FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Buzzing lights, typing on keyboards, phones ringing, printers printing. The smell of sanitizer wafting through the entire office, the air conditioner blowing cool air to combat the rising heat of spring. Yup, it was a Monday at the office alright.

George was busy typing away at his desktop, a clunky Windows 98 that ran like shit. His office cubicle was cluttered with the usual office supplies, post-it notes and Dilbert comic strips that he clipped out of the morning paper. He groaned as the clunky monitor froze as it was trying to boot up the latest program. It was the year 2000 after all, why did the company seem like it was years behind everyone else?

“Heeeey there neighbor," came a voice from right behind his ear.

Swiveling in his chair, George turned to see Casey, his co-worker, standing there. He was holding his usual coffee mug, embroidered with the phrase “Coffee Makes Me Poop." George smiled, adjusting his designer checkered tie that Casey had gotten him at the Christmas party.

“Hey Casey. Trying to update this old thing to the latest software. "

His jovial co-worker smirked, taking a sip from his mug, “You think this one will destroy the world like Y2K?"

George stifled a laugh, it had only been a few months since that whole debacle. Everyone seriously thought the world was going to end because of a computer glitch, saying that nuclear missiles would launch and destroy them all. It was to the point people were buying survival kits and building bunkers. And when December 31st turned over to January 1st, nothing had happened.

“Honestly I would've been fine with the world ending, which means that Mondays would be gone forever," Casey mused.

“I knew it was all bunk, as if computers are going to be the end of humanity," George replied.

There was a ping on the desktop, the usual 'You've Got Mail' vocal message.

“Say, looks like you've got mail," Casey pointed out helpfully, “Anyways I gotta finish up those reports for the boss, talk to you at lunch."

As Casey turned and left his cubicle space, George turned to his computer. The update had finished downloading, and he went to check his email. Opening the client, he saw the first email highlighted at the top. The subject line read “Important Message" and when he clicked on it, there was a file attached along with the message:

“IMPORTANT DOCUMENT ENCLOSED. PLEASE READ URGENTLY."

It was from his boss, Carl. George raised a brow, he had been warned about suspicious emails, but at the same time this wasn't entirely uncommon for Carl to just shove a load of files to the employees without any sort of formality. He figured it wouldn't hurt, it was a text file after all, what was the worst it could do?

Double clicking on the text file, the contents opened in the file reader. George was instantly blindsided by what he saw. It was a full-blown picture of a horse's ass, right in the middle of taking a massive dump. Red text overlaid the image.

“TIME FOR YOUR LIVES TO BECOME MORE STABLE!"

George swore he could smell the horse's manure through the screen, and he fumbled the mouse as he desperately tried to close the window before the image settled permanently into his brain. The middle aged man felt queasy as he managed to close the image and he bent double in his chair.

What the fuck, somebody sent a picture of a shitting horse around as a sick joke? It wasn't a very funny one at that. It didn't seem like something Carl would do, perhaps it was some kind of virus email? He had heard about these sorts of things, but hadn't experienced one for himself yet.

Sweat was pouring from George's face, and he was beginning to feel unwell. The picture of the horse's ass was still burned in his mind's eye, as clear and lucid as if he were still staring at it now. The sense of dizziness and nausea was starting to overwhelm him, and he practically fell out of his chair. An overpowering thunder down under was filling his gut, and if he didn't make it to the bathroom right away he was going to make a mess of his cubicle.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…I think I'm gonna shit myself…"

Practically stumbling from his chair, George was disoriented and dizzy as he made his way to the men's room. As he passed by Stacey, the receptionist, there was an overpowering urge to flatulate, and before he could stop himself his hole opened and--

FFRRRRBT!

The fart was pretty violent, and it wasn't silent either, and George could swear something else came out of his butt aside from gas. Stacey looked up in disgust as the humiliated office worker waddled to the bathroom. He was barely able to make it to the stall and slam the door: his stomach was hurting more and more.

“Ugh, was it last night's dinner that's causing this? Do I have food poisoning or something?"

George undid his belt and dropped his pants before sitting down on the porcelain seat. Something immediately didn't feel right, there was a bump at the base of his tailbone that hadn't been there before. He reached around and felt the spot and immediately blanched: it felt hairy.

“Oh my god, what the hell…is this a…tail?!"

It had to be some kind of prank, but when George pulled at the hairy growth, it tugged hard against his skin, like he was pulling an appendage. The tail suddenly grew even longer, like a piece of putty pushing through a machine, and soon it was just long enough to dangle from the toilet seat. Sweat was now pouring heavily from George's forehead, soaking his shirt. But what he saw next sent a surge of horror through his veins.

He wasn't extraordinary in the cock department, George's penis was of average size and girth for a man his age. But now it was darkening, becoming a thick brown, and extending out longer and longer. The shape of his head was now morphing into a thick circular shaped head, and it had a ring in the middle. George had never seen anything like it before: too transfixed at his own member to even call for help. But suddenly, an image flashed into his mind.

It was the picture from the email: while the horse had been shitting in the pic, its cock was also prominent. George now knew: he had a horse's tail and a horse's cock.

PBBBBBBBLLLLLLTTTT!!

“A-AHHGHNEIGH!"

A gutteral sound croaked out of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a whinny; his stomach was flaring up and now he was stuck on the toilet. Huffing and straining, the mess was building faster than he could manage, and soon the bathroom was filled with the sounds of splashing. George was dropping turds into the bowl like how a war plane drops bombs: they were so big his asshole had to stretch to accommodate the shit.

PLOP! PRRRT! SPLASH! POOT!

Sweat was now flowing freely from his forehead, and when he went to wipe his face, he saw that the changes were spreading: his arm was now coated in a thin layer of white hair.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!"

From his cock, his pubes had receded away to make room for the new brown fur that was spreading across his groin. The brown fur continued to spread like an ember across paper, but when it reached down to his legs, it changed from brown to white, reaching his ankles. George's body locked into place, leaving him unable to stand up and flee. George could feel his face stretching out, nostrils flaring as the ungodly smell of horse shit drove into his olfactory senses. There was a crick in his neck, and he felt it growing longer, his black hair fusing to it to become a mane. His ass felt like two balloons blowing up, and in between dropping turds, he ripped out another gigantic fart.

PHBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLTTTT!

The entire bathroom shook as the ghastly sound echoed across the tiles. The intense sulfurous smell was making him dizzy, but his arms felt like they were locked into straight lines, and he couldn't fan the smell away. More and more horse shit was plopping into the bowl, and soon enough the splashing sounds stopped. George had filled the toilet bowl so much, the water had been completely lost until the reeking pile he was creating. In some desperate motion, he tried to reach for the flusher, but instead of his fingers brushing the handle, it felt like his hand was a fist, disconnected from his arm. The fingers on both of his hands were fusing together, darkening and hardening into thick horse hooves. The designer shoes George had recently gotten for Christmas were shredded as his feet burst out: his feet were warping and turning into hooves just as his hands had.

“SOMEONE HELP ME! I'M TURNING INTO A HORRRRNEEEIIIIGGGGH!!!!"

George gasped as his face stretched out; and a gigantic nose filled his vision. It didn't matter, because soon the view of the stall became wider and wider, and he could see the entire space with little effort. His teeth grew longer, his nose becoming wider and allowing the shit smell to permeate even more. More logs continued to spill out of his ass, but now he felt the mess touching: he had filled the bowl so high it was cresting past the seat. George felt one final rush of energy as his body surged, and his shirt exploded off of his shoulders, leaving only his tie dangling uselessly from his extending neck.

The energy from the transformation soared right into the tip of his massive horse cock, arousal flooded his senses, and before he could stop himself, the equine came. Several powerful jets of horse spunk fired out of the tip and splashed violently across the stall door, painting the basic gray a creamy white. His body spasmed, releasing a final log that mashed messily against his ass. The toilet was ruined, semen was dripping from the door, and George was now a horse. He couldn't stand up, couldn't flush, couldn't reach out to unlock the stall to escape. Now that the transformation was over, a clarifying thought entered his mind.

That freaking email caused this!

Panic enveloped the new equine's mind as he now felt extremely claustrophobic: he needed to get out of this stall immediately! He felt forward, slamming against the door and getting his cum all over his sides. George whinnied in dismay as he tried to move around in the cramped space, turning around so his back was to the stall door. Without hands or fingers to unlock the stall, the only way out was to kick the door down. Placing his hooves on the toilet, George got an eyeful of the ruined toilet and the green-brown shit he had filled it with and nearly gagged. He wasn't sure if horses could vomit, but he didn't want to find out. Putting his weight on the porcelain, George bucked his hindlegs and kicked as hard as he could.

CRACK!

The stall door caved a little, but still didn't open. George pressed harder and kicked again. This time he definitely felt a give as a giant split appeared across the door.

SLAM!

One more and I'll be able to get out of here…

The chestnut horse kicked one more time, and the door shattered. At the same time, the toilet couldn't handle the weight he was putting on it and broke right off the wall. All of the shit he had filled immediately splattered onto the floor as the pipe began to spray violently from the wall, shooting the mess right into George's face. The horse whinnied in despair as he practically threw himself out of the ruined stall, crashing into the sinks and breaking them as well. The pipes shot out water at a high velocity as the room immediately began to flood, and the new horse scrambled towards the bathroom door. Thank god that they opened by pushing them and didn't have handles, meaning the horse could easily slip out of the space with ease.

Trotting on all fours came weirdly naturally, and George managed walking on all fours straight back into the office, the only identifier of who he was was the tie that somehow managed to still hang from his neck. He had been so panicked that he didn't stop to think what his coworkers would say about a horse being in the office, but after looking around with his new field of vision, he realized that point was becoming moot.

Across all of the computer screens, the same image of the shitting horse with the words 'TIME FOR YOUR LIVES TO BECOME MORE STABLE!"

George realized for the first time: he wasn't alone. Across the entire office, all of his co-workers were transforming into horses as well. Stacey, the receptionist was nearly transformed into a blonde horse, desperately kicking and whinnying as she destroyed her desk. A few of the accountants were on the floor, writhing as their bodies morphed into equine. And George could see Casey, now a black stallion, his “Coffee Makes Me Poop" mug spilled onto the carpet, recklessly smashing the cubicles and desks as he thrashed around in a panic.

The smell of manure was worse here; because on top of transforming, everyone who was turning into a horse were also shitting themselves. Casey was dropping massive turds that would forever stain the carpeting, some who were sitting at their desks were filling their pants and underwear, which would rip and fall messily to the ground as their bodies outgrew their clothes. Stacey, whose butt was right next to George's face, let off a particularly big fart right into his nostrils.

PBBBTTT! SPLORCH! SPLAT! PBBBTTTT!

Throughout all of the pandemonium and chaos, another clarifying thought breached through George's mind. The email must've been a computer virus, and somehow the image was causing all of this to happen. If George and everyone in this office were infected this quickly, who knew how far and how fast it would spread.

I guess computers really are going to cause the end of humanity.

At that moment, Carl stepped off the elevator and stopped short when he saw what had happened. The office was a reeking mess, there were horses everywhere, destroying company property, and shit and semen was laying all over the floor. The boss blinked, glancing at a picture of a shitting horse on a nearby monitor, before deciding he would take an extra hour for lunch.

As the elevator doors closed, Carl felt a slight pain in his gut and tailbone. He let out a soft fart, unaware of the tail that was beginning to snake down his pants…

---

“Hello this is the 6 o'clock news. Reports are coming in from the Johnson Tech Firm; it would appear that every employee has somehow been transformed into a horse. Officers who were exposed to the scene have also been turned, and the entire area has been quarantined. There have been reports of other transformations all across the country. Officials have declared the pandemic may be traced to a suspicious email, as nearly all cases involved said email being opened shortly prior the transformation. The email seems to contain some kind of malignant trojan horse that seems to be responsible for all of this. We are advising all viewers to not open any emails until things are under control. Symptoms of viewing said email include stomach pain, nausea, your body spontaneously turning into a horse, and uncontrollable defecation. If you or your loved ones find yourself turning, officers are advising you to contact your local law enforcement if you are still able to use a phone. I repeat: do not open suspicious emails unless you want to become a horse. This has been the 6 o'clock news, stay safe, stay human, good night."