FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

No matter how you looked at it, Herman was a nerd. At twenty eight years old, the cheetah still lived in his parents basement, still collected action figures, and still went to the kind of conventions filled with people jocks would love to wail on. His glasses, a rather strong prescription which made his eyes look twice their size, always slid down his muzzle, forcing him to poke them back up every once in a while. He wore polo shirts, and the pocket protector on his breast pocket always had pens and pencils stuffed into it. Herman might have tried to squeeze a calculator into it too, but was saved that problem by wearing a calculator watch. Baggy pants hung loose around his legs, kept up with a belt done up to the fifth notch. But possibly the thing that cemented Herman as a nerd was the fact that he worked a day job as a computer nerd for a budding animation company.

His desk, littered with spent energy drinks and posters of his latest cult classic fascination, flickered in the light of his screen as he typed furiously. For all his nerd-dom, this is what he was good at. Essentially straight out of college, he was already working to revolutionize computer animation. This was a project was going on toward a year, pushed back again by budget cuts and team shuffling but he was coming toward a breakthrough. Herman was looking at code, creating code, that could blur the line between live actors and animated characters, cut the time needed to build characters from the ground up. The old way had served wonders in the past but it was slow and innovation was for no one if not for the lazy and impatient.

It had come to him at first as simple idea, really. There was already code for doing things like reading and writing files. The sort of essential things one might expect for any decent program to be capable of, and most languages provided in their libraries. Herman used C++ primarily, though he knew how to get by in Java, Ruby, and Python. He was used to including the fstream code for the majority of his projects to read files, and the code worked perfectly. So, he figured, why not extend that code to not just read files, but to read actions in the real world, and save it as data? That would certainly speed up processing a tremendous amount, as well as reduce the production time of future projects. In the long run, that part had actually been easy to implement - he'd been able to upload his own motions and antics for months now. The hard part was writing information to the real world, having the program save the changes and then applying it to context outside of the digital world. Of course this was code without a medium but if he did have the work some engineer could easily make his vision a reality. He could animate in the real world. Not just chintzy projections or unstable holograms; it was just possible that he could make something that an actor could really interact with. To think of the millions he could save his little studio right from his little cubicle. So his fingers worked like spotted blurs pounding keys with practiced accuracy, supported by the braces that too often found their way outside of his terminal for him to deny his line of work. So deep was he in his task that he hardly heard his colleagues chatting about a game he would have dived headlong into dressing down for it's shoddy character design. He was just too close. He may have finally figured out how to store digital information in analogue space. This project was reaching fruition.

The current issue he was dealing with was getting the loop to terminate. When activated, the code inside the do while loop would be able to change the features in the real world. But all his debugging attempts kept running into an endless loop, and he couldn't figure out why the loop wasn't terminating the way it was supposed to. If he didn't solve the issue, it could lead to serious run time errors, dangerous things like furniture growing too big for a room and crushing the people inside of it. He'd checked his counters, made sure that they were incrementing the way they were supposed to, and it checked out properly. He was starting at that one section of code for ten minutes before it finally hit him: he had declared the incrementing variable inside the loop, meaning that it was reinitializing every time the loop started. A simple mistake, one he hadn't made in years, and was probably a fault of him getting really into his work. He edited the code, corrected the mistake, and ran it in the debugger one more time. Everything checked out, and ran smoothly. He'd done it.

Herman was on top of the world! He shouted vociferously drawing together anyone in range then shot out a quick email to inform everyone in his address book that he had been successful. Faces gathered around his workspace, some eager some disbelieving but all of them wanted to see if he was telling the truth. The feline geek, prepared for this eventual triumph, had taken a few pictures of himself using the section of his code that uploaded real world images. He was the only model he could rely on to take his project seriously so he selected a few outfits, some as simple as a pair of shorts and some as busy as formal business wear. And, not being the most chaste fellow on the planet he had even taken one of himself completely nude so he could experiment on his own time. He thought he'd deleted it and sent it to his setup at home but this was science, no time to worry about someone seeing a naughty model while he was changing the animation world. The whole programming world He created a theoretical: a growing scene like one they'd animated in their last actual animation project, haphazardly chose one of his own models and he set it to execute. He pushed up his glasses, leaned back in his chair and prepared to watch as he proved his genius. He wasn't a proud cat, at least so much as any feline can really get away with not being prideful, but this was a triumph. This was the literal cutting edge of technology. The screen was loading and generating the created image of him from the paws up as the cheetah was showing just what his code could do. At least he would have. Then the lights went out.

It wasn't just that simple either. Everything shook. Fur stood on end through out the entire building. Electricity was alive in that place where a dozen people turned in chaotic bewilderment. Some of the light bulbs overhead exploded from the surge of power running around them and even a computer or two burst in dazzling displays of lightning and smoke. If the cheetah could think he would have been glad of his neurotic habit of saving. Save after save after emails to himself to make sure his work was never lost. Too many 'incomplete' scores in college taught him that saving was his friend. His only ally in a world of surging power. But he was locked in place. Electricity coursed over his skin, ozone hung in the air mixing with the smell of singed fur as his body tensed in the stream of electrons. His coworkers panicked once they figured out what was happening but before they could clamour to save him the power died and the room was dark again. Everyone waited with bated breath until the back ups whirred to life and the remaining light bulbs and computer screens flickered back on.

"Well," Herman coughed, tasting something like smoke in his mouth, "that was not supposed to happen." He tried to reboot his computer - it had frozen up when the backup generators kicked in - but it wouldn't respond to any input, even when he forcibly pressed the power button. Confused, he scratched behind his slightly burnt ears, trying to think of an explanation. It was more like the computer was hung up then frozen, now that he was paying more attention. It was still whirring with action, but nothing seemed to be happening on screen. The image he had prepared, one of himself growing with muscle and size, wasn't even on the screen. There was only the code itself, neatly arranged with tabs, broken up into distinct sections with comments and curly braces. A couple of his co-workers began to mutter among themselves, some saying that Herman had broken the system again, and others offering their sympathy that the project had gone awry. The cheetah was rather down about this failure, his paws still on the keyboard, waiting to start working again.

Another current of electricity shot through him starting in his right arm and traveling to his left. The CPU of sputtered, then began to whir, louder and louder. The animation program reopened, with a picture of Herman standing there, nude. He had the decency to be a little embarrassed that his coworkers were seeing him naked, but when he tried to reach the mouse and minimize the image, he found that his arms wouldn't listen to the commands his brain was giving them. They were locked in place, spasming ever so slightly as the current kept bouncing between them. He looked down, to see if maybe the jolt of electricity running through him was visible, but no trace of it showed itself outside of his body. Enraptured by the strange spasming of his arms, Herman only noticed something was up when a portly bear pointed to the computer screen and said: "Look! His arms are getting bigger!"

But Herman didn't need to look at the screen to know that was the case. It was happening in real time, right in front of his eyes, slowly and surely. It started in his forearms, veins pumping with blood as the muscle there started to swell in slow bursts. First they reached the size of an average male, before jumping up to the build of an athletes, and then skipping straight to bodybuilder proportions. Herman could only compare them to the instruments he was familiar with, computers and action heroes. His forearms reminded him somewhat of a super hero he worshiped as a kid, a dog who had only one weakness, an element found on another planet which every villain always seemed to have access to. That caped crusader was certainly one of the biggest people the cheetah had ever seen, but he wasn't real. And these forearms were quite real, he could feel the air against them, see his veins pulsing as the current moved upwards to his biceps. He could feel a meaty paw grab at his shoulder though his head was still stock still, too shocked to change direction as he watched his own fingers, once bony and delicate and now thick and powerful, reconnect slowly to his control. The crowd didn't diminish at all. In fact it grew from the concerned people wandering from other wings of their office to check on everyone. His biceps bulged slowly, pulsing each time like they were taking sharp breaths while the naked figure on the screen did the same. He couldn't imagine his code working so well, or how it had translated to his body but he was the first person to ever be transformed electronically. His muscles felt sore, it wasn't the kind of soreness he remembered from high school. This was much nicer; that feeling when he had been staring too long at a screen and his eyes were weary but not quite in pain yet.

The cat was starting to enjoy it even as the paw which had landed on his shoulder, a familiar bruin paw which he recognized belonging to the same bear who'd announced his sudden 'affliction'. It squeezed tightly to prove just how real his mounting size was. Each spurt of growth spreading the fat fingers further and further apart until he was big enough to make the action figure toppled on the desk beside his naked doppelganger embarrassed if it were even capable of such an emotion. He was massive, he was huge and growing bigger. It was exhilarating. Everyone was watching him, and that only made it more exciting. He could feel the surges drifting to his shoulders and that bear press his pudgy frame against the back of his chair getting as close as he could to this technological marvel.

As the surge left his now bowling ball sized shoulders, it split into two paths, one going down to his sternum, the other creeping along his spine. The sensation of it gave him the shivers, and his shoulders rolled into the paws of the bear, who was gripping rather tightly now, but wasn't making a dent in the cheetah's musculature. Eyes danced between the model on the screen and Herman, people clearly not believing what was happening in front of them. The computer model turned around, exposing a flat back. That was quickly changing, however, as the lats started to flare, growing outwards and upwards, shoulder blades pressing up against each other. Herman was watching the screen for this - with no way to see his back properly this was the best he could hope for - and feeling how his back shifted against the chair. The sleeves of his shirt, already tight from the thickness of his biceps trapped inside of it, was starting to become a bit restricting, almost cutting off circulation to his fingers and neck. His back tapered out into a V shape, thicker across than the back of his chair by almost double the chair's horizontal length. The bear's paws moved to Herman's sides.

The model rotated again. It looked a bit grotesque at this point - huge arms, massive shoulders, a broad back, but nothing in the front. The disproportionate nature of the figure had more than a few of the watchers blanching, but Herman was entranced, waiting to see what would happen next. The second he could feel his chest swelling, he turned his head to his pecs, watching as the already strained fabric on top of them started to push out, taking on a mounded shape from the old, flat smooth build. They curved out, stretching like slabs of concrete or granite. It didn't take much growth in his chest for his shirt to finally give up. A few tears started to form, first along the seems of the shoulders, then continuing down the back and even over his chest, connecting along the multiple fractures until it was no longer attached to him, exposing the fullness of his torso's muscles. His chest, now unbound, swelled outwards, forcing his nipples to roll downwards until the were pointing to the floor. He cupped his left pec, grinning as he tested the firmness of it, flexing and bouncing them for the crowd to see.

He tried to stand before the electricity pinned his legs for the transformation. He felt taller, like his spine had stretched to give him more control over the muscle being tossed on him digitally. He stood over the edge of the cubicle while those bear paws reached up to fondle his chest. He was being worshiped. He didn't quite understand it but he knew that bear was adoring his body as it grew bigger and stronger. If he wasn't prideful before he would be now. He glanced down at his belly, open and revealed, hardly remembering the audience or even the ursine admirer wrapped around his back as he flexed his arms and thought just how powerful he must seem. He could imagine his arms defeating ne'er-do-wells in any comic or movie of his choosing. Meanwhile his stomach rippled, deep creases forming with each electrical breath while he grew even stronger. Each pulse defining them more and more, fingers wandering through the folds of his muscle, tracing the sinew as he could feel the tingle of electricity, of digital information expanding his body, down into his hips, his legs and even to the depths of his crotch.

Herman didn't realize until just then how much he was enjoying himself. He was hard as stone. Hard as his nigh invincible chest had become. The rod of flesh was not very impressive but it was ecstatic. Pulsing hard with his heart beat as the power grew in his legs, pushing out on his slacks, pulling the fabric tighter with each and every 'breath' while he stepped back, pushing the crowd with him as he ignored the screen and started to pose. He wasn't really showing off. Well he was but that wasn't the purpose. He wanted to see how strong he was. He wanted to feel the strength in his body to watch the muscles flex and relax and tense and release. He watched as the sleeves tore more just with the curl of his arm until his polo was nothing but shreds and his pocket protector was discarded on the floor. Soon his legs joined the chorus of tears.

His legs, flexed along with the rest of his body, could not compare to his arms. For one thing, his quads alone were bigger around then his arms, and taking into consideration the entirety of his thighs, there was no contest which limb was the bigger around. All four of the distinct heads of his quadriceps flared out, pushing together into deep striations that the bear was busy tracing with his fingers. As the pants continued to tear off, more of Herman's legs became exposed, as did the rather tight pair of underwear he was sporting. From behind, his hamstrings took on an impressively notable curve, flaring out from his bubble butt down to his knee, almost cutting off the sight of that particular part of his body on account of the muscle surrounding it. Below that, the cheetah's calves expanded to horseshoe hardness, veins that would normally be unseen even on runner standing out and making themselves known to the world. He had to spread his legs apart further than he was used to, just so his thighs wouldn't rub together. When he tried to walk, his gait took on a bit of swing, one leg rolling in front of the other so that he could properly move forward.

Clad only in his tented briefs, Herman didn't care that his entire office was watching him shameless strut his new size, or the obvious boner he had. Who could blame him, either? He looked impossibly large, bigger than competitive bodybuilders, and all because of his success with computers. Nobody would suspect that this hulk, this beast of a man, was actually a technophile. The bear was losing the last of his restraint as well, now attending to Herman's muscles with more than just curious paws. On his knees in front of the cheetah, the bear ran his tongue along the inside of Herman's thigh, making the huge male shiver with delight, his already hard member twitching in its constraints. Herman tried to ignore the bear, not because he wasn't enjoying the sensation of having another male worship him, but because the electricity was back, stronger than before, and focused on his groin. It was almost painfully strong, focused on the most sensitive part of his body. But if it would cause the same kind of growth the rest of his body had experienced, he was willing and ready to accept it with open arms.

He winced slightly as his new sycophant grabbed desperately at his pert cheeks, kneading them gratuitously for the entire studio to see as the tent in his undies grew. This was different. It was stronger, more intense, hotter. He could feel it -- unlike the other parts of his body, which had grown with him aware of them, but almost without feeling as if he were removed from them; an observer of some kind. But this he felt, and it felt wonderful, beyond the words of a programmer. His balls were tugging at his scrotum, pushing against the underside of his briefs, making the already stretched out fabric strain with even more effort. How he wished he could see what was going on down there without having to look at the screen. But he refused to take off the underwear: it, like the rest of his clothing, would get shredded apart, and he wanted that as much as he wanted his package to be massive, to have everybody see a display of cock and balls undreamed of by any man. The length of his member increased rapidly, forcing the briefs to stretch outwards, exposing the base of his cock. He could feel the air rushing against him, and he wanted to look down and see it so much, but his bulging pecs blocked the view. He could just make out the head of his dick, covered by the almost translucent fabric, stretched so thin that he might as well not have been wearing it at all.

The tightness felt as good as the growth did. The fabric growing clearer as his arousal turned to genuine lust. Precum started to pour wildly from his head, soaking the fabric in seconds. The smell of his sex permeated the air, drifting around to the crowd, all paralyzed with either rapt, greedy attention or unquashable disgust but all of them impressed. He groaned deeply as his bear servant took the last step from acceptable to debauchery. He shoved his face deep into the growing balls, grinding his muzzle back and forth, eliciting a high moan from the cheetah as his dick surged again and literally shot his slick juice through the ruined fabric and onto the shirt of one of the coders in the congregation. He wanted to reach down and grab his coworker, either to thrust against his face or pry him off. Herman wasn't sure which but he fought the urge either way, letting the wet cotton split bit by bit as one of his fuzzy balls slipped free, awash in warm air and the first view he gave of his thickened maleness.

His virility was starting to become overwhelming, ripping more into the briefs until his cock head snapped free in a furious throb, precum spraying in thick ropes in front of him as a couple of his compatriots took themselves a sample and the others cleared a path for his lust to paint the floor. Meanwhile the worshiping bear, struggling to suck the balls growing to the size of his biceps then to his quads then each to the size of the model at home designed to perfectly mimic the station which was certainly no moon, was getting drenched. His shirt was stained forever with the musky smell of cheetah cock and he would have it no other way. Freed from it's confines though, Herman's mass of flesh took its wild spray up another notch, erupting like a cannon forcing more of the crowd to shield themselves from the rain of pre as his rod grew just as quickly and as massively as his balls, pulsing once with his quickened heart beat then again with the electricity still coursing through his loins. He was a fountain, a geyser, a volcano of lust, his muscles trembling and flexing in response to every ursine lick over his hypersensitive balls then up to his cock. He was in heaven as the head of his shaft swung up to his chin smacking him in the face with a thick sheet of his pre. The warm juice filled his muzzle with a brimming energy and he almost thought he could feel his whole body pulse again but his cock and balls were not to be ignored in this state and neither was the bear lapping at them in front of all his associates.

Herman so desperately wanted to grab his shaft, start stroking it for everything his muscles could provide, but he resisted that urge. He was going to ride this out for as long as he could without touching himself, letting the sheer sensation of growth and the bears ministrations get him to full climax. As it was, he was already firing off more than he had even managed to produce in a week, let alone in one orgasm. The feeling of euphoria was stronger too, his eyes were rolled back into his head already - he couldn't imagine what the actual climax would feel like, and hopefully it wouldn't come too soon. His balls were bouncing against his knees, pushed forward by the muscle of his thighs so that they stuck out farther than his feet. The size of those two orbs, at this point comparable to basketballs, couldn't possibly fit in the bear's mouth anymore, but it didn't stop the ursine from trying. Tongue, lips, and paws ran over the cheetah's testicles, standing the fur there on end as he shivered with pleasure. The load was building up, audibly gurgling in his immense sac. Another spray of pre fired from his tip, the full force of it landing on the co-workers in the back of the group who, until this point, had largely avoided getting plastered to such a degree. The scent of sex permeated the office. Even those who had been disgusted at first couldn't help themselves from becoming aroused at the sight and smell of the hyper-masculine cheetah. Some of the excess precum that hadn't landed on anybody was pooling up a bit on the floor in sizable puddles. He was holding back as best he could but his balls were rising up toward his hard, newly chiseled body. The gurgling was rising and the pressure was mounting. There was no feeling he could compare this to, the cheetah was too deep in pleasure, too far away from the rest of reality to really parse words anyway. He was curling his toes against the floor as his streams of musk washed over computers and the ceiling tiles and bodies until an unfamiliar, window rattling roar escaped his throat and the stream stopped for just a moment. He could feel the thick cream roiling through his cock, charging the feet from its base to the tip until, with a blast so hard it knocked the muscular Herman off his feet, his first ejaculation from his new body blasted everything.

Nothing was spared as the hot goo hit every one of his co-workers and washed over every cubicle. This would set the company back big time but the basement was full of back up servers that had to have kicked in during the power surge and were nowhere near the milky white blast radius. Instead it would just be computers and outfits needing replacement as the beads and pools and thick rivulets gathered around the office, blast after blast after blast making the cat quake with unadulterated pleasure. He could taste the salty sweet jizz gather in his mouth and feel the strings of it drooling down his face; he wished he could see the devastation but this was enough. His whole body was coated and there was still more to pump out.

The bear was riding his balls like a kiddie ride, every pulse of them pushing him up and down only to bring a little more sensation to them, dragging out his orgasm longer and longer. The electricity was fading finally, pouring out of him like the cum was draining now that its work was done but he was still huge, still cumming like nothing he'd ever witnessed before. But, ultimately, everything ends sooner or later. Later in this case but it ended all the same. The nearly constant stream died down to intermittent blasts, weak enough that it could be controlled and fought. Herman sat up and did his best to wipe his eyes clean before he glanced around. Most of his friends and acquaintances were recovering from the obscenity while a handful, his ursine sycophant especially, were savouring the aftermath, lapping up their paws and lips and even dredging some from the pools on the floor. Everyone and everything was sticky and a bit exhausted just from seeing the feline unleash such a load.

Herman laid his paws back to the floor and sighed content and impressed with himself and his accomplishment. He had not only completed his goal, but the result was wildly successful. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly how it was supposed to work, but nobody could argue that going from computer nerd to massive stud thanks to a computer program was a bad thing. It certainly seemed like his co-workers didn't mind, or at least not some of them. What had before been a noticeable amount of people disgusted by his growth had dwindled down to two people, a badger and a raccoon, and it looked like they had gotten the worst of the cum blasts. The pair were drenched head to toe, standing on the far side of the room where they thought they would be safest. Herman looked at them, a huge grin plastered on his face as he gave them a wink, beckoning them to approach him with an outstretched paw. The look of sheer horror on their face made him laugh.

Somebody moaned quietly. The cheetah turned to see who it was, having to look down and over his pecs to find the source of the noise. The bear was lying on floor, his arms and legs outstretched, like they were locked in place. A second groan filled the air, followed by a third and fourth, coming from the badger and coon. Once more the room filled with the crackling of energy, the smell of fur burning, combined this time with a strong overtone of musk. The lights didn't go out this time, but as the electricity in the room increased, so did the number of people who moaned. Herman, in the centre of it all, watched as the room was about to fill with men just like himself. His cock, still rock hard, started to twitch as it began to release pre on to the form of the growing bear at the cheetah's feet.