FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--

Zaine rushed through the busy airport, clutching his briefcase to his chest as his eyes searched the multitude of signs for his departure gate. Gate D, Terminal... shit, what was it, one? Two? Fuck! He took a sharp left, ignoring the Spanish cursing from the family he cut off, and found a seat so that he could comb through his briefcase for his departure information.

The sounds of the airport swirled around him as he sifted through his papers. Laughing kids, loud conversations on speakerphone, the rolling of luggage and dogs barking in their cages. Fuck, who the hell decided to let normal people into airports in the first place? Profit be damned, flying was better when only the rich could afford it.

Meeting details, flight date, flight plans... aha! Zaine pulled out his booking information with a flourish of triumph! His eyes scanned down the lines... 'Gate D, Terminal... 3?' "Shit!" He bolted out of his chair, fumbling his suitcase closed before he darted down the aisles. Terminal 3 was halfway across the airport and a ride on the monorail on top of that! He was going to be late, thanks to his lazy secretary who obviously mis-packed his case.

Other flyers rushed by in a blur as he tried to map out the quickest route from here to his terminal. If he was really, really lucky, he could take a shortcut and make it through security in time. It was just a left up here, and a right through the new hallway they'd just put in. He rounded the corner and nearly ran into an old woman walking her dog. She yelled at him as he rushed on by: there was no use stopping for her anyways. It wasn't worth his time.

There. His eyes spotted the new hallway, and practically sprinted across the hall and slipped inside. The moment he did so, the heady, cloying scent of dog shit slammed into him.

Zaine stumbled to a stop and gagged. Jesus, what was that? Did a bird die and get left out? That did happen sometimes. His eyes watered as he looked around for that awful stench - and almost immediately found it. Right in the middle of the hall, flanked by benches, stood a large patch of green astroturf and an oversized plastic hydrant, bright red.

And on top of that astroturf and smeared against the hydrant were piles and piles of dog shit. Some were obviously new, still steaming and glistening, but most of the piles were old and stale. There was a full dispenser of doggie bags right next to the patch, so obviously asshole after asshole had just refused to clean up after their dog.

God, that's exactly why airports should never have catered to the trashy lower classes. They did shit like this, disrespected their surroundings and didn't care one bit if they were inconveniencing someone else. Zaine shook his head as he continued to sniff the disgusting scent in the air. He had a mind to pick up that dog shit himself, if only he didn't have a plane to catch...

His feet didn't budge. He really did have to get going, but.. Why was he staying here? There was something about the scent... did he hate it? That didn't make sense, it just smelled kind of pleasant. But he was late, he had to go. Why was he here again?

A sudden pressure filled his bladder, threatening to burst out. Zaine let out a yelp as he clenched his kegels, forcing his piss to stay inside. Fuck, had he always needed to piss this bad? Maybe that was why he was here... after all, hydrants were for pissing, right?

Dogs pissing, he reminded himself. Not for humans. Despite his conclusion, Zaine took another step forward, this time onto the astroturf. He plunged his foot into a tall, fresh pile of dog shit. Something inside him wanted to curse in frustration, but most of him didn't care. A small part of him thought it was kind of natural.

He looked at the hydrant again, staring at it. Not for humans, he had to remind himself. Hydrants are for dogs pissing.

And... why was that an issue?

The question made Zaine tilt his head. Why was it an issue again? He tried to reason it out, but his screaming bladder made it difficult to hold a train of thought. It wasn't meant for humans, and he was a... what was he again?

Zaine stepped forward again, mechanically and against his will. He looked down at his pants: the normally tight trimmed trousers were fitting oddly on him. They didn't seem to fit his legs, while his crotch was overflowing. Had something shrank?

He plunged his hands down his pants and pulled out his cock and balls, draping them over the top of his pants. Or rather, his balls and sheath - at some point he'd grown a thick, furry sheath and a hefty pair of balls. That seemed... normal. That seemed right.

Wait, why was he here? He looked up at the fire hydrant, and it all clicked into place. Hydrants were places for dogs, not humans, to piss. He came here to piss. And that was okay, because... he wasn't a human.

"Oh, fuck," Zaine moaned as a wave of pleasure overtook him: finally, things felt right! He relaxed his bladder and allowed his piss to torrent out of his cock, spraying against the hydrant and splattering all over his pants and shoes. His stream, nearly clear from the water he'd been drinking, soaked into the astroturf. It was as if the faux ground was drinking it up! For every dribble of piss it absorbed, the astroturf grew that amount or more.

Zaine didn't notice, or maybe he didn't care. All that mattered was the intense relief and pleasure that came from emptying his cock. His piss transitioned from clear to yellow, and then from increasingly dark yellow to something that was so greasy, so filthy as to almost be orange. As he continued, his sheath grew plumper and taller, while his balls gurgled, throbbed and grew.

Passersby continued on their business as if nothing were happening, paying no attention at all to the businessman with a dog's cock making noises and pissing on a hydrant. Even as the turf continued to spread more and more, there was not a single reaction from anyone. They walked onto the turf oblivious to it, and each step they took changed them. A sprout of fur here. A small tail there. An elongated, partially furred snout. A kid barking or mother growing extra breasts. Without them realizing it, contact with the turf was slowly turning them into dogs.

As it spread, the astroturf's fake green grass grew soft and softer, growing thinner and curlier as it did so. The neon green coloring faded into a grayish white, and the asphalt base turned softer, squishier, mushier. It seemed more and more like the turf was no longer turf. The passersby stepped on the turf and their feet would sink slightly into it. A few glanced at the mound with mild curiosity, but none stopped to wonder what it was or why it seemed to be spreading further and further. Even when the turf became too soft and curly to mistake for anything other than doggie pubic hair, all carried on without a second thought. It was just one of those peculiarities of life in this airport that no one seemed to care about.

The businessman taking a piss on the hydrant was no longer recognizable as him: some of his features were obvious, but much of his body was just wrong. Fur had sprouted up on most of him, and his legs were slowly making the transition to dog haunches, complete with a small tail.

A few final dribbles of piss trickled from his now-hard dog cock, and Zaine gave it a final shake before falling onto all fours. Finally, he was done pissing - if he was lucky, he could still catch his plane.

As soon as he had the thought, a different pressure swelled in his body: he needed to shit. Sighing in annoyance, Zaine squatted over the ground and closed his eyes, grunting as he tried to push his fat logs out and be on his way. Try as he might, however, nothing seemed to come out. There was an unmistakable pressure in his bowels, firm shit trying to push out, but though his inner ring stretched around it, his asshole was physically unable to stretch around the pure girth of that monster.

If it wasn't one thing it was another. Zaine growled to himself and looked around for ideas. He wasn't getting to his plane before pushing out his load, but his hole just wasn't able to stretch around it. Though his tailhole was growing rapidly puffier and looser, Zaine didn't know that: he thought this was a permanent issue.

His eyes settled on the hydrant he'd just marked with piss. There were no puddles below it, but the orange film of his piss still clung to the red plastic sides. Something in him knew that he could take the whole hydrant inside him... and if his shit was too thick to come out, he just had to break it up.

Zaine clambered onto the hydrant, struggling to keep his balance while his body and very bone structure changed in real time. His substantial cock jiggled in the air, drooling precum onto the ground. He no longer had the flexibility to look down at where his ass was pointing, so the businessman just had to close his eyes and concentrate with the sensation against his asshole. After a couple of failed, probing attempts,

He finally found his mark: he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and plunged his asshole down on the thick hydrant.

"Hawwoooooooooh, god!" he howled out into the air. His eyes rolled back as he sank down on the hydrant. Each inch he sank with another jolt of pleasure from his swelling prostate, and his throbbing cock sent spurts of precum into the air.

He started to buck up and down the best he could. The hydrant plunged in and out of his ass, and with each thrust down, more and more shit broke apart inside him. Before long, every push up was accompanied by a deep, fluttering fart and a burst of chunky shit tumbling down onto the ground. The eggy scent rushed throughout the airport, and it made Zaine moan as he sniffed.

Less and less of Zaine was appearing human. His cock and balls grew and grew, and so did the chub around his belly, and the patches of skin likewise shrank. Limbs reconfigured, thick and greasy paw pads swelled from his feet, and an oversized, drool-soaked doggy tongue burst from his wide maw. Within a few moments, the last hints of humanity left him. Zaine had become a happy, horny, drooling and hyper-cocked feral dog - specifically a German Shepherd.

For having just transformed species, Zaine seemed remarkably cool with it. Truthfully, there was no part of him that remembered ever having been different: this was just a normal day, and he happened to have an especially hyper shit today. Nothing out of the ordinary from that.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" His cries grew closer and high pitched as he grew close to climax. His cock twitched and his balls churned, slapping into the growing mound of shit below with wet, dense smacks. His cock grew tense. His tongue lolled out, his eyes rolled back, and his balls pulled up. He let out one pant, another, then took a deep breath. "Fuck!"

Orgasm crashed across Zaine like a tsunami, overloading all his senses as his massive cock threw out shot after shot of cum all over the ceiling, walls, and any unfortunate passersby. It started out white, as normal, but each throb shot out less white, normal, human cum, and more thick, rancid doggy cum with a deep yellow tinge. It collected on the walls and floors, sticking together in steaming mounds.

Zaine bounced down one last time, and as he lifted himself up he pushed out the very last of the shit in him. It pressed against the top of the hydrant, refusing to break and lifting his body into the air. He tumbled forward into a pile of his own cum, and let out a satisfied, gurgling bark.

A few moments passed before he collected himself enough to clamber to his feet. His chest heaved as he looked around, recollecting his thoughts from before he'd fucked himself to climax on a fire hydrant. He was... oh gosh, he was going to be late!

Zaine barked as he spun around, searching desperately for his suitcase. Luckily for him, he spotted the familiar handle sticking out of a pile of cum, and he darted forward to grab it into his maw. After making sure his clothes were still on him - and distorted and torn, they were - he hurriedly trotted down the rest of the hall, making his way to Terminal 3. He left a trail of shit and cum behind him, dragging his still-hard cock on the ground, but no one looked disgusted or tried to avoid him.

If anyone had panicked or tried to stop him, Zaine wouldn't have let it delay him any longer. He was fast enough to outrun any of these humans, and besides, he had a plane to catch.

---

The contagion continued to spread throughout the airport as half-turned victims tracked further and further on their feet and paw pads. Sprouts of the nasty dog pubes covered the ground in most places, along with some of the chairs and it even clung to the walls. There were bastions of normalcy scattered here and there, places with low foot traffic, but for the most part the carpet of filth and pubes spread unabated. One place it particularly thrived, though, was the food court.

It made sense. Long known to be an oasis of overpriced food and, most importantly, (relatively) comfortable seating, most passengers spent at least part of their down time in the airport seated at one of a dozen little food shops.

At first, the contagion made little difference for the workers behind the counter. Like everyone else, they took no notice of the changes sweeping across the airport, but unlike everyone else, they were spared for quite a while. Contact between them and the transforming public was limited, and the constant disinfecting of their work space kept anything from spreading. If humanity in the airport had an unaware group of heroes, it was these underpaid employees.

All it took was a single mistake, and all their protection would be lost. It could be as minor as someone forgetting to change their gloves, but shift changes bringing in half-transformed replacements did most of them in.

The final bastion to fall was an independent sandwich shop. Working for Susie's Subs was both a blessing and a curse: Susie treated all her workers well, paid them well, and gave them a solid, flexible schedule. Unfortunately, that same high wage meant she could only afford to hire so many workers, and so it was common for the same three people to open the shop at 6am and close it at 10pm the same day.

It was this backbreaking schedule which saved them for so long. With no shift changes, no one entered to act as a Typhoid Mary, and with their solid pay they all kept on top of sanitizing duties - no way they'd risk getting fired from a gig as sweet as this. The thing that finally did them in wasn't their lax work or a mistake: it was a bitchy customer.

That was all it took. One bitchy customer was angry enough that, even halfway through transforming into a dog, she still took the time to scream and throw her tainted sandwich past the counter and into a worker's face. The worker quickly cleaned the mess up, but it was far too late: she's already breathed it in.

Things devolved rapidly from there. The employees kept to their duties even as their bodies changed, and it became harder and harder to make sandwiches. The equipment didn't change to suit their new, feral bodies, and so assembling all the ingredients became a task in futility. As their bodies changed, their deliveries got worse and worse.Surprisingly, none of the customers seemed to mind as their sauces came back splattered, meat half-fallen from their sandwiches already, or even that the team had been reduced to preparing them on the ground. After all, how else were dogs supposed to do it?

"Uhh..." One of the workers tilted his head as he tried to figure out what came next. The last of the team had transformed fully into dogs, depriving them of crucial opposable thumbs. Their customers had been more than understanding, but it meant they had to be creative from this point out. Luckily a tin of meat had fallen to the ground, so they could drag that across with their mouths and plop it on the bread, but their latest customer had asked for 'something special', to surprise him. Their usual surprise sandwich required ingredients that they could no longer reach, but there was no way they were going to leave the customer wanting.

His eyes searched the kitchen floor for something, anything to add. They'd ran out of condiments, there wasn't any floor gunk to speak of... but wait! There was a patch of filth growing in the corner, swelling with cum-slicked dog pubes. Perhaps..?

The pomeranian got to his feet and trotted over to the patch of corruption. He leaned in and gave it a cautious sniff. It smelled like cum, like scum, and most importantly like sweaty, stinky dog pubes. Perfect! With a yelp of triumph, he leaned down and took a mouthful of the bush, clamping his teeth down on it and yanking it off. He trotted back over to his waiting teammates and proudly deposited the pubes on the sandwich, then plopped the second bread slice on top of the messy sandwich.

"Order up!" he yelled out with a proud wag. Ray approached the counter as he flung it on top. Slobber soaked half of it, and the rest was nearly spilling out already. The pubes curled out from the side, blatantly obvious.

Ray took it with a wide grin and took a large bite. "Gosh, this is good!" he said with a full mouth. "Thank you so much!"

The Pomeranian nodded, his tail wagging as he watched Ray hurry away from the sandwich shop to wherever he was going. Yet another satisfied customer. The next customer in line barked impatiently, and the Pomeranian scurried back behind the counter to join the others in their duties.

Ray, meanwhile, scarfed down the sandwich as much as he could while he rushed towards security. God, the sandwich was good enough to make him forget about his problems for the moment. Mustard and mayo dripped and plopped onto his hands, meat falling out and creating a trail behind him. The pubes were a great addition, giving it a stringy, unique texture. It meant an extra few chews before swallowing, but what could feel better than curly, stinky pubes caught in his teeth?

He took one last bite and let the rest fall apart in his hands, plopping onto the ground and his knot. Ray was one of the few mostly-humans left, but that wasn't to say he managed to escape infection. Everything about him was normal... except a pair of massive balls and an even bigger throbbing, drooling dog cock sticking out of his pants three feet in front of him.

God, it was so frustrating. Having a cock that big was nice, to be sure, but when it got hard like this it was difficult not to just give in and jack off! Ray gave a sigh as he reached security - he'd arrived just before the rush - but that sigh turned into an annoyed growl. His throbbing, needy cock couldn't help but press against the throbbing pucker of the half-dog in front of him, and everything inside him just wanted to thrust in.

The line shuffled forward slowly, and all he could think about was how delicious that fuckhole in front of him must feel. His hands involuntarily shifted down to his cock, twitching as he fought the urge to slam inside. Smearing the mayo and mustard from the sandwich on his knot helped take the edge off, but it still didn't make the urge go away entirely.

He took a few deep breaths and firmly reminded himself that knotting this stud in front of him, even if he obviously wanted it, would make them both in danger of missing their flights. The temptation abated just a bit. It made him feel naughty and weirdly alive as he thought about how good it would feel, how close that pleasure was, even how it would be to explain to his family why he was late. Relief was so close, he could almost taste it on his lips.

"Next!" The security officer's gruff voice broke him out of his haze. Ray looked up to see a fully transformed Doberman leering at him. His cock and balls dragged behind him, fully erect and pulsing thick, bubbling precum. He had a hefty gut, one that almost lifted his paws off the floor, and ridiculously thick lips that dripped with drool. He wore an ill-fitting police uniform, complete with a bulletproof vest.

The doberman gave him a nasty glare. "Can you hear me? Get a move on!"

Ray yawlped as he took a step forward, and then again as he fell to the ground. He struggled a few moments to get his legs underneath him: apparently he'd been shifting as he indulged his fantasies, and all his limbs had turned into doggie legs. He was happy it finally set in, but it certainly was a surprise.

Apparently, Ray wasn't recovering fast enough. The doberman rolled his eyes with a growl and stomped forward. "Alright bud, you earned yourself a random deep inspection. For your safety, of course." Without warning he snapped at Ray's shift, sinking his teeth into his shirt's collar before he dragged him away from the line to a nearby room.

"Thank you, officer!" Ray huffed as he struggled to keep up with the doberman's brisk walk. "Random inspections like these keep us safe!" And he was truly grateful - he worried about missing his flight, but it was the price citizens must pay for safety. And for time alone in a room with a handsome stud in uniform.

The doberman grunted in response. "Sarcasm will get you nowhere, twink," he growled. To his surprise, instead of a dirty look, he got a genuine smile from Ray.

"I'm not being sarcastic, officer! You do such an important job, I could never imagine being as critical to our nation's security as you are."

By God, the kid wasn't kidding! The doberman cracked a rare smile and released Ray's cuff. "Alright kid, get up and walk with me. Name's Brock, by the way."

Ray crawled behind Officer Brock the rest of the way to the security room, unable to keep his eyes off the doberman's throbbing, disgusting cock. He could practically see the smegma growing with each second, his cock sweating unimaginable amounts of grease that congealed almost immediately.

Officer Brock opened the door with his front paws and walked in, waiting for Ray to follow before closing the door. This place, unlike the sandwich shop, had morphed to accommodate its occupant's more feral nature. All the switches were large and close to the ground, and even the chairs were perfectly molded for fat doggy asses. Ray looked around with wonder.

"So," Officer Brock finally said. "I pulled you aside for a contraband check, just in case. Do you know what that entails?"

Ray nodded with a blush. Of course he knew how it went... it's one of the reasons he was so excited.

"Good." The dog smirked and padded around to Ray's ass. His pants were barely clinging to his quickly morphing ass, so Brock felt no guilt as he used his teeth to tear Ray's clothes to shred that hung from his body. The former human's asshole was quickly pulsing and morphing into a hypersized pecker, plush and gooey from filth.

Brock grinned and used his paws to slowly pull Ray's hole open, eliciting moans and whimpers for every inch it stretched. Despite the fun he was allowed to have, Officer Brock took his job seriously: he inspected the rim with a thorough sniff, then drew back a bit to get a good look at Ray's gaping tunnel. The pink walls looked clear up to a point, complete with a throbbing prostate the size of a fist, but anything further was obscured by a fat load of solid shit.

"Going to have to perform a deep inspection," he murmured into his walkie talkie. "Get someone from break to cover me out there, I might be a while."

Ray tipped his head. "What's a deep inspe-OOooh, fuck!"

His question was answered immediately as Brock shoved his entire head inside Ray's gaping, dripping hole and let it close over his body. The warmth enveloped him as he let Ray adjust to the massive invader in his hole. Ray was grunting and whimpering as he tried to loosen his hole even further, but every second the doberman's muscular body pressed up against his corrupted prostate was pure bliss. He even started grinding back against the police officer, trying to force him deeper.

The officer licked his lips and set to work: he had to clear the subject's bowels so he could get a clearer look. And of course, the only reasonable way to do this was to do it himself: Brock started breaking bites off the log of shit and chewing it into a gooey slop. He let it sit in his maw a little bit to appreciate the taste before swallowing it down and starting on the next bite. It settled heavily in his belly, but rather than fill him up, it made the officer even more eager to eat more.

Ray, of course, was in complete bliss. Thoughts jumbled around his head, swirling and escaping comprehension, but it didn't matter: all that mattered was the fact that Officer Brock was protecting him so well, and that Officer Brock's protection sent waves of pleasure through his body. HIs eyes rolled back as Brock's sloppy tongue slurped his inner walls completely clean. His own cock throbbed needily, completely untouched but brought to the brink of climax purely from prostate stimulation. He was moaning and panting as he tried to stave off climax, but all those stretched out muscles flexing around the massive doberman literally crawling up his ass made it almost impossible.

Brock let his hunger drive him, draw him deeper and deeper into Ray's body. It was a good thing Ray was transforming into a Great Dane - a smaller breed might have had trouble with an entire dog stretching their puffy ass. Every one of Ray's whimpers and moans vibrated Brock's body in the most wonderful way. It was getting hard to breathe the deeper he got, but Brock had to clear out every ounce of shit from the suspect's hole, he had to protect him as much as possible.

The two lasted for a few minutes, melding into a single creature of moans, gurgles, whimpers and wet slurping noises. Pleasure united them, each of them moving in perfect harmony with the other to maximize the pleasure overwhelming them both. Ray was fully transformed by this point, with only a few remaining spots of furless skin hinting he ever was anything but a fucked up feral mutt.

Finally, Ray's body gave in to the inevitable pleasure. He screamed as his massive cock throbbed once, twice, and then finally shot jet after jet of pearly white goo across the room. The torrents of cum grew thicker, greasier and more yellow as his orgasm stretched on, and he found himself clawing the floor in front of him just to deal with the immense pleasure wracking his body.

His clenching hole drew Brock in deeper and deeper with each throb, quickly sliding the police dog into the darkest depths Ray had inside him. The doberman was in heaven, ecstatically slurping up every last chunk of shit offered to him as he disappeared further and further. Soon enough, the only thing sticking out of Ray's hole were the doberman's massive cock, balls, and oversized feet. The moment Ray's ruined hole pressed against Brock's knot, he let out a scream of pleasure and gave into the sudden, overwhelming orgasm.

Brock's cock throbbed and twitched as chunky cum poured out in spurts, filling the room with warmth and musk. Ray's orgasm had finally began to subside, but the wriggling and moaning of the dog deep inside him set him off again. The two continued like this for a long time, each orgasm triggering the other to cum again and again. The room quickly filled with goopy, rotten cum, quickly sloshing up to their chests and continuing to rise. There was no one scheduled to check the room for another hour: they'd get a wave of steaming cum as a reward the moment they opened the door.

Until then, Brock and Ray screamed together in unending ecstasy.

---

Slowly yet steadily, the corruption radiated throughout the airport. The epicenter was near the middle of the building, far away from the terminals, but every rushing passenger spread it faster and further. Soon tendrils of corruption snaked their way through almost every corridor, reaching the lounges and departure gates.

As their influence grew, the world changed. Handles melted away from doors, each one changing to a lockless swinging style. After all, good dogs didn't go where they weren't supposed to, so there was never any worry about someone trespassing in important areas. Bathrooms were left almost entirely the same, but instead of using them to piss and shit, the dogs went there to get a nice, refreshing drink of water.

Funnily enough, the bathrooms seemed to be the cleanest part of the airport. Eager, drooling doggy tongues lapped up any hint of filth on the floor or toilets, but outside, no one cared where they pushed out a massive, sloppy log or lifted their leg and flooded an area with salty, steaming piss. Piles of shit accumulated in the more heavily trafficked areas, but hungry mutts eagerly chomping away at said piles kept their size manageably small.

The waiting areas were transformed as well. Gone were the rows and rows of hard plastic chairs and outlets that never seemed to be on. In their place were plush doggy beds divided by little white picket fences -- something that even humans might not have objected to as an alternative to the plastic chairs. Patiently waiting passengers dozed in them, some alone, many in piles, and quite a few of them fucking, shitting, or pissing in them. Occasionally all at once.

"Flight 291 to Dublin is boarding now. All those on Flight 291 to Dublin, proceed to Departure Gate G."

A dozen dogs jumped up all at once, tails wagging and barks filling the air. "Flight! Flight!" they barked at each other over and over again as the rushed around each other, eagerly searching out their luggage and dragging them by their teeth to the line. One or two particularly randy dogs continued to fuck in the middle of the line. One stud, having tied his bitch's drooling cunt an hour ago, was forced to drag her down the aisle as they made their way to the plane.

The first flight post infection started to board.

---

Jason, the pilot of Flight 291, hurriedly checked his instruments a final time before closing the cockpit door with a heavy thud. He'd felt a strange build of anxiety as he did his pre-flight checks, but he dismissed it as random jitters as he started his rotations. As the door slid shut and sealed itself, Jason settled into his seat with a sigh of relief.

A movement outside the window caught his eye. Jason leaned over to watch the baggage guys do their thing - it was always good for a laugh when they'd drop something. To his surprise, he didn't see any of the baggage guys... just several golden retrievers in tattered, ill-fitting safety vests. Most disturbingly, they each had outrageously oversized cocks and balls, several of which were covered in shit and cum. His stomach churned.

He leaned back in a cold sweat. The fuck was going on? Was he going insane? He leaned forward again, hoping to see the regular crew hard work, but instead he saw two of the mutts fucking, and one lifting his leg and spraying orange piss all over a giant pile of scattered, broken luggage. Some of them had broken open, and none of them were clean.

The boarding tunnel approached the side of the plane and connected automatically. Through the little plastic windows built in, Jason saw a parade of dogs making their way down, all of them as disgustingly fucked up as the ones below. Even worse, most of them were actively shitting or pissing. One of them even seemed to have knotted a bitch! She was now getting dragged along, an obscene bulge in her belly and her, god, triple pairs of tits jiggling with each step. What the fuck!

Jason fell back into his seat with a heaving chest, trying his best to keep calm and stop from hyperventilating. The fuck was happening? A nervous breakdown? Everything was too real for it to be that, but there was no way on God's green earth giant-cocked dogs were taking over everything. Even weirder, a strange, dark curly grass seemed to follow them wherever they went, seeping out cum and piss.

The sound of yipping and barking slowly grew closer, and before long, frustrating clawing echoed through the hull of the aircraft. His heart skipped a beat. They were here! Thank god there was no way their paws could open the plane's door.

God, what to do... he could radio someone for help, but no one would believe him. The flight attendants were all off, the only other person on board was his co-pilot, Luke.

Wait. Luke was on board. He was confirmed still human as of a few minutes ago. The plane was fuelled up, checked out and approved for takeoff, but for the passengers boarding. If they could pull away from the gate, they could fly anywhere. They could fly far enough away to beat whatever was spreading out there, warn everyone.

"Luke!" The scream burst from his chest with unexpected rawness. "Luke! Luke get in here! Something's wrong!" Jason burst from his seat and threw open the cabin door. "Luke!"

Luke came running from the lower deck, confusion plain on his face. "Jason? Jason, buddy, what's wrong?"

What's... wrong?

Jason looked at Luke with a confused blink. His co-pilot was his dashing, blonde self with a square chin, meaty pecs... and a big dog's nose in place of a human's, complete with gaping, flaring nostrils that dripped chunky, bubbly snot.

"Jason? Are you okay?" Luke tipped his head and wagged his butt - no, wagged his rapidly swelling tail. Just like a dog. Which was... okay?

Jason stared for a few moments longer, struggling hard to figure out what was wrong. He was definitely yelling, why was he yelling? What was off?

His eyes settled on his co-pilot's gaping, fuckable nostrils, and suddenly it dinged for him. "I've been without your disgusting, sexy body for too long," Jason said with a grin. He opened his mouth, and a comically oversized dog tongue flopped out, splashing drool all over his chest.

"Gosh, really Jason? Again?" Luke rolled his eyes with a good natured chuckle. "You have to stop being over dramatic. You had me worried there!"

"I wasn't being over dramatic," Jason replied. "You're just worth it." Without further pretension Jason stepped forward and pressed his lips against Luke's snout. Luke let out a low moan as Jason's thick drool oozed up his nostrils, and then a higher pitched cry of pleasure as he began to suck. Thick, chunky snot poured out like a faucet, filling Jason's maw in moments.

Behind them, the scratching and whimpering died down as the corruption got hold of the plane and slowly transformed the door. After a little more scrabbling, the door burst open, and a flood of fully transformed dogs streamed in. Yapping and barks bounced off the walls in a cacaphony of bestial delight, joined by the wet slurps of fucking and sucking. A noxious scent filled the air, making it feel hot and humid. All the while Jason and Luke were lost in each other's bodies.

A cold, wet nudge against his crotch finally pulled Jason back to reality. He looked down to see a small German Shepherd sitting at his feet, giving him the biggest, neediest doe eyes in history. The dog really was dwarfed by the others: his balls were barely watermelon sized, and his mottled, throbbing, vein-riddled cock only made it up to his chest.A wave of empathy washed over the pilot.

"Yeah, what do you need?" he said gently. The dog tipped his head and gave a dumb doggy smile. "Please, may I? I've always wanted to meet a pilot," he said. At first Jason didn't know what the small dog meant, not until the dog nuzzled at Jason's still-human cock and whimpered.

"Ah! Well of course, I'd love to play with a fan." Jason smiled kindly at the dog and gripped the base of his cock. There was a little red beginning to show, but by and large his shaft was still human. In his past life, his 12 inches were impressive, but in his new reality it was considered insanely small. The perfect size for a certain dog hole.

Jason lined up his squishy cockhead with the German Shepherd's left nostril and paused, looking down at him. The dog nodded, and Jason immediately plunged in. Dog and semi-human both erupted into howls of pleasure as sensations previously unknown to any living creatures wracked their body. The silky, warm embrace of the dog's nostrils almost made Jason cum right there, and the brain-fucking sensations of a cock up his nose made the dog gurgle, twitch and moan.

Luke disappeared into the cockpit as the two lost themselves in their bestial fucking. The squelches and slurps cock, snot and nose joined the general sounds of orgy in the plane, The last human resistance in the port succumbed to the perverse pleasure of a tight hole and chunky snot as lube. His transformation continued with a rapid pace, as if he were willing the rest of his humanity out.

The dog gave one large twitch, then his maw went slack. A mighty heave wracked his entire body, and he let out the wettest, chunkiest gag Jason had ever heard. He stopped for a moment out of concern, but the dog forced the pilot to slide back in. With every thrust, the dog heaved and gagged, his eyes rolled back, and the edge came closer and closer. He was doing his best to keep it in, just to savor the sensation as long as he could, but the pilot's thrusting hit just the right spot and it was over. He opened his maw wide one last time, heaved, and with a wet splattering sound, sprayed vomit all over Jason's cock, balls and feet.

"Fuck!" Jason gasped as the nearly boiling liquid washed over his body, clinging to his rapidly sprouting fur and soaking into his skin. The chunky ooze nearly triggered his orgasm right there, but he managed to hold back the wave.

Hrrrk. HRRRRRK!

The cabin filled with the sounds of dogs heaving and vomiting. The glurks and gags of those in the middle of puking mixed with the wet, heavy splatter of those spilling their guts all over each other. The sensation of the filth and the sound continued the chain reaction, and soon even the smell was triggering a second and third puke from those who had started the chain off.

Jason himself continued to nostril fuck his favorite passenger, basking in the sounds of filth and depravity surrounding him. His own stomach was churning and gurgling, but he held back as long as he could. It wasn't that he wasn't eager - it was that this stage, with the weak burps, quiet heaves, and his maw pouring drool in anticipation, it was his favorite part. His growing balls plapped against the other dog's chin again and again in a steady tempo. He felt the sensation rising in his stomach, and he just leaned back, took a deep breath, and embraced it.

Nausea slammed Jason like a train, and he bent over as he heaved and hurled all over himself and the dog he was fucking. The intensity of the sensation combined with the pleasure in his cock and chain reacted into an equally intense orgasm. Jason alternated between howling, heaving, and thrusting into the dog's snout as he slathered him in chunky vomit and poured pint after pint of rapidly rotting cum up his nostril.

The dog for his part enjoyed every bit of it. He even snorted long and deep with each thrust, gunking his throat and lungs with the pilot's seed and hacking it back up, just to swallow it down.

This went on for minutes, the dog's snorts milking more cum from the pilot's cock until it felt like his balls were dry enough to fall off. Jason would have spent forever like this if he could, but the voice of his co-pilot jerked him back to reality.

"Jason!" came Luke's amused voice. "I know you're having fun, but get in here. We have clearance to take off."

Reluctantly, Jason pulled his cock out of the dog's nostrils and gave him a pat on the head. "We'll have to do this again once we're at cruising altitude," he promised. The dog smiled at him with a nod, and Jason fell to all fours. His human cock rapidly swelled to its full canine glory as he headed back towards the cockpit, and before long he joined his partner at their seats.

He looked around at the instruments. They had all changed as well. Where once there were dials and knobs, a variety of toys and easy-flick switches hung around them, each with a distinct purpose. It was all familiar: he'd been flying planes for ages, so of course he knew his way around. Jason maneuvered his cock to push the tip into the plush, oversized fuckhole where his seat once was, and with perfect finesse he slowly sunk in. The plane roared to life, and the dog wriggled his hips deftly to maneuver it down the runway.

God, he was so lucky the engineers had made planes controllable with careful thrusts from a properly sized cock, rather than something silly like a wheel or levers. As the dogs in the traffic control tower waved him on and the jets roared, launching the plane down the runway, Jason got the vague sense that he was doing something important, something irreversible.

That was just silly, of course. He made this flight ten times a week. What was new about it?