FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

By MaantaaBeast

---

Brogan stepped out of his car, into the wide-open summer night. A warm breeze coursed over rolling hills of soft, thick grass that stretched as far as the eye could see in the darkest green. Brogan still had a long way to drive, but the night was inviting; how could a bull deny those beautiful fields forever?

He looked up at the sky, cloudless, an endless stretch of stars and silvery ribbons in the galactic arm, no light pollution to drown any of it out. Even the fields were small compared to space, so Brogan himself had to be truly minuscule. He laughed at himself; of all things, Brogan was never called 'small'. While he was pretty tall, it was his heft that made him remarkable. Warm, heavy fat ensconced his entire body in rolls, lay thick on his thighs and arms, and filled his breasts into heavy, enticing pillows. Sometimes his chest even grew fuller with milk, as had been happening lately.

With all the time on the road, he hadn't been able to tend to that, and his shirt had wet spots over his soft nipples. He glanced back and forth, to be sure the road was empty, and tugged off the shirt. His belly and love handles jostled against each other, even sending ripples up into his neck chub and the fat chins under his broad snout. The wind brushed his soft fur, from the warm reddish-brown base to the cream splotches that accented his face, belly, and thighs.

A big smile broke over his full cheeks at the feeling, and despite his nervousness about doing so out in the open, he reached down to unbutton his pants. He huffed and hefted up his belly, quite a task for his tubby arms, and opened the zipper. He tried to bend down over his middle, but the mounds of his own fat made it impossible. Brogan sighed and went to sit on the hood of his car, causing it to lower down onto its wheels. He nudged and wiggled his pants off, leaving just a pair of soft boxer briefs over his decadent, bubbly rump, white fabric crisscrossed with gray and black in a cute plaid pattern.

He hopped down and flicked his tail happily as he stepped into the grass. He hadn't run in a little while, but after a minute of walking, he started to skip and dance through the hills. Something about the feel of the grass between his big toes, the fresh plains air in his lungs, roused a natural joy in his gentle bull brain. His fat body jiggled from his chest to his thighs, every soft inch of him feeling at home in these wonderful fields.

Brogan let out a bright, content, "Mooooo!" into the night. Each deep breath came with another lowing, as the thought of where he needed to drive melted away and he embraced his place in these hills, just a big cow in love with the world around him.

However, it didn't take long for all his weight to catch up to his leaping joy, and he fell onto his back in the grass, catching his breath in big, grateful inhales. "Moooo," He called, softly. His arms reached out to either side of him, his body spreading like batter over the ground.

He watched the sky, looking for his favorite constellations, while he rubbed himself against the grass. There was the cat's ladle, the shark king, the dragon warrior, the... wait, what were those stars doing in the two birds? Brogan's eyes narrowed. He knew there were thirteen stars in that one, and yet there he counted twenty. Seven extra, big, bright stars sat right above him in the vault of the sky, arrayed in a symmetrical pattern. He tried to process the sight, nothing but confusion filling his head. Were they just hidden by the light pollution usually? He couldn't believe it; they were so vibrant.

Then, without warning, they moved.

Brogan's calm breaths jumped into panicked gasps, his big heart beating all the bovine blood into his limbs. Those stars spun and descended towards him, their light cascading over the fields, shifting from celestial white to an ever-changing rainbow. He struggled to stand, having to roll himself onto his belly and push back to his knees before he could get all his weight back on his feet. Already exhausted, he started to run, thighs rubbing against each other.

The lights narrowed, all centering upon him as he tried to keep ahead. But in his frightened dash, he didn't notice a small hole in the side of the hill and caught his foot on it. He stumbled, and couldn't possibly stop his hundreds of pounds of blubber from pulling him down to the ground again. He scraped the skin of his belly and cried out, trying to muster the energy to get up again, struggling against the natural habit of his body to lie down instead.

It seemed... easier to lift himself this time. Far too easy. It was as if his weight had suddenly gone from him. Brogan opened his eyes and realized that he wasn't getting to his feet. He was floating, suspended in the light of whatever was above him. He was being pulled, legs first, away from those beautiful hills, into the grasp of something in a strange craft, like a big fat catch. His body rippled as if he was swimming, and with the fright of the chase and the terror of what was reeling him in, the big bull fainted.

Where was he? Brogan tried to move, as the memories poured back into his waking mind. His eyes blinked open and his breath caught, heart racing again in an instant. He lay on a smooth, matte-white table in the middle of a strange, octagonal room. Supporting columns branched and curved almost organically, caressing lights and machinery that were completely unknown to Brogan. The bull struggled to lift himself up on his elbows, the weakness in his body and fuzzy consciousness in his head making him wonder if he was dreaming.

But no, every passing moment made this place more real to him. A strange sensation gripped every inch of his hefty body, though he couldn't name it. He tried to pinpoint what any of the lights on the shiny white walls meant, but ended up just looking at the section that was attached to him; a pair of little nodes sat on his skin, above his chest and on his neck, and connected to a circular array of lights on the near wall. He looked himself over, alarmed, but all seemed to be in place, even the scratches on his stomach where he'd fallen.

After a moment, he realized something about the circular lights close to him. They reacted and shifted with the peaks of his fear, as his heart sped, flashing in a quick circle. If someone - something - was watching that, they'd know he was awake. Brogan had read too many stories about aliens who liked the taste of Earthlings to stay put. He shoved as hard as he could, but whatever weakness had taken his body was too great, combined with the weight of his fat. He managed to roll himself off the side of the soft table, but after landing with a heavy plap and a pained huff, he couldn't possibly get up off his front. He spent a minute or so lying there, images running through his head of all sorts of extra-terrestrial monsters.

However, all that imagining couldn't prepare him for the real deal.

The far wall seemed to dissolve into the air, opening a seamless and sizable entrance, which was utterly dominated by an alien figure. Despite Brogan's heft, he had nothing on this creature. The alien slithered along the floor on a serpentine tail that was dense with corded muscle. His broad hips gave way to a stocky, imposing torso. A pair of massive shoulders, adorned with a brilliant violet frill, ended with two arms on each side; they all bulged with muscle beneath the sleek, scale-like form of his cosmic purple skin.

Three necks extended from him. The largest, in the center, ended in a head that bore a brutal mixture of reptilian and aquatic elements, including a big snout with multiple rows of dagger-sharp teeth. He peered at the world through five eyes, varying in size, in a crescent above his snout, each slitted and engrossing in its swirling silver color. His other two necks ended in small, streamlined heads that had no eyes, but only great slavering jaws and flaring nostrils.

He wore an elegant black loincloth, draped around his hips and the start of his lower half. A pristine silver device sat just below his mouth, thin metal arms reaching across his chin. As his eyes focused on Brogan, deep snarling noises poured from his jaws and seemed to change through some mechanical means, though not into anything recognizable. "•¶¥ˆå¥¨????†? ??©??? ??†? µ?å???." He slithered towards Brogan, great clawed fingers flexing, side-mouths gnashing in clear anticipation. "´??ø˜ ¬¬¬˜å´˜?ˆ? ??¥¥˜˜˜µµ ??."

Brogan panicked and struggled to move as the alien lowered himself to grasp at him with his big hands. "Please! Please, don't!" He blubbered.

The alien laughed and grasped Brogan by the chest and thighs, claws pressing deep into his fat. "?µ???˜??? µµåºªº¬?." He hefted the bull like a hunk of meat and planted him back on the table. "˜?ç?å?®¨? ?˜?嘮© •¶¥•¶? ˜©?¶ ?§§???"

Brogan stared up at the alien's three heads, looming over his fat body. He was utterly helpless.

The alien's jaws split and curled upward, showing off those terrible teeth. Brogan shook and tried to stifle a sob. The alien paused, and he took Brogan by the chin. He was going to bite right into Brogan's neck! He knew it, and a pitiful "Mooo..." escaped his snout.

One of the alien's big claws traced under his chin, but rather than slicing into his chubby flesh, he started to stroke him. He just kept doing that, for minutes, before Brogan calmed down enough to open his tear-filled eyes and look at the alien again.

"?¥¨å?´??•• ¬µ˜?øˆ ??ø•ª ??µ¬?µ?" ?˜˜˜˜˜???, ????¥?˜?˜ˆ?ˆ¨??¨ˆøªª." The alien's snarling voice had cooled into a deep and intimate purring. "?´®? ••ˆ¨?ˆ¨©? ???ˆ¨???" He moved his hand slowly to the side of Brogan's face and caressed his big cheek.

Brogan tried to regain his voice, but could only manage to take a few deep breaths, his whole body shaking.

"¶?•¶??? µ?¨?© ¬¬åß??ˆø." He patted Brogan's neck, teasing the little rolls of blubber. "?¥¨ˆ¨?ª ••?"

The alien gave Brogan a minute to compose himself. The bull sniffled and wiped his eyes dry, though his voice was still shaky. "Aren't you gonna eat me?"

"??ˆ¨???? ¶¶ˆª•? ˜µ¬?¬? eat you?" The alien's voice started to meld into words Brogan understood. The towering creature touched the wall and produced a container of deep pink gel from it. He scooped out a bit onto his fingers and reached down to Brogan's exposed middle.

Brogan couldn't escape the fear that it was some kind of sauce, and this alien was going to dig right into his fattened belly. His muscles tensed at the idea of that much pain. But then, as the alien slathered him with the gel, the small sting of his scratches subsided. Brogan didn't dare move at first, just watching the alien as he tenderly stroked the chubby bull. The alien, for his part, kept a few of his eyes on Brogan, and that deep purr in his throat.

After a few minutes, the alien took Brogan's hand, his smooth scales cool against Brogan's fur, and put his fingers where he'd scratched himself falling on the ground. Those scratches were just gone, leaving tender new skin and even the first little strands of fur growing back in their place.

This time, when the alien spoke, every word made sense. "Soft creatures shouldn't have to be in pain. Do you feel better, young bovine?"

Brogan nodded, still not quite believing that he was out of danger.

"Good." The alien patted his belly, and seemed to follow the jiggle of his fat with his eyes. "Interesting. I was pleased to catch you in the field; of all the bovine specimens I've studied, you have by far the greatest amount of fat, both by percentage and total weight." He said it with a... congratulatory air? Praising?

"Were... were you looking for fat bovines?" Brogan felt like a buffet laid out on this table.

"Oh yes." The alien rubbed his hand all along Brogan's body, trailing his claws along his skin, just hard enough not to pierce it. "Fat male bovines especially; your sort tend to be quite muscular." He beamed down at Brogan. "But then, you are so heavy with adipose. I was very lucky tonight." The alien paused, looking into Brogan's face. "Ah, I have come to recognize the expressions of fear. If I understand your words correctly," He bent down to bring his face close to Brogan's, "you expect me to treat you as food?"

Brogan nodded.

"I did not mean to frighten you." The alien slithered around the table, taking in Brogan's shape. "My kind are indeed the apex predators of our planet. I admit, a creature as helpless and heavy with fat as you is remarkably tempting, but I'm here to understand the beasts of this world, not consume them. You're an intelligent creature, after all; it wouldn't be right. How about this: my name is Vozagar. I am from the very tip of the Orion Spur. All in all, we are practically intragalactic neighbors. Does that make you feel better?"

It was stupid, but honestly, it did. "I guess so." He couldn't have fought back even if Vozagar did want to hurt him, so Brogan tried to trust what he said. He was at least being honest about wanting to... eat... him. "My... my name's Brogan."

Vozagar pulled a glass cylinder from the waist of his loincloth and seemed to spread it in the air until he held a glass tablet in one hand, tapping notes in with his claws. Brogan couldn't make heads or tails of the strange symbols. "Well, you're perfectly safe on this ship, Brogan. I'm going to perform a few examinations on you; I hope you won't mind."

"Examinations?" Brogan put his hands over his stomach nervously. "Like, m-medical stuff?"

"You'll find them somewhat rudimentary," Vozagar said. He pressed a few strange cords onto his fingers that ended in little shiny nodes. "Monitoring machines can be so clinical, don't you think? I prefer a more intimate approach. Particularly for the first specimen I've had the joy of speaking with. Let us begin."

Vozagar traced Brogan's curves. He slowly shifted his hands up the bull's legs, until he rested them on the warm insides of his thighs. "A fine source of body heat. Though certainly not made for agility."

Brogan blushed under his fur.

"Ah," Vozagar inched his fingers up, big claws slipping underneath Brogan's underwear, where his thick bull meat was trying to rise past the fat that usually ensconced it. "You seem to enjoy my hands on your vulnerable areas."

Brogan huffed and tried to look between his own legs, but lying down he couldn't see past the blubbery crests of his moobs and belly. Even so, he felt his dick harden against his boxer briefs. "S-sorry, I just..."

"I understand." Vozagar's three mouths smiled, shiny dark saliva on his teeth. "My species are quite large by nature, many creatures of this planet find us enthralling... if not frightening." He pulled two of his hands away, and with the other two grasped Brogan by the hip and back. "Roll over." He helped Brogan onto his side and ran his hands over the bull's broad ass. He pinched and squeezed, moving all four hands to play with him.

Brogan mooed softly, his tail swishing with the tingling pleasure that Vozagar's hands sent through him. He did tense at the pressure of the alien's claws, though.

"Ah, forgive me. My species have very hardy scales; I sometimes forget just how..." he dragged his fingers up one of Brogan's cheeks, "soft most of you Earthlings are." Vozagar grabbed at the rolls of fat that curved around Brogan's sides. "Do you have any natural predators?"

Brogan glanced over his shoulder at the massive creature manhandling him. He stared at the long teeth and their muscular jaws. "Um, yeah, I mean big cats sometimes. Like cougars... I guess lions and tigers and stuff. Maybe wolves." Brogan was well used to the looks that carnivores gave him. "But anthros don't do that kind of stuff." He usually found predators to be very nice people, even if he made them hungry. This wasn't so different, was it? Well, except that he'd never been undressed on a predator's table before.

"That's good. I doubt you could escape them." Vozagar's hands ranged to Brogan's chest and arms. "The other bulls I've encountered were quite heavy with muscle here. I assume that you don't have to defend yourself."

His touch made Brogan squirm, especially when his fingers brushed against his nipple. He held his breath; what would this alien do if he got milk out of him? "N-no. I've never gotten into a fight before."

Thankfully, Vozagar pulled away. He slithered to the wall and produced a few strange devices. Brogan got the chance to see the alien in full again. His loincloth had shifted, with a hefty bulge now pressing on the dark fabric; no wonder he didn't mind Brogan's arousal. Vozagar placed two small devices in Brogan's palms, and two against the soles of his feet. "Why do you have so much more adipose than muscle mass? Nature of your subspecies? That would mean a fascinating evolutionary niche."

Brogan was grateful for the fur covering his blushing face. He'd been asked that before, with varying degrees of mockery, but never with so much genuine interest. "Um, not really..." He squeezed the little devices, smooth and comforting. "I think my breed is chubbier than usual, but I'm a lot heavier than most guys like me. My parents are both pretty big, dad's stronger than me. He works out, though, and I eat a lot more."

"Personal causes, moreso," Vozagar surmised. "I must imagine you take great pleasure in food."

Brogan nodded. He watched Vozagar approach him, Brogan's neck piled up with folds of fat, squeezed against his chest and making him look puffy as if his head was being smothered.

"And perhaps it's more than that," Vozagar ventured. He stopped beside Brogan and began to caress his belly, tracing his fingers across the soft curve of it, before filling all four hands with the plentiful rolls on Brogan's sides. Brogan let out a quiet huff at the sensation of Vozagar's strong, scaled fingers grasping his heavy fat, the claws reminding him just how stark the difference between them was. If Vozagar wasn't a kind, principled researcher, all of Brogan's blubber would be part of his dinner. "I must wonder what it's like, to be full of warm, heavy padding, covered in all this soft fur of yours. You're far more comforting to touch than anything on my bed. Beyond just the food, do you enjoy your fat?"

Brogan tapped his fingers together, but had his hands pulled apart as Vozagar let go of his flank to grasp his arms instead, teasing the thick, wobbling flesh that filled them like great sacks of flour. "I do," He said quietly, "I like the way it feels when I walk, when it jiggles. And I like to sleep on my side, so I can curl up a little and feel my moobs on each other."

"Moobs?" Vozagar asked, as he released Brogan's arms and descended to his legs. He grabbed Brogan, tugging his thighs to get a good grasp on them, like a butcher.

"Oh, um, it's just a word for..." Brogan scratched near one of his nipples, willing the sore milking need to subside, "for a guy's chest if he's fat enough for it to get all big. Or muscular, I guess." His voice started to falter. "It's like, short for man boobs."

Vozagar kneaded his doughy thighs, and when his claws made Brogan stiffen his muscles, Vozagar didn't even notice under all that fat. He looked at Brogan, then down to the bull's chest, and a sharp hissing laughter escaped his teeth. "Well, then you most certainly have a fine pair of moobs, Brogan. Your breasts are larger than most of the cows I've encountered." He let Brogan's thigh fat plop back onto the table, and slithered up to his shoulders. "Your body must make use of all places it has to store your fat." He reached out.

"Wait," Brogan whimpered.

Vozagar murmured, "It's alright if they're sensitive. I will be as gentle as I can." He wrapped a hand around each of Brogan's breasts and tightened his fingers, making the fat press out between them in desperate crests. Brogan whined, and Vozagar began to speak again, "I must apply pressure to get a proper reading..." he trailed off and lifted one hand, looking into a spot of warm, white fluid on his palm. He leaned forward and investigated Brogan's nipple, around which the fur was damp. "Fascinating. I wasn't aware bulls produced milk."

"Most of us don't," Brogan managed to utter. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Does it hurt to be milked?" Vozagar looked down at him with what Brogan hoped was concern.

"It just gets uncomfortable if I haven't... if it builds up."

"You require regular milking, then." Vozagar nodded. He reached a hand behind Brogan's back and helped him sit up, careful not to jostle his chest. "We will pause our current examination. Can you hold up your weight on your hands and knees?"

He nodded, despite the rapid beat of his heart. "For a little bit." He'd never let someone milk him before, the thought made him feel like a farm animal. It didn't help that this was a giant, muscle-bound alien. He didn't have the nerve to refuse him, though, and shuffled forward until he was on his hands and knees like he'd asked. He couldn't keep his belly from resting on the table, showing off just how massive of a bull he really was.

"You enjoyed this when I began my examinations," Vozagar rubbed a hand against Brogan's wide, bovine ass, stroking in big circles along his plush cheeks. "It will help calm you." He set a metal canister beneath Brogan's chest and brought two of his hands up to work. He used his fourth to pat Brogan's flank comfortingly, and looked the bull in his eyes. "Let me know if I cause too much pain."

"Okay," Brogan murmured, heat growing between his legs with this farm animal treatment. "If I moo or something, that's okay, it doesn't mean it hurts."

"It seems you make such noises when you're in pleasure, so I will try to elicit them." Vozagar grasped Brogan's moobs, their heavy fat eager for his touch. He squeezed and tugged, and the first line of milk dribbled down Brogan's nipple.

Brogan sighed with the tingling relief that flowed through his chest, and he shuffled a little closer to let Vozagar have an easy time. The alien grabbed tighter to Brogan's broad haunches, holding him still while he pumped away at Brogan's moobs. Vozagar traced his thumbs and their thick claws around Brogan's nipples, earning a quiet moan. His other fingers pressed harder and harder into Brogan's soft flesh, pushing pressure deep enough for him to feel it on his muscles beneath the thick layers of fat. "Mooooo," Brogan let out, unable to resist the simple animal satisfaction.

Vozagar continued to manhandle him as milk dripped and poured in little streams down to the waiting canister, filling it with thick, creamy liquid. "You're quite suited to being livestock, aren't you?" He traced one hand down the side of Brogan's belly fat, seeming to evaluate it. Brogan couldn't help but remember Vozagar's temptation to eat him. "Yielding, filled with milk, too fat to fend for yourself. Perhaps you belong in such a situation? I feel that setting you back into the wild would be irresponsible."

Brogan's pleasured moaning took on a worried tone. He looked at Vozagar, whose eyes were boring into his body. Was he going to keep Brogan like cattle? "B-but I have to go home. It's okay, I told you, nobody's going to hunt me or anything."

Vozagar growled something too low for the translator to pick up and stopped his milking. "But you need to be cared for, yes?"

"N-no-" Brogan's words were broken up by an uncomfortable whine, desperate for him to keep milking. "I can handle it... myself..."

"And yet you did not." Vozagar picked up the canister and inspected the milk. He dipped a finger inside, wetting the node on its tip. "Earthling bodies, as those of my species, react differently to the touch of another creature than to your own. Does this extend to your need for milking? Perhaps your body expects that another creature will milk you."

Brogan lowered his head, little bovine ears flicking uncertainly. It was always a chore to milk himself; it took minutes to get started, and even though it felt good, it was a slow process. But with Vozagar, he still had little ripples of pleasure running through his head, the canister was already full, and his body was warm and relaxed. "I'm not livestock..."

Vozagar poured most of the canister into another vessel, but left some. He tipped the canister back and slurped a mouthful past his sharp teeth, leaving a trail of milk down his chin. The silver in his eyes swirled as his frill stretched and shimmered in luminous color. "Not even the cream from a red-jawed grazer is that rich. It seems your milk takes after your body, Brogan." He patted Brogan's flank and watched the rolls of fat ripple around his hand. "It makes sense to me, if you are cared for and milked, then there is no concern about your ability to run or fight. You can simply enjoy comfort with your fat body."

"But..." Brogan whined, his fingers shaking with the discomfort in his chest, "you can't just take me away from Earth."

"I have a responsibility to the creatures I study," Vozagar set the canister beneath Brogan again. "I worry for you, Brogan. And indeed, it seems you enjoy being milked." All five of his eyes settled on Brogan's face, their slit pupils narrow.

Brogan's own eyes were wide, their warm olive color trying to hem in big, scared pupils.

Vozagar only held his steely gaze for so long. He sighed, and returned a hand to Brogan's rump, patting him comfortingly. "I see. I've let my personal desires get in the way of objectivity. You would not be happy, forced to be my livestock. It would be a poor way to commune with our galactic neighbors. I will only tend to you this way if you wish." He reached out and touched Brogan's face. He cupped his soft cheek and stroked him beside the ear, reaching up to scratch his chin with another hand until he got Brogan to smile again.

"Okay, well... I don't know," Brogan said. "But could you please keep milking me?"

"Ah, excellent, then I was correct on your enjoyment." Vozagar returned his hands to Brogan's chest, grinning as his fingers tightened. "Your moobs are quite fine, my fat bovine."

"Thanks." Brogan looked into Vozagar's muscular chest. "Your hands feel really nice."

"Isn't it wonderful, a creature can travel across the spur to pleasure a big, soft bull?" Vozagar continued his milking. For a minute, they were both quiet, Vozagar gazing at him with poorly-disguised desire, Brogan trying not to think about the way he was set on all fours, with Vozagar milking him like a farmer. Or how content he felt like that.

Vozagar got the last few drops from Brogan, kneading his moobs until all that remained was a warm, comfortable tingling on Brogan's skin, and a soft haze in his mind. Brogan leaned his flank against Vozagar and breathed slowly.

"Your body is very warm." Vozagar rubbed his back. "And I am quite fond of the patterning in your fur." He ranged his hands up and down Brogan's body, eventually cupping his face. His strong fingers pressed into Brogan's cheeks, and spread his fat chins like butter. Vozagar stared into his eyes. "Even your face is filled with adipose. Your most recognizable features, defined by it."

"Pretty much all my features are," Brogan murmured.

"So very..." Vozagar seemed to search for the word, "cute." His attention was drawn away by a flickering light on his tablet, and the alien's three mouths smiled. "My scans are complete. Come, let us see your body in depth."

Vozagar helped Brogan to sit up on the table, but as the bull tried to step onto his legs, he began to fall again, grabbing frantically for the alien as his feet gave out from under him.

"Ah, foolishness on my part." Vozagar caught him easily, wrapping one arm around Brogan's chest to hold him up, though it made his fat pile up like a thick comforter around his neck. "Your muscles have not recovered completely from the relaxant. For most, it is not an issue at this point."

Brogan caught his breath. "I have more to carry around."

"Indeed." Vozagar planted one hand on Brogan's ass and slipped two more arms over him, one across his belly, the other beneath it. "Relax, please. It will make this easier." He let out a grunt layered with subtle hissing and hefted brogan up in his arms.

The big bull had imagined a strong man carrying him many times before, but it was always intimately, body held against body. Vozagar let his limbs hang limp beneath him, holding him like cattle. He carried Brogan through an aperture that opened as they approached the wall, entering a large room.

The walls rose high above them, with an array of soft lights overhead illuminating every inch of the space. Vozagar beckoned with his head and part of the floor rose seamlessly into the simple form of a bench. To Brogan's surprise, when the alien set him down, it was soft beneath him as if it was padded. He leaned back and took in the far wall, which was an expanse of dark glass.

"Show us the scan of Brogan's body," Vozagar said. A synthetic voice answered in his alien language, and the lights on the ceiling shifted. They cast down close to the dark screen, which itself came to life with countless tiny points of light. They came together in front of Brogan and Vozagar, creating a three-dimensional figure, nearly identical in shape to the bull, though missing some features. Vozagar turned to Brogan's astonished face and wiggled the fingers of one hand, showing off the little nodes on them. "I hope this isn't uncomfortable for you. Some of my subjects have found this step mildly distressing."

Brogan was about to ask why, when Vozagar touched the hologram on the belly, and motioned with his fingers as if he was cutting. The flesh parted, and he carved out a good portion of Brogan's front, taking the crest of his belly all the way to some of his side rolls. The alien showed the slice to him, "Thin layer of dermis, then pure adipose." His fingers traced down the side of the creamy yellow flesh, "Tallow, I believe, is the term for bovines."

"Mostly for farm animals," Brogan murmured. Despite his embarrassment, his dick was hardening as he watched Vozagar slice through more of his body, evaluating him with those cold, sharp claws. "So, what did you learn about me?"

"Most of your weight is in subcutaneous fat." Vozagar slowly turned the partially-butchered hologram around. "I guessed as much, given the extensive rolls, size of your breasts, and softness of your body in general. But it's good to have in numbers." He pushed into the side of the hologram without a thought, sticking his hand between the organs. "Some visceral fat, but less than expected."

The alien's two side mouths had slick black drool slowly trickling from between their teeth, as Vozagar stared at all that... tallow. Brogan spoke up, if only to distract him, "Those are the two kinds, right?"

Vozagar turned back to him and stroked his chin. "Not quite. I wonder if, given your difficulty recovering from the relaxant, your breed might have a tendency towards extensive intramuscular fat." He sliced the hologram's thigh and forearm until he had strips of muscle and clean cross-sections. A shine came to his eyes as he showed them to Brogan. "Look at that!"

The muscle was more than just surrounded by a massive layer of fat, it was threaded through with the stuff, almost more pale white than red at all, speckled like... marble. Like really expensive beef. Brogan touched his own arm, trying to match the soft, warm flesh to these images. "That's a lot, right?"

"Notice how it pads through your muscle fibers, reducing their capacity to work in unison. It is a good thing you are not required to do manual work, like most of the bulls I've studied. Can you feel the tender texture of your muscle tissue?" Vozagar approached him, and began to fondle his arms.

"I don't think so." Brogan looked up at him with concern. After Vozagar had dissected that hologram, his claws seemed more dangerous. "Can you, um, put the image back together?"

Vozagar looked up. "Ah, yes. I hope it has not disturbed you." He flicked his fingers, and all the disparate parts fit back together. Over the next few minutes, he evaluated the feel of Brogan's muscles, as much as he could beneath their padding, anyway. "Your actual body will come to no such harm, I assure you." He softened his touch on Brogan's arms and began to feel his thighs as well, all four hands moving gently as they teased and jiggled his fat. "In fact," Vozagar flicked one of his heads to the side and the hologram vanished, "I am interested in your comfort, and pleasure. My scans are lacking information on your most sensitive areas." His claws tapped on Brogan's underwear, while his own loincloth was lifted by the rigid flesh underneath. "And most crucially, I have no qualitative data on the sexuality of bulls. Would you like to help expand my knowledge of such things?"

Brogan was at a loss for words for a moment, until he felt Vozagar's hand drift to the small of his back, fingers trailing between his rolls of fat until they could pinch and play with the base of his tail, and he looked into the alien's eager eyes. "Anything for science."

Vozagar lifted enough of the floor to make a bed and pressed Brogan down until he was lying flat on his back. He slithered over to Brogan's legs and bent down, his hands creeping up along the inside of his thighs. Brogan tried to see what Vozagar was doing, but his own heavy body completely obscured it.

The alien's claws found the elastic of his boxer briefs, buried beneath his stomach, and he tugged down, peeling the fabric away from the bull's meaty hips. "Subject has already begun to leak sexual fluid," Vozagar murmured to himself, brushing one of his finger nodes against the precum stain on the front of Brogan's underwear.

"S-sorry..." Brogan said. "You've just been touching me so much."

"Your body is preparing for contact." Vozagar rose, towering over Brogan until his hips were above the bull's fat-laden middle. "My species is similar in sexual structure to yours." He reached behind his back and untied his loincloth, letting the dark fabric drop to the floor. Brogan's eyes widened as the alien rested three fleshy rods atop his furry belly. Each one was as long and thick as Brogan's forearm, emerging from a wet slit below Vozagar's waist. They tapered towards the ends, with wide openings that dripped a faintly purple-hued fluid, slick and warm as it soaked into Brogan's fur. They moved slightly, stiff but more like a kind of muscle. One pressed into the heft of Brogan's belly, another shifted over and began to rub itself against his side, and the third Vozagar left twitching in the air. "Do you like the appearance of my equipment?" He asked, with a sharp-toothed smile and a glint of pride in his eyes.

Brogan nodded. He tried to relax his throat, worried whether he could take one of them, let alone three.

"First, I will examine your sexual capacities. Then, I will share mine." Vozagar pulled back and dug his hands beneath Brogan's belly again, right to his exposed crotch. Two of the alien's hands found Brogan's balls, as big as oranges, cupping each one in a palm as his fingers tested the fuzzy skin around them. "Large testicles, this much you share with your fellow bulls." His other hands closed in on Brogan's dick, which was completely hard. Vozagar pressed against the head and the few inches of shaft he could find. "About as thick as subjects 3 and 5, though much smaller in length."

Brogan looked away from Vozagar's massive dicks. "It's not... I'm not smaller than other bulls, just, it's um... covered."

Vozagar's side heads drew in closer to Brogan's crotch, and the alien's hands pressed into the thick pad of fat around his dick. "Ah, I see. Subcutaneous fat surrounds it. That must make it quite difficult to mount a mate."

Brogan wanted to try topping a guy, but most of them were more interested in his mountainous rump. "I haven't really had the chance."

Vozagar hummed in thought, and resumed his examination, lifting Brogan's belly to get a good look at his meat. The alien traced the ridge of Brogan's foreskin as it hung loose and thick over his head. He pinched the skin, despite Brogan's quiet, nervous mooing. "Pliable covering on the glans," He glanced to the side, where a small holographic readout shone for him. "Dense in nerve endings," He slipped the tip of a claw inside and made slow, circular movements until Brogan's thighs shivered. "Erogenous mucosal membrane." He looked down at Brogan's dick in contemplation. "Ordinarily, I prefer to mutually fill genital slits with other males, but I will improvise." He tapped on Brogan's fat thighs, and a thrilling idea dawned on his face. "I am well used to thrusting within dense, wet muscle, but it would be quite novel to feel thick, soft fat."

"You mean, like, my thighs?" Brogan asked. He'd often wondered how that would feel.

"Excellent idea." Vozagar's dicks retracted into him and reemerged, setting their tips into position. One rested between his thighs, where the fat was thick enough to squeeze against itself. The other two, however, rested on his fat pad, right above his dick. "While I'm afraid this will not quite be like mounting, however you will get to enter me, if that is amenable."

"Really?" Brogan's breath picked up. He could feel the warmth from Vozagar's slit, and already his whole crotch was slathered in the alien's fluid, which tingled against his skin.

"It will help me understand your sexual function to the best of my ability. Tell me, do you enjoy pressure on your phallus?"

"Yeah, um, do you?"

"Indeed." Vozagar began to slide forward. His first dick slipped easily between Brogan's thighs, lathering them in precum while they engulfed his length. His others pressed into Brogan's fat pad, finding little resistance as they neared the hidden root of his dick. "Squeeze your thighs for me, Brogan."

Brogan did as he was asked, and Vozagar hissed in pleasure as his dick slid further along that bovine fat. The alien pressed himself forward and wrapped his arms around Brogan's back, hefting him up from the bed to press him against his broad chest. Vozagar gripped Brogan's ass, nearly pricking him with those sharp claws. But Brogan's attention returned to his front as he felt his dick slide easily inside Vozagar's slit, between all three dicks, so slippery that he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. Then, Vozagar's dicks pressed in. The whole slit compressed around Brogan's bull meat until dull throbs of pleasure ran down his root. He was completely trapped inside the alien. "How are you doing that?" Brogan asked.

"Your kind have very limited muscle in your reproductive systems." Vozagar began to pump his hips, driving his dicks into Brogan's fat pad and up through his thighs, wet squelching sounds filling the room. "This is one great difference between us. It is often something of a competition between my kind, whose organs can hold the other's in submission." His teeth glimmered. "I suppose, between us, there is simply no contest."

Brogan felt something new within the alien's slit; small, delicate touches on the ridge of his foreskin, dozens of tiny things reaching up for him. The tendrils explored his skin for a moment before a few began to delve inside of it. Others gripped his skin, tugging and stretching it curiously as yet more tendrils lapped at the inside, shivering bolts of warmth pulling the breath out of his lungs.

"Is this pleasurable?" Vozagar asked, as his tendrils began to tug on Brogan's dick, pulling the skin back and forth along his small length.

Brogan leaned against him and panted. "Y-yes." He tried to keep some control over himself, but his muscles were shaking as Vozagar's tingling fluid seemed to magnify every touch. He lay, helpless, against the alien.

Vozagar's frill flicked and glowed, and he stared down at the bull, this great fat bovine who had relented completely to him. His side mouths coiled close and lavished their drooling tongues on Brogan's horns, feeling one of the few hard things about him before drifting downwards.

Brogan mooed in instinctual worry as those tongues touched his face, caressing his cheeks with their dark purple width, slathering him in thick saliva. They pressed beneath his fur, and Vozagar gave an eager hiss.

"Your skin is delectable. Covered in oil and salt. Soft." His mouths wandered further on their long, flexible necks, nostrils huffing at his chin and continuing down until they reached their goal. They licked around his moobs, finding the very edge of them before pressing their tongues in hard. Brogan's breasts put up no resistance to him, pliable tallow inviting the alien to do whatever he liked. Vozagar didn't say anything as his mouths opened and pulled Brogan's moobs into them, sucking hard to consume all that warm fat, circling them with his sharp teeth.

"Is... is that helping you understand something?" Brogan looked up pleadingly at Vozagar, trying to trust the alien's good intentions.

"No. I've simply wanted to have your, ah... moobs in my teeth since I saw you down on that field." He leaned his true head in close, until his snout was nearly touching Brogan's. "You seemed to be enjoying your body so much, I wished to share that enjoyment." His big fingers tensed around Brogan's rolls of back fat.

Brogan let the warm comfort of Vozagar's sucking mouths soothe him, and offered a bashful smile to the alien. "Would you, um, lick my nipples? I think there's a little more milk in me."

Vozagar's tongues lavished him, making Brogan moo deeply as they soaked him in saliva so fully that it dribbled down the bull's tits and past the alien's teeth, painting the pillowy mounds of his belly in purple. "I will be getting more than milk from you, Brogan." Vozagar's little inner tendrils pushed all the way across the head of Brogan's dick so they could spread and pulse along the ridge of it, while others stretched his foreskin as far as they possibly could, playing with the taut inner skin in unbearable shooting energy. The alien's own dicks pumped hard against Brogan's crotch, hammering near the root of his dick and treating his soft flesh like meat that needed tenderizing.

Between his desperate mooing, Brogan managed to gasp out a few words, "Wait, I'm, I'm close-"

His voice was smothered as Vozagar stuck the tongue of his true head into his mouth, a fat and heavy length of flesh that reached deep to muffle any sound the bull could make, pressing his own tongue uselessly against the bottom of his snout. He couldn't even close his jaws, the alien's tongue far stronger than any of his muscles. He whined at the intrusive kiss as Vozagar stared possessively into his eyes.

Vozagar used his grip on Brogan's ass to pump the bull against his dicks, thrusting hard enough to jiggle all the fat in his belly, to tease his breasts dangerously against the sharp teeth holding them, and even to make his fat face shake around the alien's tongue.

Brogan thought he couldn't be any more in the alien's grip, until Vozagar's dicks started to shift again. Instead of digging into him with his thrusts, they spread outwards and seemed to flatten, expanding their widths so they could surround Brogan's genitals with ease. Even as the bull's foreskin was tugged and held tight, his head made the plaything of little tendrils, his fat, heavy balls were pulled up into Vozagar's slit, the skin around them pleasantly shivering at the tension while his cords were just starting to complain.

Vozagar pulled his tongue free from Brogan's mouth, letting it drop before it slowly pulled back to his jaws. But he didn't give Brogan the chance to speak again, with one of his hands taking its place. His thick knuckles pressed against the top of the bull's snout, and the alien's fingers gripped and played with his wide bovine tongue. "I can imagine why you would enjoy food enough to grow so fat." The alien grunted in pleasure as his flattened dicks squeezed Brogan's fat pad. "But it's so odd to me," his inner tendrils crawled up Brogan's balls, exploring their round shape and, despite their small size, gripping tight to the neck of his scrotum, "to have such important, delicate organs outside your body, without even muscles of their own. It's not difficult at all to get a hold on them." His little tendrils tensed, filling Brogan's balls with a faint, tantalizing soreness. "Perhaps if one has thick, powerful muscle on their legs, then it's not such a worry." Vozagar's hands drifted from Brogan's ass and down to his thighs, digging deep into the marshmallow-soft meat. "With such an emphasis on adipose tissue, however, you're defenseless." He flicked his tongue playfully on Brogan's nose. "Perfect for livestock, though. Let's see about harvesting more from you."

Brogan moaned as Vozagar's inner tendrils smothered his balls and the head of his dick, so dense that they could pull on them in warm, slurping motions. The alien stuffed his hand further into Brogan's mouth and sucked hard on his breasts, making Brogan's heart race as his hips jerked, fat thighs shuddering against Vozagar's muscular lower half. His muffled moo slipped past the alien's hand as his heavy balls tried their best to pull closer to him, only allowed part of the way by the tendrils. Thick bovine seed poured out of his cock, without enough movement to properly pump. Vozagar's dicks coiled around Brogan's and tugged back and forth, milking him for every drop his balls had to give.

Vozagar's side mouths swallowed the small spurts of milk they earned for their effort on his breasts, only allowing a few drops to spill and join the saliva in the bull's fur.

Brogan took a few shaky breaths while the alien pulled his hand from his mouth. He was nearly limp, while Vozagar's dicks and tendrils toyed with his meat, exploring him with a more scientific attitude, carefully prodding the little intricacies of him, testing just how sensitive his balls were, finding the veins on his dick, exploring his frenulum as if it wasn't making him shiver with every aloof touch.

Vozagar himself, however, looked down at Brogan with a warm and affectionate smile, all five eyes relaxed, looking over his face in pleasure. "You're such a good subject, Brogan. It really is a pity you're not my livestock to tend to." His side mouths licked their chops happily. "Are you comfortable? Would you like me to set you down?"

Brogan kept his arms folded on Vozagar's chest, and breathed deeply at the feeling of the alien's hands, holding him by his fat rump. "Is it okay for you to, um, cuddle a subject for a little bit?"

"Well, it's not quite standard to offer such personal comfort to a subject, but then, I suppose I've already gone beyond standard procedure quite a bit." Vozagar petted Brogan's head, tweaking his soft ear and dancing a claw against his horn, making the bull shut his eyes at the simple pleasure of his touch. He pulled Brogan forward until his snout rested on Vozagar's shoulder. The alien set his own central snout atop Brogan's head and rubbed his expansive back, patting his flank and pinching his fat rolls where he found them. His breath seemed to slow as Brogan clung tight to him. "Ah, there we are. I suppose that's another purpose of a body such as yours. I've never encountered a creature who feels as good to hold." His arms enclosed Brogan and tightened, covering much of his muscle-bound body in creamy bull fat.

"I'm glad you turned out to be nice," Brogan murmured, content to leave his head on the alien's shoulder. All the pressure on his body made him fall deep into a warm calm.

"What good is galactic travel if you can't enjoy the company of your neighbors?" Vozagar nuzzled one of his side heads against Brogan's neck and coiled his lower half until he could rest himself easily atop it. "Your species are diurnal, correct?"

"Diurnal?" Brogan asked dreamily.

"Awake in the daytime."

He nodded softly, rubbing his snout against Vozagar's neck in return. "Um, yeah. That one."

"It's deep in the night, and you have had a significant few hours," Vozagar began tentatively, trying to effect his usual scientific certainty. "I could collect your vehicle, and if you slept here I could examine the natural effects of such rest on your body." A section of the floor rose up behind him, so he could lean his back against it and let Brogan lay comfortably on his chest, little bull tail flicking over his big, round ass. Vozagar looked down at the splash of cream-colored fur over one of his cheeks. "Another intimate examination, perhaps." His hand drifted down to pet that cheek, patting him softly.

Brogan shifted to rest his head on Vozagar's chest, turning onto his side, curling his meaty legs, and letting the fat of his belly and chest spill over the alien's hefty muscle. "I am pretty sleepy." Brogan nestled into him, breathing in Vozagar's strange, musky scent. He didn't mind it, and it could certainly grow on him. "Do you need to collect my, um, stuff inside you though?"

"Stuff?" Vozagar peeked an eye open at his heavy bull, and a little laugh snorted past his nostrils. "Ah, it is alright. I will simply collect some more seed tomorrow when you wake." He cradled Brogan's shoulder and cocked his head to the side. "I have been watching media from your planet. We have similar styles of affection, though not identical. Let me try." He flicked his tongue out again to lick Brogan's cheek, then bent down and, despite the difficulty with his scaled and sharp-toothed maw, kissed the bull between his horns.

Later the next day, Brogan stood in the vehicle bay of Vozagar's ship, as it hovered, invisible, above an unfamiliar stretch of road. The bull was still dressed in just his underwear, which Vozagar had been nice enough to clean for him after some 'leak of sexual fluids.'

"Where are we?" Brogan asked.

"Close to your destination. Far enough from prying eyes." Vozagar had returned to his loincloth, and Brogan did find it comfortable to be able to just wear undergarments in front of another man.

"Are, um, my clothes in my car?" He rubbed his boxer briefs. Like most bulls, he had to wear stiff pants to avoid showing off his equipment in public. Or, at least his balls.

"Indeed." Vozagar sighed. "Are you certain you're not interested in my offer?"

Brogan paused. "It's not that I'm not interested, it's just... I can't leave my whole life behind." He didn't want to just leave this big nice alien behind either.

Vozagar narrowed some of his eyes in thought. "Then I could tend to you if you didn't need to leave your homeworld?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." Brogan looked down bashfully. "Being taken care of does sound nice."

"I will take these factors into consideration. We will discuss it further at a later date." Vozagar pulled a cylinder device from his waistband and approached Brogan, nudging the bull to face away from him. "I would hate to simply lose you in the noise of this planet, however. You will feel a slight pressure."

Brogan glanced back as he felt Vozagar pull his underwear down, exposing his butt. A surprised moo escaped him at a dull pinch deep in his ass, underneath the thick layers of fat. He rubbed the cheek and Vozagar pulled his underwear back into place, giving him a few final pats and another smile.

"What was that?" Brogan asked.

Vozagar's side heads seemed to snicker as he spoke, "Oh, nothing much. Locator, bodily homeostasis scanner, teleportation lock, and a sort of identifying mark. A good comparison from your world would be, perhaps..." he gave Brogan an affectionate lick, "a cattle tag."