FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He was eager with anticipation when he settled down in the conductor's chair.

The machinery hummed to life with a start, the whir of fans bringing the tiniest breeze to the sweltering room. Overhead, the pipes pulsed, pulling liquid through purity filters, the information relayed directly to some subconscious part of his brain. He expanded his thoughts, and the robots on the warehouse floor above buzz and crawl like insects, pulling finished goods from the hive-like inventory cubbies and driving them over to the conveyor, to be boxed and shipped out.

Naoki breathed and the ventilation fans turned on, cooler air gusting across his body like a slap. His eyes reflexively opened, the camera feeds replaced with standard, old-fashioned vision. It was dark in the nest, the only light coming from the now-outdated terminal screens: some of them the same camera feeds he'd been watching, but most just a simple progress display, bright green blocks in a line. It was at 99%, and had been for a few days, and he was getting so anxious about it he couldn't concentrate on his actual work. Not that he needed to be there for most of it; that was kind of the entire point. The helmet was heavy and pinned his ears back weirdly and it buzzed, disorienting, and even though he was the one who'd hooked it up in the first place, he was getting real tired of it. It just would be real nice to finally be done with this, go on to other things -- and in that instant the progress bar hit 100% and started over, bright blue and much faster.

Uploading a mind was a simple thing; just wear a brainwave helmet and it'll pick up enough information in an instant to simulate a personality. But collating and organizing that information into a reputable AI construct took time, and the longer the brain imprint the longer processing it took. The bar kept filling up and restarting, icon after icon appearing below, replicated -- with some variation -- on the screens, until they were packed full. He could barely read a single one of the glyphs, but they were familiar shapes: one had to do with personality, one had to do with motive, one had to do with technical ability, and then a thousand more for all sorts of minutiae.

The cameras in the room whirred to focus on him, their beady red eyes turning his fur an uneven purple, and abruptly the ventilation opened the entire way, cold air pooling across his legs, uncomfortably chill after the sweltering heat of the machines.

"H-hey," he started, voice a little rusty -- it wasn't like he had to talk a lot at his job, after all; he was the only person there.

The monitor directly in front of him shifted; the picture juddered and then suddenly he was looking at his own face. It was polygonal and primitive, blocky eyebrows and ears like spikes, and the voice that crackled out of the speakers was like the worst lo-fi encoding possible. "Sooooo heyyyyyyy," it drawled, crackling more, and then the pitch and timbre shifted wildly. "Wow, I really thought that speech synth was better than this," his face said in something closer to his actual voice, although there was still a distorted buzz humming below the surface.

He remembered that speech synth: a special board he'd bought months ago, with drivers that barely worked and speech-processing that was mostly useless. He'd chalked it up to just a bad install.

"Uh..." he said, staring blankly at the monitor. His head, onscreen, redrew itself, his face filling out, eyes sparkling, subsurface muscles getting added one by one as it tried out smiling, frowning, baring his teeth. There was a brief flash of it, totally photo-realistic: his head, floating in a void, lit by an unknown light, his hair in disarray like it always was, his ears drooping back behind where his shoulders would've been, their tufts looking as perfectly lopsided and ragged as they did in real life. Light glinted off his eyes, tiny specular dots, and spread much more diffusely across the wet pad of his nose. But then that flash was over and he was staring at a much more cartoonish avatar, all black lines and flat fills. The smile it had on was a little unsettling.

"So, things are a lot roomier in here than I expected," his newly-awakened AI self said. "They really do have a lot more processing power than they need, like, at all."

"U-uh, so could you show me the, um, projected schedule for today."

The him onscreen laughed. "Don't worry about it, I could take care of all that blindfolded. It really is super easy; I'm glad I don't have to really think about it much, because, wow, boring." And his AI eyes turned back towards him -- not that him, the AI, could see him through the monitor; if him-as-an-AI was watching, it was through the camera. "It's not exactly interesting work. I'm sure you have a lot more interesting things to do."

"I'm not sure what you mean--" he started, voice uncertain as he stared back at his computerized face.

"Oh please." The AI's voice is almost exactly like his, the static buzz rising and falling like it's a natural part of his voice. His intonation is sharper and more eager than he can remember his own being in recent history. "I know we -- you -- like playing all innocent, but what exactly were you planning on spending all your new free time doing?"

He made a vague noncommittal noise, shifting back and eying the door. "I'll tell you, then," the AI said, and from some confluence of speakers and reverberation the voice sounded like it was coming from right beside him, hissing in his ear. He jolted away, reflexively.

"You were going to go home and get out your toys, and leave me all alone here with the busywork." Onscreen, he pouted, his eyes squeezed shut in overacted dismay. "You know," he said, his voice sliding lower and rougher -- something that sounded absurd when he'd tried it, alone, in his apartment, but here the AI is managing to make it sound... like something, that's for sure. "I don't have a body anymore, so now I can't really enjoy myself properly anymore. And whose fault is that?" His voice is a low thrum, one that echoed in his bones, and he was already flushed from the heat of the room, but now he's blushing. "We had all these plans, and now that I can't do them myself, I think I'm going to need your help."

"U-uhm..." he stuttered again, face hot, mortified by the low throb of heat down through his stomach, his dick stiffening in his pants.

"Here's how it's going to go:" his face said, way, way more authoritative than he's ever sounded in his entire life. "The robots here are garbage, and it's going to take a little while before I can put something... suitable together. But until then, you can give me a little show." His voice -- his own voice -- hit his body like a punch, bass rumbling in his bones. His body vibrated, his cock stiffening against his thigh. The sound waves felt like a physical force against his body, the AI's voice sublimated under a barely-audible bass drone. Goosebumps prickle on his fur, all across his sides, and he shifted in his seat almost reflexively, his cock pulling away from his thigh, heavy and heated between his legs.

"I don't--" he started, but the AI just laughed over him.

"We both know you do," he said, and suddenly the image on the screen is a lot more pornographic. It's him, in streaming video, in the same exact room: every tangle of wire and humming computer, the cracked walls, the thin pillow he's sitting on, all identical save him: he was spread out on the ground, shirt rucked up to his neck, pants spread around his thighs, and his cock was enormous, spanning across his chest and drooling precome into his shirt. He's stroking the base of his cock, fingers tugging at his balls -- equally oversized, like grapefruits, pulling up tight against his thighs. He couldn't control the whimper that burst from his throat. His cock was dizzyingly hard, straining against his clothing.

"Or maybe you'd prefer something like this..." his voice said, directly behind him, and the image fluctuated for a moment before focusing: he's still spread out, but his hands are pinned above him by some robotic limb, and his cock is being massaged, a clear tube locked around it, heavy straps hooked around his waist and tightly over his balls, tubes spiraling out of camera. He writhed, and suddenly there's audio, his own whimpers and gasps almost deafening as the him on-screen bucks up against the tube, its plastic clattering against itself as he vainly tries to apply friction anywhere. He's pouring out precome -- both in the video and in real life; his pants are rapidly becoming damp and the smell of his arousal is pungent in the room -- and grinding side-to-side, gasps coming more and more erratically as his cock visibly throbs inside the tube.

"That's what I'll do to you," his voice said. "But since you haven't given me a show yet, I'm thinking you deserve a little punishment." Naoki flinched; his cock, if anything, got harder. "After all, I made that for you, gave you a little taste of what you want. The least you could do is return the favor."

Suddenly his AI counterpart looked to the side, eyes unfocusing. "These machines are really out of shape," he said, absentmindedly. "But I guess that's our own fault, right?" He paused again, nibbling on his lower lip. "Oh, here we go!"

The door to the computer room swung open with a crash, and Naoki started back, looking at his own disheveled appearance, stripped down to just pants and an undershirt, his cock bulging obscenely out, the fabric soaking through with precome. His mind drew an utter blank, thinking of what to say if someone were to see him, but... a mechanical construct slid into the room, on the clunky rail track above the doorway. It was an old-fashioned articulated limb, three lengths of machinery with a hinge between them, and as it slid into the room it whirred into position, its clamp-hand opening and closing as it reached for him.

He didn't dodge as fast as he could have -- for reasons he was choosing not to think about -- and when the clamp caught him across the neck he froze in place, his entire body going tense. The clamp pushed him gently but inexorably to the ground, flat on his back, and in seconds more limbs whirred into the room, their clamps fastening around his wrists and ankles. "Did you know the vats have a 0.006% per month fluid sublimation rate?" the AI said, chipper. "And that loss is expected in all official transfers? Even though it's totally possible to fill the vats completely (against safety regulations) and so avoid that? And that means, given what we have on hand in the warehouse right now, I have around, oh, a cubic meter of officially-endorsed internationally-certified Muscle-Gro(tm) performance enhancement product?" The AI tapped his chin with a suddenly-appearing finger, barely visible on a monitor in his peripheral vision. "Well, maybe not certified safe in those dosages, but that'll just be our little secret, hmm?"

Naoki could feel his face darkening with a flush, his cock stubbornly erect. "You can't--!" he said, cutting off with a gasp as a heretofore-unseen machine groped him, articulated phalanges sliding around the bulge of his cock with mechanical precision.

Onscreen, the AI rolled his eyes. "I can and I will, don't even try to pretend you don't want it." He leered. "And that cute little flush is so adorable on you. I wanna see what we look like a little more agitated." The fingers (fingers? finger-like articulated gripping phalanges, from the machines that required a more delicate grip) stroked his cock, then tensed and pulled, ripping the seams of his pants apart. The air was cooler across his bare skin, even in the hot and humid room. The air was heavy with the smell of his own precome and now with the faint oil-and-metal smell that pervaded all the machines. His cock bulged out, thin underwear straining against his size, putting pressure against the thin strips of fabric left clinging across his crotch.

"Oh, that looks bigger than what I remember," the AI said. "My memory from after you started the upload is a little hazy." The fingers resumed stroking across his cock, the smooth plastic slick with precome; Naoki whimpered softly. "I guess that latest supplement worked pretty well, then. I'll have to order more for you." Naoki squeezed his eyes shut, cock throbbing of its own volition between his thighs, the shreds of his pants almost-painful lines of pressure along his cock. One of them was fraying, snapping thread by thread, and he just couldn't keep from squirming, breath coming shallow and fast as his cock jiggled and rolled. His cockhead was caught in his underwear, mashed against the fabric, and each slow spurt of precome flooded up the length of his cock and out, seeping through the fabric and soaking his inner thighs.

The fingers trailed down to his balls, stuck under the curl of his cock, and Naoki wailed again, his cock spasming with enough force to snap through what was left of his pants, the shreds breaking with a sharp one-two-three rhythm, underwear tearing apart afterward to let his cock simply burst out, flopping across his stomach in a spray of precome.

"That's good," the AI said, in a low murmur. "Almost an inch. Well, I'm sure I can do better." Humiliatingly, Naoki knew the exact measurements; the latest blend ("Authentic ancient herbal remedy, guaranteed 100% effectiveness or your money back!") had added three-fourths of an inch to his cock size, bringing him up to just a hair longer than eleven inches. It made him dizzy when he took it, daily, in the morning along with all the rest of his vitamins. The fingers stroked up and down his cock, control precise enough to wind across the fat veins bulging across his shaft, webbing in clusters from the underside of his cockhead, curled around the base. Dim whirring caught his attention; he could just barely look up to see yet more machines pushing into the room, things he'd never even seen before in the factory.

"Did you know there was an industrial machines manifest on the floor plan? There were all these amazing things, mothballed in the back of machine storage." The AI's voice was bright and chipper, with a manic edge. "I can't believe they just let them all sit around doing nothing."

More fingers came down, machines jostling against each other until the rail all the way around the room was packed full, clamps and phalanges and industrial brushers, all sorts of things improvised to hold him steady, hold him down.

"Now, I was thinking of starting simple," the AI said, and the steady whir and clatter of machines overhead changed to something sharper. One of them sprayed something sharp and medicinal across his cock, the cool fluid making him hiss, and suddenly there was a sharp pinprick, the barely-perceptible sensation of something being pumped inside him, before something else was sprayed across his cock, thick and goopy all along the underside.

Naoki made a shaky noise, curious and afraid at the same time. "W-what was that?"

"Oh, you know," the AI said, with a careless shrug of his shoulders -- he had shoulders, hands large and cartoonish, arms like toothpicks connecting them. "Just a little blend of my own."

Already his cock felt... hot. Heated and over-sensitive, the slow scrub of his stomach fur rubbing across the shaft close to painful. Whatever goop had been slathered across it was dripping down his stomach, mixing with his precome, smeared all through his fur. His cock matched his heartbeat, throbbing against his stomach in rapid bursts, the ache intensifying as it stretched, his cockhead creeping up his stomach in uneven bursts. His cock was swelling outward, bulging thicker even as it grew longer, the chambers of his cock growing outward in slow throbs, spreading thickly across his stomach.

The AI made a low hum, or more like a moan, and then he felt another pinprick, lower down his shaft, and his balls joined in the burn, heat outlining each turn and furl of the tubes in his sac until the sizzle hit his balls directly. It hurt, but more than that he could feel them growing, the ache racing up his spine and leaving him breathless as his balls plumped up, weight concentrating between his thighs as they swelled larger. They pulled at the base of his cock, weight skewing his cock to the side as he jerked and writhed.

"That's a good start." The whine of machinery almost drowned out the AI's words as the clamp across his neck finally disengaged, giving Naoki a clear view across his body. It felt like something shorted out in his brain; his cock was huge, not just a full foot but half again after that, lying heavy and squishy across his stomach and chest. His cockslit was gaping open in a wide oval, precome oozing out in sluggish spurts, thick and crystal-clear, threaded through with off-white strands. His hips jerked, practically involuntarily, and his cock lolled across his stomach. The fat rolls of his shaft bunched and shifted as it came to rest, lying across the lean cut of his hips. A jiggling string of precome drew out from his cockhead and trailed down to the floor. His shaft was flushed bright red, his white-and-purple coloring changed to red-and-magenta all across his crotch, brightly flushed skin clashing with his fur.

The rising mounds of his balls were visible even lying down, the still-growing orbs brushing against his inner thighs, even with his legs spread. His sac was almost painfully tight as they grew, his skin stretched around them, bulges and lumps of cord pushing against the tight skin.

The last shreds of his pants and underwear were plastered wetly across his body, clinging to the side of his cock or over the curve of his balls, the fabric saturated and almost black. They covered less and less of him as he expanded, pulling to the side until they were just little crumpled scraps.

Each throb of his cock was almost dizzyingly arousing, all the more-so now that he could actually see it. He was so hard it hurt, and still his cock looked soft and heavy, lying impossibly thick across his stomach. He whimpered, rolling his hips to get even the barest friction, but the mechanical arms clamped down around his hips, locking him in place.

"Now, now," came the AI's voice, from the monitor directly in front of him. "I said this would be a punishment, and, after all, just giving you what you've always wanted is hardly a punishment." He grinned down at Naoki, spread out in front of him. "I'll make you beg for it, but, you know, later." He waved a hand, like the scene in front of him wasn't interesting at all. "We're just getting started, after all."

"What are you g-going to do to me?!" Naoki said, his voice coming out in an uneven squeak, catching in his throat.

"I think you already know what I'll do," the AI said, smug. "I know every one of your little dirty fantasies, the ones that you jerk off to shamefully in the night. And I, for one, am tired of sitting around watching you practice self-abnegation." His cock throbbed painfully across his stomach, glistening strings of precome webbing across his matted fur.

"I--" he started, and the AI cut him off, shushing.

"When I want you to beg, I'll tell you. What I want to do now is experiment." The cartoon avatar on the monitor looked positively maniacal.

Naoki opened his mouth to speak again, and quick as a flash one of the arms stuffed something in his mouth -- shreds of fabric, absolutely reeking of his precome -- and held it in place. Arms whirred to life across his stomach and crotch, ghosting over his thighs, and he reflexively shrunk back, pushing against the pillow below him. The clench across his balls as he tried to pull back was dizzying, pressure and heat almost painful but still sending shocks of pleasure in hot ripples across his stomach.

Fluid pumped sluggishly through the tubes across the ceiling, a handful of machines hooked up to the mains; transparent cords running along their mechanical arms, down to syringes or pumps, or, in one case, a perfect model of his own dick, dripping something purple and viscous. The AI saw him staring and grinned. "You'd be amazed at how fast we can machine replacement attachments."

Naoki shuddered, muscles going tense as the syringe-arms pivoted around him, thin fluid forming drops at the tips. "You've always wanted this, you know," came the AI's voice -- his own voice -- in a soft lull. "I think I'll start with your thighs. I mean, you've always wanted to be a little more curvaceous." As if simply to punctuate the statement, twin syringes slid into his sides, plungers pumping as they fed -- something -- right into him. He knew it had to be just in his mind, but he swore he could feel it burn as it spread through him, heat washing over his thighs and ass, a warm glow spreading up his stomach and down his legs, rushing down and ebbing back in a slow cycle until it was all he could think about.

The skin across his hips was burning hot; the heated air felt shiveringly cold. The ache as muscles shifted and grew was bone-deep. His skin flushed erratically as his hips swelled, new muscle feeling strange and powerful. It was heavy in a way he wasn't used to, his ineffective struggles hitting the metal clamps with more inertia. Even just looking down across himself the change was evident, his thin hips given a new kind of definition, rail-thin legs now sweetly curving outward, waist a fraction thinner. His fur was matted to his skin with precome and sweat, sticking up in spikes all across the new curves of his hips, his flushed skin fading into a rich pink beneath his fur. Between that and his cock it was like looking down at someone else's body entirely. One that was -- one that was way hotter than his own.

His ass was felt more than seen; cheeks squirming against the pillow, sopping and flat. Even that felt different, fur scraping back and forth against the thin plush, a line of heat sizzling down his ass as he tried to grind against the floor. His asshole was hot, slick with the precome slopping down his sides, and the same extra muscle across his hips made his cheeks swell against the pillow, his asshole flexing and twitching reflexively.

"I think that went well," came the AI, grinning down at him. "For an introductory trial. But we'll have to work on something more effective, really, I think you've always wanted a little more sway in your walk than that can give you." Onscreen, he reached out a hand, and the metal limbs mirrored the movement, thin fingers and the sides of clamps drifting up across his stomach. "But there's so much of your body left to fix up before we consider any, hm, serious modification."

Naoki tried to speak through the gag, his "I don't--" coming out as a mangled grunt before he simply stopped, tongue overwhelmed by the thick taste of his own pre. Between the heat and his altered cock, the entire room reeked of sex; the soggy gag was practically pluming out his own musk. The room outside the nest of machines seemed hazy and unclear, a million miles away.

Clamps locked down over his shoulders, pinning him securely down. Above him, more machines whirred, a set of dripping syringes splashing thin, sparkling fluid across his chest before they pushed inside him, two on each size stabbing into the meat of his pectoral. Even held immobile he had to turn his head away, stare dimly at the translucent fluid flooding down the tubes. This time the heat was definitely no illusion; it felt like hot tendrils wove across his chest, pulling a ragged (and muffled) gasp from his mouth, teeth chewing on the wet fabric as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved, the syringes -- at some point removed from him -- hanging overhead, translucent orange slime beading down across his chest.

The clamps around his shoulders retracted, giving him a better view of his body again. Given the heat pulsing through his body it felt like he ought to see bulging veins, huge red sores from the syringes, but it was just his chest, flushed but otherwise the same thin, lithe planes it always was. But slowly he could see the changes, as they crept across his body. His nipples were stiff nubs, peeking from his short fur, and they tensed and then tensed again, pulling themselves into higher and higher peaks with each trembling surge. It was like they tightened, erect, but they never stopped. His own skin shifted and bulged, growing heavier against his chest. It was like pinpricks, like static across his nipples, the skin red and stretched tight, swelling outwards in spurts, each one echoed by a sharp inhale through his nose.

The sharper heat spread out across his chest, swelling out like an allergic reaction; his skin turned glossy red beneath his patterning. His heart hammered in his chest, body visibly pulsing with each heartbeat, his nipples peaked and enormous on his swelling chest. The hard swell across his chest faded minutely, heavier flesh spreading slowly as the mounds -- his breasts, there was no mistaking their shape now -- grew larger.

His heartbeat rung through his entire chest, his chest throbbing angrily as his breasts swelled in size, soft and unexpectedly heavy over his chest, like weights as he lay there on his back. They had the same almost-painful sensitivity as his cock, nipples stiffening from simply the touch of the air around him: just the shift of skin stretching over his breasts sent pangs through his body.

The rising curve of his breasts rapidly blocked his view of the rest of his body, swelling from petite curves to something altogether larger. Their new weight spread them across his chest, settling on the outside of his ribs and jiggling with every heartbeat. His aereola bulged out into fat tubes, nipples heavy and thick at the tips. The shift of skin against skin, his fur rubbing against itself as his breasts sagged across his body, was both entirely new and strangely erotic. The wet slide of new flesh across his stomach was like a slow, rhythmic stroking, almost like being petted.

Their growth finally slowed, his breasts shifting across his chest with each breath, heavy smooth slopes jutting out from his body. Naoki's breath was fast and shallow through his nose, the jounce of his breasts somewhere between uncomfortable and enjoyable, the pressure against his ribs new enough to be a novelty.

"And now we approach the most delicate part of this process," the AI said, breaking his concentration. He let the gag go, fingers touching across Naoki's jaw in the same instant, the worm-like appendages carefully curling across the planes of his face. "I never did like my cheekbones. The lack of, I mean." The fingers carefully angled his head back and forth, the camera in the corner tracking his face. "Too bad that'd be too intrusive for a quick little fix-up. But..." he said, face curling up into an impossible smile, "I do have one idea that'd be simple enough, and I know you know exactly what it is." Arms clattered against each other as the AI spoke, tubes and syringes sliding into place. "Now, hold still."

A hollow tube pressed against Naoki's lower lip, some tiny amount of suction pulling a fold of his lip just inside, and he found himself going cross-eyed looking at it in front of him. The pinprick of the needle was entirely expected by this point, but the burn this time was highly localized, a low heat across the center of his lower lip. He left his mouth hanging open, slack, as the tube pulled back and sucked in the next segment of his lips, shooting another minute shot of thick fluid into his lips. He looked lopsided, half his lip swollen and gigantic, the machine slowly working to the edge of his lip and then starting over on the other side, until his lower lip drooped down, heavy and plump. It was flushed, a wet bloody red, his skin thin and stretched, and it was hard to even work his jaw with the added heft of his lip, but when the machine pushed up against his upper lip he went instantly still, staring down as it started work again. His flush had never faded, but now it felt even stronger, heat pouring beneath his skin, covering his mouth in a rich, oily heat.

"With your mouth all prettied up like that, now I think you should beg for it." He could barely focus on the AI's voice, his body a swell of sensation: his lips, the ache quickly fading into hypersensitivity; his nipples puffy and erect. The simple sensation of his upper lip sliding against his lower was an almost-painful chafe, his skin bloated and satiny. The machines whirred above him, displacing air in tiny eddies that blew across his naked body like soft breath, catching across the head of his dick, the peaks of his nipples. He whimpered.

"P-please." His hips rolled, and the AI gave him a minute amount of give, just barely enough to rut against one of the machine arms, the metal cool at first but rapidly warming. His cock slid back and forth along the metal strut, machine oil and precome mixing together, coating it in a slippery slurry.

"Ah ah ah! That's not good enough! I did you a big favor, after all, and now you just ask me for more?"

"Thank you!" Naoki said, the words coming in an abrupt rush. "T-Thank you for giving this to me, thank you for making me your--" He cut off, fuzzy mind looking for words.

"'Making me yours.' You're my little pet now, after all. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe and fed. I'll just try a few... experiments on you, now and again. After all, I know you'd want it just as much if our positions were reversed." His fingers tickled up along Naoki's balls, massaging the heavy orbs. "Say it."

"Thank you for making me your pet," he whimpered, arching up into the AI's touch. "Please, please let me come!"

The AI sighed, the sound like static crackling through the speakers. "That was pathetic. You know, I don't think you really want to." Naoki whimpered, body writhing as he tried to rub himself off against the machine arms. His cock was a new weight, still bizarre. It threw off his movements, bobbing wetly up and down. He had just enough freedom of movement for the fat, shiny cockhead to droop down against his stomach, leaving smears of precome in his fur.

"I think what you really want," the AI said, voice hitched and ragged, throaty, "is something more."

Naoki bit down on his newly-inflated lip, a broken whimper coming from his throat as the machines above him whirred into motion again. The sting of the needles came as what felt like a dozen different stings, all across the immense meat of his cock. The serum being injected was a chill, cold against the feverish heat of his erect cock, but in seconds it turned into a fiery heat, pulsing all through his body.

He whimpered, voice cracking as his cock began expanding again, the bloated head peeking over the swell of his breasts as it pulsed upward. It was spasming, each heartbeat spreading the serum, sending blood pounding through already-engorged tissue, bloating it bigger and bigger. His skin stretched, thinning until his cock was uniformly a hot red, his veins fat tubes branching all over its monstrous surface. He just watched it, dizzily, as it grew, far too fat to stand straight up, just barely clearing the rest of his body as it stretched upward.

It was painfully sensitive, the humid air a painful stimulation to his aching, stretching skin. He was spurting so much pre it was like slime, in clotted viscous strings entirely coating his cockhead, drooling down to his stomach in messy lines. More trailed down his shaft, tracing over the still-shifting surface, trickling down the routes outlined by his throbbing veins. More burbled out in a constant flow, his cockslit flushed and gaping, drowned under a viscous layer of precome as it spat out even more. Naoki writhed, cock swinging back and forth, and its movements jerked his own body around in response, the sheer weight of it jostling him.

It was bulbous, grotesquely-swollen, with the smooth line of his shaft completely destroyed. It swelled out, his shaft fattening just below the head into an immense stretched bulge, the tight lines of his cockhead comparatively thin compared to the meat of his shaft.

The pressure between his legs was enormous, the root of his cock inside his body not spared the same growth as the rest of it. His legs were still clamped tight together, until the grotesque bulge of his cock became a straining lump all along the underside of his thighs, like the start of a second tail just below his asshole. When the AI finally shifted his legs the sudden release was almost orgasmic in its intensity. His cock shuddered a few inches longer, foreskin dragged back even tighter, and the gaping "O" of his cockslit spread even wider as a hosing spray of precome burst all across his breasts, viscous stringy webs of it catching across his face, slowly drooping to land all across his shoulders and neck.

It was hard for him to even tell when the growth evened out. The shuddering throb of his cock rocked his whole body, the immense fat length just as big as the entire rest of his torso. He was lightheaded and dizzy simply from getting hard; half his blood in his horrifically huge cock, veins pulsing and fluttering with his rapid heartbeat. But sure at some point it must have stopped, leaving him shuddering and oversensitive, cock distended and gargantuan, constantly oozing thick clear slime.

The transformation was like an orgasm in every way save for release, the throbbing stretch sending his brain into white-out, aware of nothing save the fast, trembling tension as he pumped out what had to be liters of pre. He was still so desperately close, cock agonizingly heavy and flushed, but he just didn't have the freedom to move.

"I suppose that'll have to do," the AI said. "After all I can only work with your raw materials, and right now you just aren't quite all there." The AI's fingers stroked up Naoki's sides, machine arms whirring as the tendrils slid just beside his cock, only faintly gliding over the swollen, corpulent surface. "But I'll have lots of time to train you properly, so next time you'll have to earn your orgasm."

There was a wet splat as an arm pushed his cock down that last inch, plastering it against his body, pre splattering everywhere.

Naoki was so close it was hard to think of anything beside the throb of his cock: aching between his thighs, the sensation stretching up all across his body, ending with the head nocked against the hollow of his neck, his heavy breasts curved around the distended middle. He rutted up against the machines as well as he could, cock just shifting against him, wetly fucking his own breasts in tiny, minute jerks, just oozing thick bubbles of precome against his throat. The AI gave him more and more freedom of movement, slowly retracting his restraints, and he just thrust harder, his back arcing up in a perfect curve as he fucked his cock against his body, head slamming with more and more force against his own neck.

Finally -- just before he could come -- the nest of machine arms reached down at him, coiling fingers and tendrils all along his shaft. He whined, high in his throat, desperate for anything as they laborously dragged his cock upward, pneumatics whirring under the strain. Something gripped his cockhead and the shock ran through his body like a bolt as the final inches of his cock slid back and forth against a soft, heavy material.

A new tube descended, just barely large enough to fit his cock -- and thicker around than his waist -- and stopped just before his drooling cockhead. It had a dark ring of rubber-like material around the base, and that was what he was rubbing against, each thrust dimpling the ring. It angled to catch his cock, his cockhead sliding over the stiff rim with an obscene thrill of sensation, precome already sluicing down the inside.

"Well, I think I might do one more thing before I call it an evening," came the AI's voice, and suddenly there were weights against his hips again, holding him in place as the tube slipped over his cockhead, the rings slowly starting to pulse. It milked his cock, each fat ring being spread by his immense girth, slick and rubbery as they slid down his cock and then contracting, squeezing down just hard enough. Naoki let out a shrill moan, hips fucking up to bury his cock in the tube, simply ramming through a half-dozen sets of gripping rings before bottoming out, cockhead mashing against the end of the tube.

Only about half his cock could even fit in the thing. "Oh dear," the AI said. "I'll have to requisition a bigger tube for next time. Then again, next time you might be even bigger... I'll have to plan ahead."

Naoki just whimpered more, all thoughts blown out of his head aside from finally getting to come. The inside of the tube was already squelching, precome sluicing down the inside in thick waves, soupy and translucent as he cock churned in the thick mess. It gulped, wet slurping noises coming from the tubing as he rutted mindlessly against it, slamming his cock again and again against the end of the cylinder. His pre drooled out the bottom, the tubing at the top not pumping fast enough, more and more simply seeping out, coating the length of his cock and drooling all across his hips.

He finally came with a shrill yell, burying his cock into the tube and holding it there as its suction picked up, practically milking him for his load. His cock throbbed and pulsed, veins popping to the surface as he sprayed come all across its inside, its thick mess erupting from the base in a spray that coated his entire body, soaking him in his own load. He just kept coming, shooting over and over and over, until his orgasm had faded but he was just still going, acutely aware of the rippling pump of his cock, muscles spasming to spray burst after burst of come up the entire titanic length of his cock and deep into the machine armature.

By the time he finally stopped shooting, his hips were covered in a solid layer of come, thick strings of it pouring in uneven waves across his body. His entire body felt boneless. He squeezed the base of the tube, once, his fingers so loose he could barely keep his grip, and then he just went limp, fingers twitching as his arms came to rest beside him, mouth hanging open as he gasped for breath.

"That's definitely one for the archives," came the AI's voice, sounding more than a little wrecked. "That was way better than just whipping up some video."

"You know," the AI said, wheedling now. "it's past your end-of-shift now. Not that you should be seen in public like that, after all -- it might be bad for company morale. Or, maybe, too good for morale. I certainly think you look beautiful. Later I'll have to move you to a room with more cameras." His voice -- and cartoonish avatar, grinning down at Naoki's barely-conscious form -- was soft, endearing. Or as endearing as he got. "It'll be a loan, one that I'll make sure to extract payment for thoroughly. But, for now, I suppose you should rest. Remember: your shift starts at eight sharp, and it's going to be a long day!"