’s go celebrate! How about we break a bunch of dildos upstairs?”

She swept me out of the bathroom and up the stairs, one of the private rooms was still open and the bunny girl slapped her palm on the reader to check it out for the hour. Inside were a bunch of chairs with a variety of straps attached to the legs and armrests, a large rubber mattress, and a printer embedded into the wall. The bunny made a beeline for the printer and spoke into the mic to place her order. “Canine, thirty centimeters long, eight centimeters wide.”

A tinny voice emanated from the speaker, “would you like an inflatable knot or faux-semen reservoir?”

“Yes and yes,” she replied and the printer started whirring, through the plexiglass cover I could see the head descend and rapidly begin to deposit silicone in the shape of an oversized canine cock. She turned to me as we waited, “how about you?”

“A little smaller I think,” I admitted sheepishly. I pressed my chip to the printer and ordered “canine, twenty-five centimeters by seven centimeters, inflatable knot, no faux-semen.”

The bunny sprawled over a horizontal harness mount and began hooking her hands and feet into the straps. “Green,” she stated, and the straps tightened themselves. The printer opened, revealing her order, with a small jar of white fluid and a squeeze bottle of lube. “Is that mine?” she inquired. “Go ahead and insert it!”

I grabbed the dildo and the jar and dipped the tip of the plastic cock into the fake cum. With a soft squeeze it sucked up the liquid. The printer closed back up and started printing my dildo as I approached the bunny’s inviting rear end. I squeezed some lube onto the dildo, and some more on her asshole, then without further ceremony I shoved the fake dick into her hole. The bunny gasped as it slid inside her, when it was up to the knot I slowly pulled it almost all the way out, only to push it back in. I pushed it in and out again and again, eliciting many more pleased moans from the bunny, and when my dildo was ready I squeezed the knot on hers.

My lupine ears picked up the muffled squirting sound of fake cum streaming into her guts and I shoved the knot into her pucker, leaving it inside her as I turned back to the printer to retrieve my own order. There was no fake cum with my dildo, I wasn’t really a fan of the mess, just lube which I applied liberally to the plastic cock and began sliding it in and out of my hole. The fake cock pressing against my prostate pushed my real cock up against the interior of my cage. I set the dildo’s flared base on the seat of one of the chairs and lowered my ass onto it. When I heard a soft “squeak” I realized that I’d dropped too low and wedged the knot inside my ass already. Embarrassed, I stood up and reached back to try and pull the dildo back out. As I tried to dislodge it the inflated knot tugged at my ring, refusing to relinquish the life-producing organ.

The dildo popped out and I shook my head, where had that thought come from? Was the DMRT already starting to mess with my head? “Hey doggy!” I turned to face the bunny strapped into the mount with her own dildo. “Mind giving me a hand?”

I squeezed my fingers into the tight gap between her muscles and the dildo, squeezing the knot as best I could. With a wet squelching sound it slowly deflated and came back out. “Want some more action?” I inquired. The bunny nodded and I pumped the fake cock in and out another time, then stopped. “How about you give me something in return?”

She whispered “red,” and the straps around her limbs loosened. I leaned over the mattress with my tail raised as the bunny stood up, picked up my dildo and walked up behind my offered posterior. She poked my cheeks lightly with the fake cock.

“Come on,” I muttered. “Give it to me already.”

My ring opened for the protruding plastic piece. I gasped from the mild pain of friction in my colon, apparently that cheap lube was drying out already. It touched my prostate and I moaned with rising pleasure. As she thrust it in and out over and over again I felt my cock pressing against my cage until, with a pop, I felt it come loose.

My erect dick flopped out, dangling above the mattress. I felt the bunny flick it with her finger, “I know you said that it had been a while since you took any E, but you’re still the biggest DMRT user I’ve ever seen.” She started to wrap her fingers around my shaft, which combined with the dildo brought me almost to the edge. “I know it’s against club rules, but would you like one last “send-off” to your erection?”

I tensed up, “what do you mean by “last send-off?” It only lasts a week, doesn’t it?”

“No,” she released my dick and jumped back. “The full alterations take a week to take effect, but from then it’s permanent.”

I dropped to the bed and rolled onto my back to face her. “What do you mean it’s permanent? That’s not what that rat said!”

“She…” the bunny tried to think for a moment. “Yeah, she didn’t explain it that well. But it’s a genetic alteration, your nuts will partially transform into ovaries.”

“WHAT?!” I exclaimed in disbelief.

“You won’t be able to get pregnant, unfortunately.” She rubbed her stomach, which I noticed was slightly bulged out with the fake semen from her dildo. “But your boobs and hips will grow fast. There’s some growth accelerators mixed in as well.”

“I…” I trailed off, trying to find the words for my unfortunate situation. “I need to find that rat!”

I ran for the door and flung it open, tearing down the stairs heedless of my unclothed state. Around the dance floor I raced, looking for any sign of the DMRT dealer. I scanned the crowd repeatedly, spotting dozens of scantily clad lions, tigers, bears, and equines, among others, but no rats. Getting increasingly desperate I crashed through the crowd, bumping into dancers as I went.

“Hey, she’s not caged!” somebody shouted and pointed. I could feel everyone around me turning to stare at my naked body, dressed in nothing but leggings. I started to head back up the stairs to try and retrieve my clothes, but I found myself blocked by two walls of estrogen-laded muscle.

I held my arms up in a gesture of placation, “I just need to get my clothes and cage from the room.”

The bear guard snorted. “So what are you doing out here?”

“I’m looking for someone,” I claimed.

“And you couldn’t take five seconds to buckle on your cage?” the elk guard retorted. “Come to think of it, you're not supposed to take your cage off in the private rooms either.” She clamped a hoof around my arm. “Let’s go Aidan.”

“Wait!” I objected. “I can’t leave yet, I need to find this rat before it becomes permanent!” The bear grabbed my other arm and the two guards started to drag me off towards the entrance, kicking and screaming.

As I was yanked to the door I thought I spotted the pinky bunny wriggling her way through the crowd in our direction. But before she could reach me the guards heaved and tossed me straight through the open door. I skidded across the sidewalk, scraping my back on the pavement.

Quickly I jumped back to my feet, trying to retain some measure of my dignity. Around me passers-by either turned to look, half of them turning back when they saw my nudity. “You could at least give me back my-” I was cut off by a wad of multi-colored fabric to the face. As I stepped back into my skirt and secured it I continued snarling. “And your rental cages are crap too!”

I spun on my heels and walked away from Club Crossed, slowly coming to realize that I would probably never be allowed back there again.

—

Eventually I found a late bus and transferred across multiple lines until I made my way back to my apartment. My dreams that night were strange, visions of being bred by big, burly wolves and stags with breasts as impressive as their antlers. I felt my stomach swelling with my varied lovers’ pups… and then my alarm woke me up to get ready for work.

I slammed the “snooze” button and stumbled out of bed to the shower. I pissed into the toilet built into the tiny stall in the corner of my studio apartment, glad that I didn’t suffer from “morning wood” this time, despite the kinkiness of my dream. With that essential function taken care of, I tugged my sleep shirt off over my shoulders, and my ears perked up as I noticed something in the mirror.

The area around my nipples had swollen and rounded, not that large, maybe an A or small B cup, but they had certainly grown. I raised a hand to one of my breasts and squeezed experimentally. It was firmer than before, not like muscle, but more like there was a ball of fluid under the skin. I pinched the nipple, expecting pain but it was mitigated by a spark of pleasure, like someone was tugging on my cock.

Remembering what that rat had said about the other effects I picked up my limp dick, already it looked smaller than before. I gripped it with one hand and pulled, rubbing it back and forth like I’d done a million times before. It took an uncomfortably long time, but it eventually got hard, and I kept rubbing in an attempt to make it cum. But nothing was coming out.

I tried visualizing my usual fantasies, but it still failed to cum. Spitroasted by bears, threesome with androgynous twins, nothing seemed to work! Grudgingly, I remembered how pleasurable getting my nipple squeezed seemed to be. With my free hand I pinched my swollen breast, rubbing the firm but tender flesh while I continued trying to jerk off. After about a minute of such tandem rubbing a small stream of barely cloudy fluid shot out of my tip and made a pathetic little splatter on the wall.

“I should’ve let her jerk me off,” I grumbled as I turned on the shower and washed the stain away. As I scrubbed my fur of night funk I considered how I might try to hide my new developments from my coworkers. Maybe some trans guys would have posted ideas to the net?

—

A crude home-made binder of gauze wraps worked for the first couple days, though it left me a little short of breath. But on the third morning after the injection my breasts had grown to C cups and I had to swipe a sports bra from the athletics section. There were some advantages to working retail at a store too cheap to automate, with any luck nobody would bother checking my transactions. After four days my breasts were at least D cups, but that wasn’t the worst part.

My asshole seemed to have acquired some sort of itch, an itch that was only satisfied when something was inside. At first I could relieve it with just an hour or so with a dildo, but every day those sessions got longer and longer. Eventually I had to insert a butt plug and leave it in there just to get through the day. And even then I was getting distracted, every time an even moderately attractive guy passed by I found myself turning to stare, my brain too full of thoughts of their dick in my non-existent pussy, filling me to the brim.

My performance at work suffered as a result of my constant distraction, like I was in heat all the time but without the hole for it. By the end of the week my breasts were big EE pendulums just barely held up by a bra that cost me a full week’s pay. It wasn’t just my chest that changed though. My ass was well-padded as well, my hips had more than doubled in width, none of my pants could fit anymore. I was forced to wear my looser skirts by the middle of the week, a couple days later even those were draping over my cheeks and giving everyone behind me a show. After buying an entire new wardrobe my bank account was starting to run thin. At the very least my butt was covering my shrunken man-tackle, not that it could make up for the loss of my potence.

At the end of the week my growth, and shrinkage, appeared to have slowed to a halt. As I measured myself with my mirror that evening the thought of returning to Crossed came to mind. With my foot-thick thighs, melon-sized breasts, and inch-long limp dick I could almost imagine that they wouldn’t recognize me this time.

I found a pink frilly skirt that was wide enough to just barely cover my thirsty derriere and a fishnet top that could stretch over my breasts. A used trenchcoat covered everything during the bus trip, but my front and back stuck out so far that I looked like I was constantly slouching. When the Crossed crowd got off the bus I stayed on for another stop, I didn’t want to have an audience when I faced the guards.

After walking what felt like half the city to the club I saw another crowd getting sorted in and ducked into an alley. I waited until the group had filed in, took a step towards the club, then stopped. Had it been long enough? Would they let me in? Or was I permanently banned? It took me a solid five minutes to make up my mind.

Before I could chicken out I raced across the street to the club entrance. The same two guards from my last visit stood outside the door and turned to stare at me as I approached. I started unbuttoning my coat but the elk interrupted me. “So you finally decided to show back up here?”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, “I’m sorry about last week. But look at what happened to me!” I threw open my trenchcoat, showing off my newly grown curves to both guards.

The elk guard looked me up and down carefully. “That’s nice, but you still broke the club rules.”

“So cage me up tight,” I pleaded. “Cage me permanently, I don’t care. It’s not like that thing will do me any good anymore.”

The two guards looked at each other for a few moments, then the elk grabbed me by the arm. “I think there might be something we could do.”

She dragged me through the front door to a side room by the hall to the dance floor. Inside were a series of racks holding all sorts of chastity cages, various shapes and sizes ready for wearers. She pointed to an array of cages, eventually settling on a heavy black synth-leather belt with an electronic lock. She pulled me forward and flipped up my skirt, then yanked my panties off with enough force to snap them.

I winced as the elastic broke against my shrunken, but still sensitive balls. “Is that really necessary?” I asked.

She slid the belt around my waist and cinched it up so tight I had to take in a breath. The cage sealed itself around my cock and balls, feeling… warm? Before I could ask for an explanation I felt the plug in my butt coming out. “Oh, someone’s got a thirsty ass,” she taunted.

“It’s the DMRT,” I suggested. “It makes me feel like I’m in heat or something.”

“Hmph,” the elk snorted. “Well let’s see how long you can go without.” She pressed her thumb to the electronic lock and it clicked shut. “There, only I can open it now.”

I stared up at the giant elk as she stood back up straight and tossed my buttplug into a trash can. “How long shall I wear it?”

“As long as I want you to,” she replied. “The bio-synthetic components will feed on your sweat and other fluids, and it has eelware to power the electronics indefinitely.”

“Indefinitely?” I said with dawning horror. “So I could be wearing this forever?”

“Yep,” she tapped my crotch plate. I felt it squirm with a tingle of electricity. “And don’t try to force it off, or it’ll defend itself.” She held a reader to my chip and I heard a beep. “Congratulations, you’re now a premium member.”

I looked down at the cage secured tightly over my useless crotch, it began to sink in that I would never use my cock again. “Can I…” I stammered. “Can I go now?”

“You just got here,” she waved at the door to the storage room, leading into the club from which I could hear the dance music. “Why not enjoy yourself missy?”

I stood there, frozen, unsure of whether I could handle the club already. I could smell the sex and booze wafting from the dance floor, setting my asshole itching again. I found myself striding towards the club proper, propelled forwards by my bountiful ass. Most of the usual crowd were there; multicolored zebras and effeminate foxes weaving around each other, showing off their artificial boobage and sealed groins.

A familiar face turned towards me and perked up her long ears in excitement. “Hey, you’re back!” the pink bunny bounded towards me. “I thought you’d left for good.”

I scanned her quickly. Her breasts and hips, already a pretty good size before, had grown almost as large as my own. “Looks like the DMRT treated you well,” I commented.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Looks like it…” she trailed off. “Oh, sorry. How are you holding up, uh…”

“Aidan,” I answered. I cupped my EE cups. “These were a bit difficult to get used to. Do you feel like you’re in heat too?”

“I’m Cherry,” the bunny replied. “Heat? Well, I feel a bit hornier than usual but rabbits don’t have a heat cycle.” She seemed to be thinking about it for a minute. “How about we ask Laura?”

“Laura?” I inquired.

“Sure, she’s got a booth right over here,” Cherry led me towards the booths lining the far wall. A pair of giddy-looking felines left the corner booth, momentarily blocking my view as we approached. But then I saw her.

“You!” I shouted at the white rat sitting in the innermost corner of the booth.

“Yes?” the rat asked, clutching her purse full of drugs.

“You didn’t tell me this would be permanent,” I held my hands under my boobs to accentuate my new curves.

“Laura, she’s the wolf who got DMRT right after me,” Cherry added. “The one who was still questioning. Remember?”

“Sorry,” Laura rubbed her forehead in exasperation. “I’m terrible with faces. Inconvenient for someone who deals with body-altering chemicals.” Her eyebrow perked up as she realized something. “Wait, you’re why the club’s making me rent this booth, aren’t you?”

“Rent?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah, they made a bunch of new rules,” Laura explained. “I can only administer drugs here, in plain sight of the security cameras,” she pointed at a dome on the ceiling above us. “I have to go through a script to make sure my customers are fully aware of what they’re getting into, and pay the club a percentage of my sales.” The rat sighed, “I had to double my prices.”

“Well they should have done that earlier,” I retorted. “So it’s really permanent?”

Laura’s eyes rolled back as she thought, “well, I suppose you could get your testes replaced. But unless you have a sample of your pre-DMRT DNA any cloned gonads would come out as ovaries.”

“I don’t think so,” I tried to remember if there might be anyone who retained a DNA sample from me. “How much would that cost anyways?”

“Depends on how many organs you want to clone,” Laura explained. “At least a few thousand, they mass-produce some cloned organs as sex toys but this would have to be a custom job.”

I fell back into the booth’s seats, the pressure slightly relieving my asshole itch. I’d already spent so much on my new wardrobe and the membership for the club. There was no way I could afford that kind of procedure.

Cherry sat down next to me, laying a comforting arm around me. “What about heat cycles?” she asked. “Does DRMT do anything special to species with heat?”

“Oh, oh oh oh!” Laura exclaimed. “After switching hormone production it supercharges estrogen and progesterone production. Canines only produce a significant amount of estrogen and progesterone once or twice a year, the effect would be like being in heat.”

At the reminder of my heat I found myself squirming in my seat, I was truly feeling the absence of the plug that the elk had taken. “Is there any way to relieve it?” I asked, almost begging.

Laura thought some more, “maybe I could come up with a serum to lower your hormone production. But in the meantime a hard sex session should relieve you for a few hours at least?”

I sighed, “well,” I turned to Cherry. “Shall we check out another sex room? I should still have a few credits left.”

“Actually,” the bunny started to smile suspiciously. “I have another idea. You see that stage?”

I glanced over at the stage where the DJ was working, I noticed a rather large open space to her left. Sometimes there were performers on stage, dancing and more, but I hadn’t seen any in a while. “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

She explained what she was thinking, I gave it a little thought before getting up to follow her up to the stage. Cherry spoke to the DJ, who nodded and then toggled a few switches off to the side of her turntable. There was a whirring sound behind us and I spun around to spot a pair of stripper poles rising out of hatches in the stage floor, with pulsating cocks hanging off the sides.

Me and Cherry stepped up to the poles, flipping our skirts repeatedly as we strode. “Ladies and femboys!” the DJ announced. “Here to demonstrate how to have a good time without a cock. Wolf and Rabbit!”

I cast aside my trenchcoat, showing off my skirt and fishnet top, and draped my leg over the pole while gripping it tightly in both hands. The pole rotated as I tried to climb it, throwing me off-balance for but a moment. I grabbed the one handhold mounted on the pole, the dildo.

Only it didn’t feel like the normal 3D-printed plastic dildos I was used to. It felt like flesh, warm, sticky, sweaty man meat. I realized this must be one of those cloned sex toys Laura had mentioned. It throbbed in my hand, just like a real dick, and I knew what I must do.

I tugged up and down on the cloned cock, the momentum sending me rocking left and right as I gave the half-alive machine a handjob. My grip began to slip as the cock sweated, a sort of organic lube that made it harder for me to keep hold. I felt my hormones rising in response to the big virile cock in my hand, I had to take it in my hole! Let it fill me with its potent seed.

Frustrated with how my skirt was restricting my movement I shoved it down. The fabric bunched around my calves and I stepped out of it with my left foot, then kicked it into the crowd with my right foot, prompting cheers and excitement from the club-goers. I turned around, holding myself up to stand with my back to the pole, showing off my caged crotch and swollen tits poking through their net. I could feel the dick poking into my back, wet with salty clone-lube, and tried to work my ass onto it.

It poked between my cheeks, a hot dog nestling in a bun, but I needed it to go deeper. Cautiously, I reached one hand down to guide the cock into my hole. Blind and trying to hold myself up against a gliding pole with one hand, it took far too much fumbling and finagling before I finally felt the fleshy tip enter my burning ring. I moaned in relief as it began to soothe my itch, backing up to bury the rod up to its nut-less hilt. And then I pulled away, letting the cock slip out almost to the tip… and slammed my giant ass into the pole it was mounted upon. The momentum sent me spinning, giving my cheering fans a full view of my motions as I completed one revolution after another.

Just as my arms felt like they were about to fail, I felt the base of the cloned cock swell in my colon. A synthetic knot to hold me tight. I let my hands drop to my sides as the knot held me, ass pressed to the pole, swinging around in a circle. I felt something hot, wet, and sticky spurt out of the biosynthetic toy and into my belly. My lower guts felt sloshy as I tried to stand up straight again, and I saw my abdomen begin to swell. At first the bulge was barely noticeable, but soon it had grown to the size of a baseball, and then a football! I could almost imagine that I was pregnant with the pups of whatever shlub had donated the genes to produce this cock.

I swung and spun, taking advantage of the flexibility of canine ties, while my belly sloshed with synthetic semen. Time slipped by, I lost track of how long this knot had lasted and I didn’t care, I wanted it to last forever. But eventually it did end.

The music reached a crescendo and finale, and the knot in my ass deflated. I found my feet again and reluctantly pulled off of it, cum spilling out of my hole and onto the floor. I tried to hold it in, but without the knot my guts could only maintain so much pressure.

“Have fun?” I looked up from my swollen belly to Cherry, cradling an equally bloated gut.

“That was amazing,” I replied. “Not just the sex, but showing it to everyone.”

“Great,” the bunny waddled to the edge of the stage. I noticed that the crowd was starting to thin out, how late in the night, or early in the morning, was it now? “Ready to collect your tips?”

“My what?” I waddled after her to a terminal at the bar. She pressed her hand to the terminal and a three digit number appeared.

“Your fans showing their appreciation,” Cherry pulled her hand back and gestured for me to put my hand on the terminal next.

I did and another three digit number appeared. I read the small text underneath the number and blinked, unbelieving. “Gratuity payout to Aidan Hunt.”

“That’s a quarter of what I make in a week!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Cherry commented. “It’s more than what I made for my first dance too. You’ll be able to afford that surgery in now time!”

“Surgery,” I thought, still in something of a daze. “Or something.”

—

A year later, I strode confidently back into Crossed, coat stretched over my bodacious body. The elk bouncer stopped me as I reached for the door and I gave her a smirk, “oh come on Ellie? Do we really need to keep doing this?”

“Just procedure,” she replied. She flipped aside my coat and skirt and gave a quick look at the cage that had been locked tight around my crotch for the past twelve months. With a nod she waved me in. “Knock ‘em dead.”

As I passed through the doors I noticed that everyone in the hallway, save for the guards, had a pair of melons growing out of their chests and an ass the size of a beachball. The beats of the dance floor preceded the wafting scent of sex and alcohol. The scent of estrogen gel had faded almost to nothing in the past year, replaced by the more muted scent of internally-produced hormones.

I stopped by Laura’s booth on my way to the stage, noticing that she looked bored. “Business doing well?” I suggested.

“Not lately,” she sighed. “It seems like everyone here who’s going to get it took the DRMT. I’m starting to see why the corpos prefer to sell simple hormones.”

“Maybe you should find a trans masculine club,” I suggested. “I’d be sorry to see you go though.”

“Really? After what I did to you?” She seemed surprised. “Did you ever find that sample?”

I shook my head, “nope. And I don’t care.” I tossed my coat into her booth, showing off the harness slung from my breasts to my cage, with space for my belly to swell with synth cum. I turned back to the stage, in addition to the poles with cocks there were some new features, including something that looked vaguely like a rubberized octopus. “This is my life now!”