Sunday, October 1, 2017

“Formula FCR XL” -by FurCreamer

I did the thing, with the typing, and the keyboard, and the sentences, and the paragraphs.

Disclaimy stuff: Again with the philosophically questionable concept of non-consensual sex with a fur coat. Upside (maybe?) there is a girl inside this time, so maybe I’ve successfully reduced the “questionable” aspect.

Boring stuff: Half the story? Yeah, lot of exposition in this one. Sorry. You can scroll down to the last set of little asterisk thingies (* * *), which probably have a name but I’m too lazy to look it up. After that it is basically sexy-time to the end. Otherwise, enjoy the character descriptions and the vaguely plausible reasons provided for acting like morons.

Summary: A twisted-but-brilliant research scientist’s cure for impotence is a failure in humans until a coincidence reveals the catalyst that makes it work beyond her wildest dreams. (Spoiler alert: It’s a fur coat) (Spoiler Alert: D’uh).

Story Codes: MM/Fur Coat (that’s one you don’t see); M/F (smidgen).

“Formula FCR XL” -by FurCreamer

Elsa von Neumann’s meticulously sculpted brow furrowed when Cynthia’s tone shifted to pleading through the Bluetooth speaker in her right ear. “How bad is bad?” she cut in.

“Bad, bad. The stuff is everywhere.”

Elsa’s smooth features tightened further, framed by waves of blonde hair that shimmered under the glare of traffic in the opposing lanes. Those same lights danced across the rich black guard hairs of the blue fox coat collar upon which her blonde tresses mixed. “Dammit, Cynthia.”

“I know, I know, I’m sooo sorry, but you’re the only faculty member I could get a hold of and the rules say-”

“-I know the rules, Cynthia,” she said coldly to her student. “Shit doesn’t even work…” she muttered under her breath while more lights from the Friday night traffic streamed through the windshield.


“Just keep cleaning, I will be there shortly.”

* * *

Cynthia Feng tapped a long, black polished nail on the phone, even though the call already ended. The small, raven-haired, goth grad student felt even smaller merely by proxy to von Neumann’s imperious tones. The night in the lab rapidly climbed her list of “worst ever” without an appearance by the tall, blonde bitch goddess.

Doctor, she reminded herself quickly.

She motioned at the two figures visible in Lab B beyond the tall observation window. “She’s on her way, keep going!”

Ted and Chris, the only two people with worse luck this evening, returned their expectant gazes to the mops.

* * *

“Shit,” Ted said as the mop pushed through the clear fluid covering the floor of Lab B.

“Dude, is von Nuemann that smokin’ hot blonde?”

Ted shook his head, “Yeah, and she’ll clip your nuts before you get your zipper down. Don’t even trip.”

Chris squeezed his mop into a nearby bucket. “We’re standing in a pool of her boner juice!”

Ted couldn’t help but crack a smile, but it cleared quickly. “It’s not really boner juice, and, it doesn’t work. She was pretty much a bitch to start. Now the whole experiment is about to get canned, she’s turned that shit up to eleven.”

Chis, who was assigned to a neighboring lab and only dropped in to horse around with Ted earlier, looked a little crestfallen, “I heard it-”

“It’s supposed to be an impotence cure… You know, increase sperm production or somethin’” Ted shook his head, “But, it don’t do shit, and von Neumann’s been on a tear.”

“So… jizz juice?”

Ted’s eyes rolled, hard. “Keep mopping, asshole.”

* * *

Elsa von Neumann’s six-inch stiletto cracked to the asphalt below the driver’s side door. She slipped out of the sedan, pulling the long sweep of her full-length blue fox coat behind her. The door slammed shut with a certain finality in concert with the beep of the car alarm. She brushed out some errant hairs on the high shawl collar of the throw-back, 80’s mega fox and began stalking towards the door to the lab complex.

Under the incandescent light of the mostly empty parking lot, Elsa’s fur glowed a warmer blue. The hem of her form-fitting skirt and dark, nylon sheathed legs peeked through the lower expanse of fur as she made her way to the front door and entered with her key-card. The familiar beep of the door only stroked her ire. It was not something she was meant to hear tonight.

The mixer with the pharma reps would be well under way by now. Another opportunity to get new buyers for Formula FCR XL was lost. Elsa focused on the task ahead, pushing the rising chorus of doubt to the back of her mind.

Why would they buy something that didn’t work?

* * *

“Hey, Cynthia, can I get a coke? I’m thirsty.”

Cynthia hoped the withering glance was worthy of the best von Neumann so effortlessly mustered. “No, dipshit, keep cleaning. We’re in this mess because of you.” She moved a mop across the wet floor, pushing waves of spilled clear fluid across the sanitary tile.

“C’mon, this is hard work!”

Ted shook his head, “Shut up, man, just do it.”

Chris heaved a heavy, purposefully dramatic sign. He then flicked his gaze towards the unbroken stock of the lab’s testing materials. Lines of clear storage beakers sat on shelves against the wall, adjacent to the mixing area where the “incident” occurred earlier.

Toppling the enormous plastic vat required the sort of coordination that would seem planned. Yet the lab security footage was a simple review away from revealing bored student aides Chis and Ted bowling it over while jousting with cardboard tubes atop rolling lab chairs and making lightsaber noises.

“Hey, you said it doesn’t work, right, so this is just water… basically?” Chris said, hefting one of the 32oz containers. Each container’s label held stock numbers and a litany of warnings.

Cynthia squeezed her mop into one of the buckets with a huff. She just wanted them to shut up and clean. The two were responsible for this mess in the first place. She would never suggest she had much in common with Doctor von Neumann, but she had not expected to be here this late either. Canceling on the date with Allie to goth night had been her first call that evening. Cynthia wasn’t some hardcore life-styler and didn’t usually show up to the lab so fully gothed out.

“Fine, fucking drink it. You’re right, it doesn’t work.”

The frustrated retort caught Chris off guard, but not quite enough to dissuade him from his now singular focus. He opened the container and began to chug.

* * *

Elsa wound her way through the mostly empty halls. Only a few exceptionally dedicated or unlucky students and the janitorial staff inhabited the building this late in the evening. Fully made up for the pharma mixer she’d never reach, she caught more than a few glances from those that remained. Elsa was hardly above using the fact that most research scientists weren’t 33-year-old women in perfect condition who worked their way through grad school by modeling.

It made wrapping horny pharmaceutical reps around her little finger that much easier.

A couple of the reps she’d met before while wearing fur seemed yet more interested in her. An intriguing response, to her mind, but one worth exploiting. She’d borrowed this coat from her sister in order to fully capture their attention tonight.

A pout flared across her otherwise stern features when the “b” word crossed her mind. Elsa felt at ease using her sexuality, and was also not above “faking it until making it.” Looking filthy rich was a lot easier when your sister was a successful furrier, and she let you borrow her wares.

The truth was, she rather enjoyed wearing them. There was a certain power these huge fur coats projected, one that felt very natural to her. When she landed a distribution deal, she’d be rich enough to buy closets full of her own.

A distribution deal for an impotence cure that only worked on mice.

Her expression darkened further as the repeated failures on human subjects ate at her mind. Nothing yet had replicated the amazing effects seen in the mice. Sperm production nearly ounce for ounce as strong as their intake of the solution. It was better than anything on the market. Her plans had been to figure out how to safely cut the sperm production rates for general sale, as the current solution would be far too strong.

Imagine drinking a quart of the stuff, Elsa shuddered.

* * *

Chris finished chugging the 32oz beaker.

“Jesus, man, if that shit actually worked, you’d be pissin’ jizz,” Ted laughed.

Chris shrugged, “Tastes like water.”

“That part works, I guess. Now stop complaining and mop.”

* * *

Currently, the only thing drinking a quart of her “miracle” impotence drug, Formula FCR XL, did in humans was to create the urge to pee later. No increased sperm production recorded in any subject so far. It was like the early days of the mouse trials. In isolation, the results were dismal. Once they dosed the mice in groups, the results had been staggering. Strange, but highly successful. The mice were suddenly compelled to stroke against each other’s coats, rapidly reaching voluminous orgasms.

Cynthia’s complaints about having to clean up afterward were always… amusing.

The sudden success allowed Elsa to move forward with human trails, but, so far, nothing had worked. Even dosing multiple subjects at once in close proximity did not yield similar results.

Elsa turned down the hallway leading to the section of the building containing her facilities. She weathered another couple lecherous glances from the building janitorial staff before seeing Cynthia burst through the glass doors to their outer lab annex. Elsa’s eyes rolled as she regarded the small grad student in her goth “regalia”.

Cynthia, acutely aware of Elsa’s dislike of her fashion choices, simply said, “Sorry, sorry… I had other plans tonight too.”

Elsa knew there were far more reasonable things to be furious about this evening and simply nodded, “Yes, we have that much in common.”

Cynthia held the door for her, and Elsa swept through, the shoulders of the magnificently huge blue fox coat brushing the edges and Cynthia as she passed. Cynthia mused briefly on the irony that, between her striped leggings, corset top, and thigh boots and Elsa’s super giant fur coat, it would be the doctor who would stand out further in any crowd.

The fact that the tall, statuesque blonde looked gorgeous would also help, of course, part of Cynthia hated to admit.

“Ted and Chris are cleaning up,” she began, walking a step behind Elsa, who towered over the diminutive grad student even with the five-inch boost from the platforms on her boots. “I filled out an incident report. You can just wait while we finish up.”

“I presume the idiots were responsible?”

Cynthia nodded, in part from relief she wasn’t directly to blame, “Yes.”

“Ugh,” was the only response.

* * *

Ted squeezed the mop over the bucket, allowing in another rush of fluid. They were making progress. While large pools remained, much of the floor was clear. Chris had mostly shut up and kept mopping, content with a belly full of the doctor’s failed impotence cure.

This “dangerous controlled substance” was a joke.

The mind-numbing labor was nearly enough to forget the epic ass-chewing von Neumann would deliver, no matter what.

“Work faster.”

The intercom chilled the cold voice even further. Ted looked up from the mop. Jesus, he thought, she’s wearing an entire species. He let the initial shock pass as another part of him suggested, damn, that bitch is hot

Elsa stood behind the Lab B observation glass, long polished nail on the intercom button. Cynthia stood beside her, like a little goth pixie next to the towering blonde in the huge blue fox fur coat. She at least had a sympathetic expression under all that eye-liner.

Ted remembered his “partner-in-crime” hadn’t seen her yet. “Hey, you want to cop a glance while she’s only kinda pissed, now’s the time,” Ted suggested.

* * *

Cynthia recoiled from the glass when Chris rammed into it, despite not being the intended target. That, clearly, was Doctor Elsa von Neumann.

Elsa stood stock still, eyes locked on the groaning student aide as he violently thrust against the observation glass directly before her. A dark stain immediately began spreading outward from the crotch of his jeans. The darkness quickly gave way to the opposite, white, leaching through the thick fabric with alarming speed.

At first a single white blob, but it gave way to a full, thick stream which rapidly transferred to the glass with each pounding thrust.

Elsa’s eyes flicked down to his pants legs, where a steady flow of chunky white goo began flooding out each side. The bulge in the center of the increasing white mass on the front of his jeans grew larger and larger until his spurting, engorged cock ripped through his zipper and the button on his jeans popped off and struck the glass.

Cynthia jumped again when the button pinged off the glass close to her face then ricocheted near Ted. Ted grabbed his mop in a defense posture and stated, “What. The. Fuck. Dude.”

Now fully on display, Chris’s raging hard-on sprayed loops of white jizum against the glass directly in front of Elsa. Cynthia tried to look away, but couldn’t. The Sino-American grad student was no stranger to the male organ, but she’d never seen one so big before “swearing them off” in college. She wondered if it was a side effect of the drug.

The drug! “Omigod, Doctor, he drank it! He drank-”

“-Obviously, Cynthia,” Elsa cut her off. “How much?” she asked, no less clinically detached than ever. She barely moved since Chris locked eyes with her moments ago. The change occurred almost instantaneously: eyes dilated, breathing increased, and, obviously, sperm production. Then there was a sudden, desperate look on his face, which remained the one constant as his expression whipsawed between pain and pleasure.

“An entire jug of that shit!”

Elsa’s eyes flicked right. Ted remained in the far corner of the Lab, holding the mop handle like a make-shift weapon. He pointed quickly to the empty sample jar. Her finger remained firmly planted on the intercom button, but she returned her attention to the cum-fountaining student aide directly in front of her. He continued to hump against the glass, desperate for…

For what? Elsa’s keen mind flashed, first to the humping mice and their cum-stained fur, next to the hopeful, enthralled glances and stolen touches of the phama reps when she wore one of her sister’s fur coats to the last mixer. After arguing with her sister’s initial suggestions of conservative, “professional” furs like mink or sable, she chose a modern, “sleek” white fox stroller coat. She wasn’t going to church, after all. The very reason she wore this enormous blue fox tonight was to “up the ante” in terms of pure power fur and really “enthrall” them.

Elsa’s eyes flicked down again to the thumping, squirting dick desperately hammering the glass right over the front of her fur coat. Enthrall them, indeed.

“What do we do? We have to help him!” Cynthia’s whine interjected.

Elsa’s pretty features clouded with annoyance, then cleared with a satisfied smile. She nodded. “Yes.” The doctor remained rooted in place but began to remove the huge blue fox.

Chris’s blank, aching expression shifted behind the glass to one of uncertainty. It hardly stopped the continual flood of hard cum shooting from his flushed, hooded dick. Even now the window in front of Elsa was nearly opaque from the build-up of viscous, potent baby batter.

As Elsa removed the coat, she carefully kept it visible. Soon she held it up by the huge shawl collar, feeling the sudden chill of the air conditioning assault her from all sides. Chris remained focused like a laser on the coat. She moved a step to the right with it, and he followed, his cock now spurting jizz into a clearer section of glass. Beside her, Cynthia gasped and moved a few steps further away.

Elsa turned to Cynthia, smiling like a hungry wolf and spreading the giant blue fox out, “Put it on.”

Cynthia’s eyes and the abundant amount of black liner around them widened in shock. “Um…”

Elsa’s stern glare bored into her, “You want to help, yes? Put. It. On.”

Cynthia nodded sheepishly, holding out her arms with a shamed expression crossing her face. Chris remained safely behind the glass, locked in the lab. Elsa was the scientist here, and maybe she knew what to do after all.

The huge fur coat slid over Cynthia’s shoulders, and the sheer weight of it surprised her as it came to rest. The huge, thick cuffed sleeves were too long for her shorter arms, and her palms felt the cool surface of the liner against them as they fell inches short of the end. What had been ankle length on the tall, blonde research scientist became a train that gathered on the floor around Cynthia’s boot heels.

The huge blue fox made the short grad student look like a child wearing her mom’s coat. It seemed this caused the drug-addled Chris to thrust harder against the glass in front of her. Each wet slap caused Cynthia to flinch as even larger white spurts began building up again on the formerly clear section of glass.

“Oh, he likes you,” Elsa purred, stroking the fur collar against Cynthia’s face. “Now, get in there.”

Cynthia turned and look up at her, her pale features wreathed by the fur of the huge collar, “What? No way!”

Elsa laughed, a cruel dismissive laugh that cut right through Cynthia. “Again, you want to help. So. Help.” She punctuated the statement with two taps on the cum-stained glass. She wrapped her long nails around the small grad student’s chin and turned her gaze back to the window. “You know full well he needs to work the drug out of his system. The mice were the same. Once he’s… finished, he’ll be fine. I’m sure.”

Cynthia was not in a position to argue. Still, she tried to look away, but Elsa would not allow it. She felt flush, but she wasn’t sure it was from the sensual mass of the huge fur coat or the proximity of her beautiful, fully dominant boss. With additional distress, she realized it was a little of both.

Elsa continued with clinical certainty in her voice, “We have successfully established that… fur… is some kind of catalyst.” She kept stroking the light, soft blue fox against the girl’s cheek. “Now, we can use that knowledge return him to… normal.”

“Can’t we just… throw it in there?” Cynthia mewled, eyes locked on Chris’s eight-inch dick as another hard spurt hit the glass in front of her.

Elsa leaned down, emotion leaking into her voice once more, “Now, now, we have no idea if that will work. We know he’s reacting to the coat being worn, we have to use that.” Elsa patted the back side of the coat over Cynthia’s small rear, “Quickly. Go.”

Cynthia slowly moved towards the sealed lab door after another couple seconds of hesitation. Chris mimicked her pace, moving his thrusting, spraying cock with each step, dragging clumps of built up cock slime across the glass as he went. Elsa moved to the door panel with her key-card and waited. “Quickly. I doubt he’s a danger to you. The coat, on the other hand…” her voice trailed off. “In any case, simply let him… finish… Like a dog.”

Elsa flashed the key-card over the release and the door latch sounded. She “helpfully” pushed Cynthia through the door, who yelped. Elsa jerked the door closed with all haste, and it latched reassuringly. Her speed was hardly necessary, as the afflicted Chris made no effort to escape. As Elsa expected, he was on top of Cynthia in an instant, arms wrapped around her gloriously over-sized blue fox coat and cock buried deep in the lavish folds in back.

“Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod!” Cynthia squealed. She could feel the stabbing grind of Chris’s dick pounding against her back, just below her shoulder blades. Only his sexual frenzy was not directed at her, it was the enormous blue fox coat that occupied his complete attention.

Knowing full well no one was paying her the least bit of attention, Elsa von Neumann smiled and licked her lips. She actually was quite certain merely tossing the coat in alone would have achieved the same result. This was far more… interesting. Elsa decided the little goth dyke’s predicament was more than deserved. She’d decide on a reason later.

Beyond the glass, Chris’s expression settled into one of pure, unbridled ecstasy, interrupted only briefly by the furrowed brow of a particularly powerful thrust and creamy discharge. Elsa watched with rapt attention, her earlier “reassurance” to Cynthia ringing true with each passing moment. The dim, but wholly rational student had been reduced to little more than a rutting dog, furiously humping at the back of the blue fox with all his might.

The petite goth girl inside the coat was merely along for the ride at this point.

Chris’s spurting dong layered the back of the coat with thick, pasty spunk. The effects of Formula FCR XL increased both sperm and semen production, producing a thick, potent cum that stuck to the fur like pearly cement. His dick rammed through the deep, soft pelts, not merely building to orgasm, but shooting off with each manic thrust. Jets of jizz flew up the coat and into the back of the huge, overhanging collar as he fucked it, driven with the all-consuming need to mate with the massive blue fox fur.

Elsa observed with increasingly less clinical detachment. “Mate” seemed the wrong word. The drug-crazed student was, more aptly, raping the fur coat. This only made the wanton display more… compelling. She realized a damp sensation spread between her thighs and down her nylons, feeding a desire to slide her well-manicured finger against her clit. Instead, she clicked the intercom again, “You. Drink.”

From the corner, Ted’s expression changed from one of disgusted fascination to disbelief. He had not so much as budged, still holding onto the mop like a lifeline. “Tha fuck? Get me outta here you bitch!”

“Now, now, no way to talk to a teacher,” Elsa replied smoothly. “Drink. We have to be sure of the effects, and you’ve served your purpose as the ‘control’ in our little impromptu ‘experiment’. If the effects are the same, we can conclude it was a… rousing success.” The final phrase poured through her glossy lips like silk.

“Bullshit! I want out. Now.”

Elsa allowed the disappointed sigh to transmit through clearly. “I can assure all of you of a few things. First, there will be no usable security footage of what transpired here tonight. Second, if any of you decide not to… cooperate, my word will be considered the official record of events, and, third, it will not be kind to you.” She shifted her pose to something far more imperious.

“Or, you can play along, and become very, very rich with me.”

Ted’s face knit to a mask of frustration and then hopelessness. His grip on the mop tightened further, then he threw it away. “Goddamn!” While the position of the mop had been primarily defensive, it also served to hide the rather large bulge in his pants. Ted couldn’t help but find the live sex show, no matter how fucked up, somewhat exciting.

“No, please, no!” Cynthia moaned as Ted walked over to the Formula FCR XL storage jars. The small student in the huge fur coat buckled under the weight of Chris’s uninterrupted rutting. The back of the big coat was now little more than a sea of white cock stains, dripping and pooling in the train bunched around her feet. Still, Chris kept raping the coat, his frothing dong slathered in his own jizz, plowing through the mess and shooting more with each thrust.

Ted looked at Cynthia with an expression of regret before saying, “Sorry, but that bitch is cold.” He unzipped his pants and pulled them down, letting his plump, dark erection free before starting to chug the formula.

Elsa’s finely plucked right brow peaked when Ted’s dick appeared. She would hardly confess to trusting in stereotypes but certainly didn’t mind when they turned out to be true.

Ted didn’t finish the container. He’d chugged only about a quarter when the effects kicked in. The secure plastic container was designed not to break, and it didn’t when it hit the floor. It simply splashed a bit and rolled off under the shelf. Ted doubled over, breath fast and short. Then he reared back, rock-hard cock pointing directly at the ceiling.

All clinical detachment gone, Elsa released a moan when she saw Ted’s big black cock thicken and lengthen as it started spraying upwards. The results of those first blasts clung to the ceiling tile above him.

Ted pounced on Cynthia. More accurately, the huge blue fox fur coat in which she found herself. On her knees now, with Chris still pumping wildly against the back, Ted was offered the glorious, sweeping expanse of the coat’s wide shawl collar. The hood of his spraying cock slammed home into the deep, soft, pristine fur beside Cynthia’s right cheek. His thrusting hips crushed the collar hard into her shoulder and gushes of chunky spunk flooded in.

Chris and Ted both wore the same expression of supreme satisfaction as they brutally raped the blue fox coat. With everyone occupied, Elsa availed herself of the opportunity to slip her finger under the lacy panties she’d been prepared to drop for a suitably receptive pharma rep earlier in the evening. She found her clit in the wet folds and began to rub it.

Ted’s big black cock made short work of the collar, reducing the right side to a soggy mess of steaming, fresh spunk before switching and jamming it hard into the left. The scent of Ted’s hard, gooey nut assaulted Cynthia’s nostrils from both sides in short order. The throbbing black dick unleashed jets of jizz as fast as it could into the plush, soft blue fox fur. Soon both sides were white masses of sizzling fresh cocksnot. Ted kept fucking the ruined collar, cum rolling further and further down the front of the huge coat with each successive gush.

Elsa’s eyes rolled back as a fresh flow of girl-juice exited her tight cunt and further soaked her nylons and skirt. She gasped openly as she realized her sister certainly wouldn’t be getting this coat back. The idea the new, pristine, expensive fur coat was being fucked into oblivion before her eyes turn her on even more.

She smiled. Fuck her, and more importantly… fuck her furs. Elsa rapidly formulated a plan to get her hands on as much of her sister’s stock for “testing” ASAP. After all, there will need to be far more tests. Far more. She shuddered as another spasm sent fluids gushing down her legs.

The two drugged student aides dropped at virtually the same time. Elsa figured the smaller amount Ted imbibed must have dovetailed precisely with Chris’s earlier “start.” There was little to it. Both simply dropped to the floor with very, very satisfied smiles on their faces.

Their cum-caked dicks remained erect, though no longer doing more than a slow, steady ooze of white goo. Elsa could see the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests through the glass, indicating they were merely unconscious and not dead. The latter would have been… inconvenient.

Between their prone forms, Cynthia remained momentarily still under the weight of the cum-soaked blue fox. Elsa’s eyes narrowed, considering the girl. She may become a “problem.”

Elsa’s finger nearly came to a rest on the intercom switch when Cynthia moved. She did not take the coat off, merely unzipped her short, leather skirt and threw it across the room. She then pulled down a tiny, black thong and whipped her booted leg over Ted’s prone body. With a huff, she grabbed his erect dick at the base and thrust down, hard.

Elsa’s brow raised once more, some of her clinical instincts returned in the afterglow of her own orgasm. Was this some kind of additional side effect of the drug? In addition to everything else, increasing female libido would only knock a few extra zeros on the sale price…

Cynthia pushed the over-sized sleeve of the coat back and, with her hand exposed, started rubbing her clit quickly as she fucked against the erect, cum slathered black dick. She rocked under the jizz-soaked fur coat as her body took in more and more of the big cock, until she finally fit it all inside her slight body. Eva felt her own arousal returning at the rather impressive feat. Within a few moments, she bucked on Ted’s unconscious body, and with a cry of pleasure and a gush of clear fluid, slowly pulled herself off him.

Cynthia pulled herself up, slowly walked over to the Lab entrance, and hit the internal release. At no point did she bother removing the completely ruined, cum-covered blue fox coat as it dragged the floor behind her, leaving a trail of spent jizum in her wake. She locked eyes with Eva, who stood her ground.

“Let’s talk profit sharing.”

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