FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ian sat perfectly still as the owl listened to his heartbeat. He looked up to his new owner, broad shouldered stallion that stood at least three meters tall, his lustrous coat of black fur making Ian feel already more naked than he already was. Anthros always made the human a little uncomfortable, but he'd have to get used to it being the horse's new slave.

“How is he doctor?" the horse, a nobleman by the name of Kelgan Sebastian, asked.

The owl pulled down the stethoscope from Ian's chest and looked to Kelgan, head turning without moving his body. “Well, he does seem to suffer from a congenital heart defect. How that happened in this day and age I'll never know."

Kelgan snorted and nodded. “His family's owner was not particularly wealthy. Frankly I'm surprised this runt was allowed to live to adulthood, but I got a good deal on him. Will his condition cause us any serious problems?"

The owl looked back and nodded his head to one side. “I suppose not, so long as you don't have him doing any strenuous work."

“I hadn't planned on it. Runt is so skinny I'm surprised he can stand up," he said, almost acting as if Ian weren't there or couldn't understand his words. He looked to Ian, the human's eyes going wide as his cheeks grew flush. “Ian is it? You understand your situation, don't you? I am your master now, you are to answer to me and obey my every command, understood?"

Ian nodded, hands covering his groin as his legs squeezed tightly together. “Y-yes sir. I understand completely."

The horse smiled and nodded, the owl standing up from his seat to walk to a cabinet. “Excellent. I am to understand you came from a farm, correct? Do you know much about the lessers?"

Ian nodded again, shifting in his seat as the owl poured a strange looking into a glass. “Yes sir. I helped take care of cows, dogs, sheep, goats… um, h-horses."

The horse nodded again and looked to the owl. “Good, we'll try seeing how you do for a while. I'm sure we can find something that won't be too hard for you."

“Drink this please. All of it," the owl said, handing Ian the glass.

He looked into the glass a moment, the liquid a viscous looking white, it's smell oddly musky. He nodded and brought the glass to his lips, tipping it back to drink it down. The liquid was thick, bitter, the texture oddly slimy as it slid down his throat. It was a struggle to drink every drop, but the owl pressed a finger into the bottom of the glass, lifting it higher and higher until it was empty. He exhaled heavily, the smell clinging to his taste buds as he handed the glass back.

“Good, starting tomorrow you'll come to see me twice a day to get your doses. We'll see how your body handles them. If we don't see an improvement in your health we'll up the dose."

Ian felt clammy at the thought but nodded his head, being handed a large plain jumpsuit afterward. “Y-yes sir!" he said to the owl.

He slowly looked up from his hand terminal and sighed. “I'm a woman."

Ian's face paled and he swallowed. “I'm so-sorry s-ma'am! I've never met a bird like you before!"

Kelgan couldn't help but chuckle and pat Ian on the back. “Put on the jumpsuit and follow me. I have to show you around the premises."

“T-thank you Master Sebastian," he said, face feeling flush as his legs squeezed together, a hand covering his modest manhood.

The nobleman chuckled and took the cup. “Of course my boy, but save your thanks until we see results. And please son, call me Kel or Kelgan."

…

Ian found himself rathery surprised by Kelgan. The work that he was given to do was largely administrative. Checking and restocking food supply for the animals and staff, making sure the more exotic animals Ian had on the farm had their specialty dietary demands met. He very rarely had to do anything strenuous, and most of the time it had to do with the animals, which he didn't mind too much.

After a week it started to feel like his father selling him to pay off some debts was the best thing that ever happened to him. It was strange to think that it was only after he had become an adult and lost his family that he would finally find a family that didn't treat him like a leper.

He was even starting to feel better, stronger than he had in his entire life. It never changed, the same texture, same color and consistency, but he grew used to it, even began to enjoy it. Twice a day he went to the infirmary for his medicine. When he didn't start to treat it like Castor oil he started to notice it was slightly warm, a faint taste of salt.

When he'd asked Kelgan what the medicine was the nobleman only grinned and told him magic. Something about the way the lord said it made Ian believe him. Ian only began to understand exactly what was in it a little after a week of working for Kelgan. He was pulled from checking the cupboard one afternoon before lunch, being pulled to the stables, quickly recognizing they were heading towards the cows.

“Um, Master Kelgan? What is it you need me to do?" he asked, not having nearly as much trouble keeping up with the nobleman as he might have had a week ago.

They came up to a secluded corner of the cow stalls, seeing one of the cows, Dalia, being led into a padded stall. He heard a huff, the call and cries of some of the men as the tried corralling Samson, Lord Sebastian's prized bull, up behind her.

The pair were unlike anything Ian had seen. He'd seen plenty of bovines, anthro and lesser, but for lesser they were perhaps the pinnacle of their species. Samson was all muscle, calm power that could be unleashed into a destroying a castle with a charge. His balls were massive, easily as big as Ian's own head, probably bigger. Dalia meanwhile was soft, gentle, her udders massive, producing twice as much milk as the best cow on his old farm that tasted like ambrosia. What Kelgan fed the pair was no different than what Ian's family gave their own cows and bulls, but something was different. Maybe he really did know magic.

“We need some help with breeding Dalia here," Kelgan said, removing his coat and shirt before rolling up his pants legs. Ian pulled back at first, afraid of the bull, but Kelgan stepped up towards him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry son, we don't need you to help with Samson. We got plenty of muscle for that, but Dalia's a gentle soul. She always gets so worn out from the breedings and you work well with her. Just need you to stay near her head, keep her calm while he's mounting her and take her back to her stall afterward. I know you can do it my boy!"

Ian nodded, trying to make himself look calm as he rolled up the sleeves on his too-large jump suit. It was made for anthros much taller than him, his skinny five foot frame small enough that he was in constant fear of the jumpsuit slipping off his narrow shoulders.

He walked around to the front of the stall, drawing up to Dalia and petting at her muzzle. She looked as confused and afraid as he felt, but she calmed after a moment in his company. He found himself smiling, forgetting the bull until his weight mounted on her back. His eyes went wide as Dalia lowed out, body being pushed up against the front of the stall.

He tried to calm her, petting her muzzle, giving calming hushes, but his efforts were no match for the bull's strength and ferocity. His eyes slowly looked up at the four legged beast, noticing that the bull was looking directly at him, eyes unflinching as he drove into the cow. Ian couldn't help but match the bull's gaze, each thrust making his face grow flush. There was something hypnotic about the sounds, the snorts and grunts.

Then it ended in a shudder, Samson's muscles tensing and bucking for a few long moments, their eyes not breaking apart from one another until Samson was reined back off of Dalia. Ian shook his head to clear his mind and looked down at the now bred cow and stroked over her muzzle. “You did good girl," he gently cooed. She almost looked relieved for it to be done.

He was given the task of leading Dalia back to her stall. She was calm as he walked her away and directed her into the cell, beginning to close it behind her until he noticed her rear. Her tail was flagged, her bred mound gaping wide, bleeding thick white cream down her haunches.

He'd seen plenty of animals breed, but looking at Dalia was something different. The amount of semen leaking out of her cunt was unreal, he could swear her stomach even looked a little more rounded. Yet what struck him the most was the smell. It was oddly familiar, pungent, but alluring. He couldn't place what it reminded him of, but the scent filled his chest with warmth.

His mind filled with the image of the bull on Dalia's back, the tension and release of muscles, each thrust bucking her body with raw power. He felt inexorably drawn to Dalia's sex, grabbing at her haunches. She shuffled slightly, but kept her tail flagged for him as his mouth drew up to her folds. Part of his mind screamed to stop, to consider what he was doing, but he couldn't help himself as his tongue extended from his lips to scoop up the cum.

His tongue dipped into Dalia's sex, drawing the cum out of her folds and back into his mouth. It was so thick, drooling from his mouth as it filled his mouth. The bitter taste, the hint of salt, the musky scent that filled his nostrils, just like the medicine Kelgan was having him take for his condition. But it was different, fresh, warm, the taste so much more potent. He wanted more.

Ian's head drew back in, cleaning the gouts of cum that drooled out before they were tainted by her fur, nose pressing up against her slit to burrow his tongue deeper into her animalistic sex. The scent of the mating filled his lungs as Samson's seed slowly filled his stomach. His brow pressed up against the top of her sex as his tongue tried to get every drop, the muscle only able to get so deep.

He knew there was more, the smell drifting out, just out of his reach. He pulled his head back, nose and mouth covered in the musky drippings. He looked at his hand and Dalia's cunt, turning his body. His hand speared and he pressed into her bred sex, feeling the heat and wetness around his arm. She mooed out, but did nothing to stop him as he felt more cum cover his hand. He drew it back, licking his hand clean, desperate for more.

Hand plunged back in, withdrew, again and again in slow fashion, but it wasn't enough. It made his stomach growl, frustration beginning to mount in him. He let his wet arm fall to his side as his head pressed back against Dalia's cunt, pressing in to try and get his tongue in. He pushed harder and felt a give from Dalia's folds, her sex relaxing, allowing him to press his head in further. He wasn't prepared for it, but he was eager for more.

His shoulders pressed against her haunches as her wetness covered his head, stopping his attempt as he licked at her walls, chin and brow grinding against the folds that had just engulfed Samson's manhood. He thought of the bull, feeling his cock stir. He pushed harder again, hearing Dalia's muffled lows, but she spread open wider for him, letting his shoulders in.

Air started to run out but he didn't care, he needed more, tongue lapping at walls as he wiggled deeper, eagerly swallowing every thick, musky drop he found. He didn't realize his feet had left the ground until his tongue met the wall of Dalia's cervix, pliant and sponge-y. Panic filled him for a moment, but his tongue met a droplet from the opening. More of Samson's cum, stored in her swollen womb.

He kissed at the opening, his tongue pressing into the opening of the cow's womb, trying to taste it, pull it back. The cervix opened, muscles squeezed on him, pulling him deeper, head soon engulfed in the fluid. It filled his mouth, tongue bathing in the heavy cream. His lungs started to fill, but his mind was cloudy, being pulled deeper into the cow's womb. And yet, despite what might have been downing in Samson's cum otherwise, he felt perfectly fine.

He could breathe easily as he was pulled into the womb, his nostrils so packed full of the heavenly musk his head swam. He felt heavy, stomach slowly filling with the bull's seed, lungs full and heavy. His heartbeat began to slow, calming as he drifted off, hearing Dalia's own heartbeat echoing his own until he was asleep.

…

Ian woke with a start, sputtering as a trickle of heat washed over his face. He sat up and wiped at his face with his sleeve then looking around. He saw Dalia behind him, stall still open, her tail flagged as she finished emptying her bladder. He was soaked, the potent smell filling his nostrils making him cough and gag.

It wasn't the first time he'd passed out randomly. It happened from time to time with his heart condition, but usually while he was straining himself, running or lifting something. All he remembered doing was leading Dalia to her stall, which was hardly strenuous.

Then he remembered, the breeding, that smell, eating it, pushing into Dalia's cunt, being surrounded and filled with Samson's thick, virile seed. It seemed so vivid, he could swear he could still taste it on his tongue. But it made no sense. Dalia was a big cow, sure, and he wasn't particularly large himself, but still, to climb into a cow like that. Or even just to be so driven by the scent of bull semen to eat it from an animal's vagina. She might have been well taken care of, but she was still a lesser creature, there was no way he would do that.

He slowly stood, shaking some of the wetness off of him and brushing off the dirt before closing Dalia's stall. As embarrassing as it was to be urinated on by a cow, he was a bit grateful that she had woken him up. If one of the other staff saw him unconscious or even Master Kelgan had seen him they might try to sell him off, or worse. He was a slave after all, property.

He swallowed and gave Dalia a pat on the rear before walking away from her. He unzipped his jumpsuit, trying to wring out his sleeve, and noticed something was off. The jumpsuit felt tighter on him. His height was the same, but as he stopped and looked himself over he realized his body had filled out.

He'd gained weight, a rather healthy amount of it too. He'd been skinny his entire life because of his heart condition, but he was downright chubby now. He had a belly, his thighs were thicker, arms, ass, even his cheeks were fuller. More concerning though was his chest, where had grown breasts. More than that, they were women's breasts, round, full, soft.

This very clearly wasn't a dream, it was quite real. His heart started to race to the point he thought he might pass out again, but he ignored it and ran to the servant's bathroom. He locked the door, propped a chair up against it before he stripped down. He couldn't believe what he saw, everything reflected, but given context now.

He looked like a woman, his already narrow hips more slender, hips wider, his features softer, even his hair was longer. There certainly was no denying the breasts either. He brought his hands to them, feeling them, squeezing them. They were sensitive, heavy, they almost felt as though they were… He looked down, drawing his fingers to his nipples, giving them a squeeze. Milk sprayed out from them in all directions like a shower head. He was lactating, like he was a mother or… a cow.

Ian leaned against the wall, as his head started to spin. If it weren't for his cock, which certainly wasn't big by any measure, and between his now more generous looking thighs looked even smaller, it would be easy to mistake him for a woman. How was he going to explain this to Master Kelgan? He didn't even understand it. One moment he's perfectly level headed, the next he's trying to clean out a cow's womb with his tongue and wakes up barely a man.

He wouldn't even die a man.