FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Rick examined the farm in awe as he entered its gates. The expanse of land before him was massive and bustling with life. There were massive chicken coops, pig pens, and cattle roaming about the lot. “Hey there Mick!" shouted a man to his right, throwing Rick off balance for a moment before he could regain his composure, tipping his hat to the farmer approaching him. “It's 'Rick' actually. You must be Mr. Thomason, pleasure to meet you sir." Rick smiled and nodded his head in a show of respect to the man. He wasn't very intimidating, in fact, he looked quite like one would expect a farmer to look like, a bit on the heavier side, wearing a plaid shirt and overalls. Mr. Thomason seemed like a friendly man, and Rick had heard that he was indeed as such. Rick, on the other hand, looked more like a cowboy than anything. He wore a red flannel that blew softly in the wind, and had the lean build of a soccer player, if only a bit more grizzly than one. Nevertheless, everyone always said that Rick had a southern charm to him.

“I'm glad to have a strong man like you taking up a job here!" Mr. Thomason explained with glee, “it's not every day that we get blood as young as you on the job!" Rick only nodded in appreciation of Mr. Thomason's fine words. He certainly could've picked a better job, maybe even worked a rodeo if he wanted, but his parents had forced him onto the farm, and he sure as hell didn't want to disappoint them. It was good money, too. “So," Rick began to ask, “where are the other farm hands?" Rick looked around trying to spot one, but couldn't find any wandering the plot. It was odd for a farm this big to be operating at such minimum capacity, especially during such a nice summer. Rick could feel the heat on his brow, and was already starting to sweat.

“Hold yer horses cowboy," Mr. Thomason said with a laugh, “you'll be meeting everyone very soon. For now, follow me. You're going to be working in the milking shed." Rick did as he was told and followed Mr. Thomason, unbuttoning his shirt in a futile attempt to beat the heat. As they approached the shed, Mr. Thomason sprung ahead and grabbed a cool glass of milk that he had left waiting there just for this moment. “Try this," Mr. Thomason said, handing Rick the glass of milk to help cool him down, “you need to know what kind of quality we expect on this here farm." Rick gulped it down quickly. The milk was fresh, sweet, and most importantly, cold. He couldn't have asked for a better refreshment. “Now," said Mr. Thomasson, “follow me into the shed, we've gotta hook you up."

“Hook me up to what?" Rick asked in confusion, finishing up the glass of milk.

“I mean set you up, cowboy," Mr. Thomason smiled, “that's what I meant." Mr. Thomason moved towards one of the milking stalls, leading Rick in. “Ya see these here things?" Mr. Thomason asked rhetorically, pointing to the harness and milking equipment, “these are the tools of your trade. Now, lets get you settled in." Mr. Thomason said, tapping his feet impatiently.

“But there's not a cow her-" Rick was cut off by an odd feeling in his gut that began to radiate outwards, filling the rest of his body. The sensation covered every inch of Rick, his cock growing hard in his skinny jeans, which left a clear outline for all to see. Rick moaned softly, as if all notions of embarrassment drifted away with the feeling. He didn't care that Mr. Thomason stood right in front of him with a maniacal grin spreading across his face, all Rick could focus on was the pleasure of the moment. He could feel himself changing. From the opening in his flannel shirt, dark brown fur began to spread across his chest and down below his clothing, slowly but surely. Meanwhile, a large wet spot formed in Rick's pants as the bulge grew even tighter and pre leaked out of his cock, which was now firmly pressed between his right thigh and the ever tightening fabric of the pants. He could feel his balls swelling, churning, waiting to be free of the pants so that he could spread his seed. They grew heavy in his pants, as did his cock as everything grew tighter.

Rick's chest and stomach expanded against his flannel, which was increasing in tightness as well, hugging his now furry, muscular body. Rick's shirt quickly burst, unable to take on his growing weight, the beast's powerful chest and firm, yet round muscle gut breaking free of the clothing. With haste, Rick unbuttoned his pants, his underwear ripped as his cock and balls continued to grow. His balls fell low between his legs, each as big as grapefruits. His cock was large and thick, and pouring with pre as he continued to change. Horns sprouted from Rick's head and his mouth and nose pressed forward to form the muzzle of a bull. Rick let loose a loud, cow like “moo", copious amounts of cum spraying from his cock as his spine began to curve, forcing him on his hands and feet, which had quickly become hooves. The bull that was once Rick let out an audible huff as he stood in all of his glory where Rick once had. He could still feel his massive, low hanging balls churning in ecstasy.

Without warning, a harness fell over the bull's muscular back, Mr. Thomason running his hand across Rick's new form. Rick snorted loudly, almost panting from exhilaration. “You make a mighty fine bull, Cowboy. A perfect stud." Mr. Thomason crouched, running his hands over Rick's mighty chest and belly, tugging ever so slightly on the bull's thick cock, eliciting yet another “moo" from Rick, his new, bull-tail flicking from side to side in pleasure. Though Rick couldn't see, Mr. Thomason grabbed a milking device from the corner of the room, and attached it to the bull's throbbing cock, turning it on with a smile. Rick let loose a soft groan and yet another “moo" as the device pleasured him, milking his cock and balls of their precum until he would have another orgasam. Mr. Thomason slapped Rick's side playfully before rubbing the bull's chest once more. “Who knows," Mr. Thomason said, rubbing Rick's powerful chest, “maybe once we fatten you up, we can milk these bad boys too!" Mr. Thomason laughed loudly as he went to leave the stall.

“Don't have too much fun, Cowboy," Mr. Thomason said, tipping his hat to the bull.

Rick “moo"ed softly in worry, and then louder once more as he orgasamed again, his balls pumping out load after load of thick bull cum into the milking device. The bull closed his eyes and took solace in the pleasure, his round, grapefruit sized balls, and thick bull cock yearning to shoot his next load, to make more sweet milk.