A Guy Using His Roommate's Beard Oil, Not Realizing It Wasn't A Face Lotion Till After He Applies It

A guy using his roommate's beard oil, not realizing it wasn't a face lotion till after he applies it to his face. Moments after his clean shaven face darkens with stubble growth. Making his face itch as the bristles of hair grow thicker and form into a dense beard with his mustache especially growing thicker.

The hair growth spreads from their, his body erupting with dark brown hair, while his lean and small body type expands in size to turn the young man into a thick hairy bear.

Fire in the Forest

Adam sighed deeply as he unlocked the door to his apartment. The familiar scent of old laundry and takeout boxes washed over him as the door swung open. He slid his bag off his shoulder onto the floor and slumped onto the couch. Today had been one of the worst days of his life, to put it mildly. The company he’d slaved away for since graduating a few years ago had unexpectedly let him go as part of cost cutting measures. Every late night he’d spent at the office suddenly hit him as a waste, his hard work had never mattered to those up top. Adding insult to injury was his paltry severance package; with his rent it’d barely last two weeks. He wouldn’t even have time to breathe before having to find a new job.

Before he knew it he’d passed out sitting on the couch, waking up hours later to a dark sky out the window. Shit, he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes before forcing his body up and off the couch. He tossed a frozen meal into the microwave before setting his laptop up on the table. With the microwave humming in the background he started visiting websites of companies he knew of in the same sphere. Career page after career page yielded no luck. He grabbed his food from the beeping microwave and continued to solemnly scroll through page after page of indeed listings, applying to every one he could convince himself he was qualified for. Soon enough it was two in the morning, and Adam decided to call it quits. He cleaned up his now very cold dinner and went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and clean up for bed. His red hair glowed under the ceiling light, looking almost like fire. It was one of his more attractive qualities, he thought to himself, looking at his skinny frame and ghostly skin. He flipped off the lights and hopped into bed.

It was around ten the next morning that Adam finally crawled out of bed. He grabbed his phone off the desk and quickly checked for any job notifications. There was only one, and not one he recognized. It was a recruitment email from a logging company, Cascade Lumber. He skimmed over the email, they’d “found” his profile online and thought he’d be a good fit for a lumberjack role? That was ridiculous, he thought, and closed out of his email. Frustrated at no actual leads, he decided to take a walk for the morning and get back to searching that afternoon. While out trying to enjoy the rare sunny day, that email stuck in his mind. Really? A lumberjack? It was absurd, insulting almost. He was a software developer, not some country laborer. He got back to his apartment and threw himself back into the search, sending out applications one after another. The next day was much of the same, desperately trying to find more niche positions that might be hiring. Still no responses, though. Each day he became a little more stressed, a little more frantic in his search. How had no one responded yet? He had plenty of qualifications and experience, he didn’t understand the problem.

Two weeks had passed and Adam was against a wall. His severance cash was nearly dried up, and still nothing had come through, not even an interview. Even his connections had fallen through. With the bills starting to pile up on the counter, he was out of options. That was when he remembered the email from weeks before. At this point it couldn’t hurt to respond, maybe they had a tech position he could weasel into. He wrote a short response and sent it off. Just minutes later, as Adam was in the middle of making lunch, his phone buzzed. They’d responded already, inviting him out to their office. The address was nearly an hour out west, but what choice did he have?

The next morning he was on his way out of the city, high rises giving way to fields and then forest. Dense groves alternated with barren patches of recently logged areas, letting sunlight down to the road. He pulled down a narrow road and a few minutes later parked in front of a modest building tucked into the trees. His car was surrounded by huge trucks filled to the brim with tree trunks, as well as some large machinery he couldn’t identify. Upon walking inside he was greeted with a dim room full of old logging gear. He heard the footsteps of someone large approaching, before a huge man descended the stairs to greet him. He looked enormous in this small room, almost scraping the ceiling, and his frame was equally wide. His open shirt revealed a forest of hair on his chest, and his beard was incredibly thick. Adam suddenly felt very intimidated, despite the large smile on the man’s face.

“Hey there! You must be Adam, so glad you took us up on visiting. We really think you’d be a great asset on the team. Whoa! I’m getting ahead of myself, the name’s Derek,” he reached out his absolute paw of a hand. With a shake Derek immediately began touring Adam around the office. Derek was overwhelming with his enthusiasm, but also in his assumption that Adam had agreed to start working there. He didn’t have another option, but they didn’t know that. They got into Derek’s truck and he drove off into the forest towards a work site. The majority of the information Derek was spitting out went in one ear and out the other, but Adam tried to look as engaged as he could. The truck came to a screeching halt in an area they were currently clearing. The sound of chainsaws was like nails on a chalkboard to Adam as they stepped out of the truck. In the distance he saw machinery whirring away cutting trees, as well as men harnessed up with saws. Derek went into more detail about working in an active logging site, the dangers and safety measures. Adam was instead busy looking at the men working nearby. They had on hard hats and bright orange vests overtop thick jackets or flannels. They all looked big and burly, like they’d been lifting for years. Adam wasn’t sure how in Derek’s mind he would be able to do anything here.

“...and I think that just about covers most of it. Oh! And the salary is $55k per year, with annual raises and benefits. We try to do right by our guys here,” Derek smiled at Adam. That number had finally gotten his attention. Nothing close to his old job, but better than zero. In a decision that probably warranted some more thought, Adam opened his mouth.

“Great, when do I start?”

Derek’s smile doubled in size and he slapped Adam on the back. “That’s my man, let’s get you all set up then while you’re out here,” he said. They both got back into Derek’s truck and drove back to the office. Inside Adam was handed the same hat and vest he saw the men at the site wearing.

“Now that’s just the basics, you’ll probably want some heavy clothing while on the job, and get yourself some good boots while you’re at it,” he chuckled, looking down at Adam’s aging vans shoes. Adam thanked him and walked back to his car. Still unsure of this whole venture, Adam departed. On the way back he stopped at some workwear stores, looking for boots and clothes to fit the job. Having no idea what he actually needed, he just looked for the closest things to what he remembered the guys there wearing. Close enough, right?

Back at his apartment he cautiously tried on all the clothing he’d just gotten. To his surprise, it all fit fairly well, despite his body being much smaller than most of the guys out there. His thin frame looked bulkier under a thick layer of protective and warm clothing. He almost… liked how it looked? Adam quickly put that thought out of his head and stripped off the gear. The sun was already dipping below the horizon and he had to be out there early in the morning from now on. 

The alarm came even sooner than he thought. Adam rolled out of bed at four in the morning, and was out the door as soon as he could get himself together. The air was chilly outside, with not even a hint of the sunrise yet in the darkness. He drove straight to the site Derek had assigned him to, finding a group of men chatting together while donning their equipment. Adam introduced himself, and began putting on his own assigned gear. The day flew by as several other guys instructed Adam on how things worked. He was more keen to pay attention to everything this time, listening intently to each burly man who showed him how to use a chainsaw. By the end of the day he’d felled a few trees and learned the basics of the larger machinery the team used. Despite it being cool all day, Adam was sweating up a storm in his thick coat. Maybe he’d overestimated how much layering was needed. The drive home felt shorter than it had the day before, but Adam was frustrated at a recurring itch on his jaw, it just kept coming back no matter how much he scratched at it.

The next few days were much of the same, Adam’s time was highly supervised while he was learning, but he was surprised at how easily he took to it. His original plan of finding a tech position to switch to had already been forgotten. The other lumberjacks seemed to like Adam as well, despite his scrawny stature. His red hair made him easy to point out, even though it was usually covered by a hard hat. The itch on his face reared its head a few more times, as Adam’s baby smooth face was slowly overtaken by a light red stubble. Each day it would poke out just a hair more, reaching out from his chin towards his sideburns. Adam failed to notice this, just as he was blind to the muscle his skinny body had started to put on. In just a week he’d gained serious definition, he had slight pecs and shoulders, and his arms looked like he’d been working out for years. Must be the intensity of the job, he thought to himself when one of his old t-shirts no longer fit. As the days passed, his stubble connected across his face, and some wispy hairs poked out of his growing pecs. Barely noticeable, but there nonetheless.

The weeks continued to pass as Adam got settled into his position. He started to feel like a real lumberjack as trees fell by his hand day by day. He began to fit in more with the other men as well. His bright red stubble thickened. Hairs that were barely more than peach fuzz grew thick and pushed out into a true short beard. The wisps on his chest likewise grew thicker, curlier, as more pressed out of his pecs. The red hairs grew and wove together until the hairy coating could no longer be ignored. His chest hair was normally kept beneath multiple layers, until one of his fellow loggers spotted the rug while he was changing. The crew gave him their old flannels and forced him to wear them and let some of the fiery red hair poke out. They all loved it, he was looking like them with their thick beards and hairy chests. The tiny new hire was quickly vanishing beneath muscle and fur, as the hairs on his chest spread downwards over his tight stomach.

Adam began noticing that each day he would leave work absolutely soaked in sweat. His layers just absorbed it leaving him a sopping mess as the job was so labor intensive. It didn’t bother him, he just bought more work clothes to cycle through, but he was oblivious to the other effects it was having. Adam’s body, steeping in sweat all day, was producing more and more. Not only that, his previously bare pits began sprouting fine red hairs. At first it was just a few thin hairs poking out, but as they were soaked in sweat they grew thicker. More hairs popped out of the damp pit, filling in rapidly. His once smooth pits were growing into a dense jungle of hair, the hairs thick and red, tangling together into a tuft that trapped even more sweat and stench. They spread out of the confines of his pit, connecting with the pelt on his chest and beginning to pop out across his upper arms. He would dig his fingers into his furry pits to scratch, the hair growing in itching like mad. Each day more hairs pushed out, more sweat was trapped, and the more he smelled like the other men around him.

As the weeks rolled on, Adam kept having to buy new clothes between sweat stains and simply outgrowing them. His body had put on a lot of size since starting, his thin frame bulking out as he grew taller and wider. The weather was growing colder, and the added layers were hiding his growing size, as well as his growing fur. The hair from his pits was continuing its march, with wiry hair cropping up across his shoulders, triceps, and was especially dense on his forearms. Red wispy hairs sprouted all over his upper body, filling in gaps and growing into a thick ginger rug. His body was growing at a rapid rate, biceps filling out and pecs becoming real pillows, but it wasn’t all muscle. His size was softened by a healthy layer of fat that only encouraged more hair to sprout. His already dense chest hair thickened further, red hairs swirling around his nipples and growing longer and curlier. The chest fur grew up and over his shoulders, creating a seamless carpet from his hands through his torso. Even his back was beginning to show signs, as light red fuzz was gathering around his shoulder blades and above his waistline. Hair sprouted out of his shirt collars and poked from his sleeves; even under his layers of clothes his coworkers knew Adam was hiding some impressive fur.

What they couldn’t see was below Adam’s waistline. The fur coat from his stomach slowly inched downwards, the wispy hairs occupying his groin quickly overrun with a thick red bush. The hairs pushed out from the base of his cock, thick and curly they sprouted and tangled together as the bush expanded. The hairs climbed up and connected with the rug on his stomach, and out to his thighs before racing down his thick legs. His pubes grew denser into a thick triangle of red hair, his cock growing larger to not be hidden beneath the jungle. Adam hardly noticed as the bulge in his jeans grew day by day, sweat soaking the area as it developed a thick musk that was barely contained by his underwear. He had to buy larger sizes after his balls swelled considerably, dropping lower than before and sprouting with their own rug of red hair. The hairs spread down over his taint before blossoming in his ass crack, a thick fiery explosion of fur pushing out as the hairs grew like weeds over his large cheeks. His legs grew stockier to support his growing body as the hairs continued their march from the thick nest of pubes. His thighs were coated before it spread to his calves. His feet stretched and ached as they grew multiple sizes in just a few weeks, before too being buried beneath a thick mat of red hair.

Winter finally began showing its ugly face, and Adam’s job grew rougher daily as temperatures plummeted up in the mountains. His body adapted, packing on considerable bulk. Gone was his thin, twinky frame, replaced now by a thick and strong body, built for strength and warmth. His thick muscular frame was coated in a layer of fat to insulate him, and his belly seemed to just keep growing. The fur coat he’d been developing only continued to come in. The red hairs grew thicker and denser every day, pushing against his clothing. His fiery red beard, which had been well kept until now began erupting from his face with a fury. Thick hairs curled over his upper lip as the hairs on his cheeks pushed out inch after inch. More hairs filled in between as the coating crawled higher on his cheeks. It surged down his neck and blended with the thick chest hair. He looked wild, but it kept his face warm from the frigid winds. He even got complimented on it, earning a reputation as a real mountain man from his fellow lumberjacks. Adam had fully adapted to his job, there was no going back. He was now a hairy, hefty lumberjack with a fur coat to rival an animal’s. He’d grown to be one of the best in the crew, each tree felled returning as a hair in his pelt.

Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes

Been holding out on some kinda Video Game trigger, here's a bit of an odd Russian cultural/racial TF, enjoy! -Occam

Michael could stand to be a more pleasant person. Day to day he is a pretty run of the mill head-down kinda guy, amicable but never really goes out his way to chat or make friends. Instead he finds his free time often used to prowl the internet looking for people to torment online in whatever way he finds funny at the moment. Born too late to be a goon on SomethingAwful he typically pages through Reddit threads and communities looking for someone sensitive or cartoonishly argumentative.

This is precisely where he finds himself tonight, being a pedant on some video game thread that he doesn’t truly care about. Some presumably Russian user, u/ZandrIvnov, seems to be quite proud of Tetris which Michael finds incredibly amusing. As an American he too takes pride in many of the cultural exports and ideas that his nation has sent into the world, including many of the deeply entrenched ideas about the Russian and Soviet people taught in world history. It takes especially little for him to decide to start taunting and baiting this man sitting at his keyboard a world away.

Michael launches petty taunts at the Russian, poking fun at his nationality and Eastern Europe at large, stopping short at making fun of the man’s less than perfect English, for now at least. Michael switches between accounts to upvote his responses and even add additional dunks on the Tetris-fan as needed. Try as he might though to get the conversation away from the ancient game and get some more personal and profane digs in there he finds it difficult to find any truly satisfying or clever insults.

Getting tired of hearing this man assert Russian superiority he prepares to pull the ripcord and move on before he sees the Russian misstep talking about the game he’s so invested in, as probably the only fun fact he has on deck comes to mind. After the Russian so eloquently compares Michael’s head to a Tetris piece Michael immediately replies, “okay lol big fan huh they’re actually called tetrominoes” and then moves on to find some other doofus to bully on the internet.

On the other side of the screen Sasha seethes at the man, so juvenile in his mockery “Проклятые американцы. (Fucking Americans.)” He takes to his own keyboard messaging Michael directly as his arrogant messages dry up in the thread proper, Sasha was going to have him put his money where his mouth was. He offers a challenge, “u americans are so proud da? how about we see whos country rly is the best”

Michael felt his pulse rise in excitement at how much he has truly bothered this man. Smug smile on his face as he types his response, “what did u have in mind, Zander?”

“Саша(Sasha) is my name. since u are so smart about tetris, why not see who is actual master of game da?” Sasha offers, knowing already that the troll is sure to accept out of pride alone. Michael wasn’t all that much of a gamer but surely he could show this dweeb what’s what yeah? He starts looking up tips to win Tetris as he replies “sure whatever dude, what are u thinkin”

Sasha smirks as he has Michael right where he wants him, “loser agrees with winner about national superiority? should not be problem if you americans are so good at every thing” Michael was already eager to give it a go and Sasha’s taunt only makes him all the more raring to go. Before he can even pause his meager attempt to study strategy, Sasha sends over a link to the game and Michael clicks over to play, leaving the cheat sheet open on a second monitor. 

Michael types his name into the game and finds himself looking at a familiar screen. He’s never played the game competitively but it’s a pretty simple game right? He just needs to keep his cool once the pieces start flying in. He gets the cheeky idea to check the cheat sheet in between pieces. That’s that good-old red white and blue ingenuity, Michael thinks. Unaware that these are of course also of the Russian flag. There’s a ping from the board as Sasha uses the in game chat to ask “u understand the rules da”

Michael sends back a thumbs up and Sasha sets the game going. It is predictably uneventful at the beginning, neither man making any particularly interesting plays. Michael continues to skim how to best cheat the game while Sasha waits for the perfect moment to fuck him over. Michael finds himself enjoying the game more than he thought he would as he hears the familiar tune, it is awfully catchy isn’t it? He’s gotta hand it to the soviets for that. His gameplay slows down as he tries to speedread the page on his other monitor. Instead of forcing pieces quickly he instead lets them drift slowly while his board is relatively clear. Sasha sees this and decides to go in for the kill.

Suddenly as Michael’s eyes wander away from the game for just a second too long there is an unfamiliar sound. He darts his attention back only to see the floor of his Tetris board rocket up in response to Sasha doing an impossibly well timed combo of lines. Michael’s heartbeat increases at a shocking rate in response as losing becomes a very real possibility. Why is he so upset? His face grows red as he realizes just how outclassed he is. Obviously this is no big deal right? Just a game. But Michael cannot help but feel physically uncomfortable as the tides start to turn so swiftly. 

There is suddenly a crick in his neck that he stretches to avail but only exacerbates as a soreness begins to spread further across his body. Man is he tensing up too much? It’s just, it’s just a game right? Trying to calm down he is hit with the thought as if it were a shot of adrenaline that he absolutely cannot lose this game. His eyebrows furrow as they begin to square and thicken, casting dark shadows over his rage-filled eyes. His limbs take turns cramping as he clenches his neck and jaw to distract from the pane, not noticing as the structure of his face begins to change. 

His chest grows to join the chorus of muscle spasms as Michael struggles to keep up with even Sasha’s slower gameplay. Across the seas Sasha takes his time, knowing victory is in the bag, and savoring what he knows must be happening to his little troll Michael right now. He smirks as he imagines the discomfort in Michael’s changing body as he feels warmth grow in his own chest, and crotch, as he decides just how much he wants to play with his food. 

Back in the states Michael finds the heat, the sweat, the tightness of his clothes increasingly unbearable. As he continues to mash buttons on his remote he is too intent on the game to notice as hair begins to darken around his forearms and begin to snake its way towards his hands. He rubs them each down to placate the tickle on his growing arms. This is absolutely nothing to the creeping itch that is starting to encompass the entirety of his rapidly expansive legs. He shifts his heavier thighs trying to soothe the discomfort, making a loud sound as they pull away from the sweat sticking them to the chair but not allaying the soreness or itch in the slightest.

He grunts and notices not how his voice has grown both deeper and gruffer in his throat. Michael struggles to keep the remote from slipping out of his hands as sweat trickles down from his hairy arms and into his palms. Before it becomes a problem however Michael takes advantage of the lull in Sasha’s gameplay and tries to quickly remove his far too strained shirt. It should be a simple task after all, just put the remote down for a second, slide it off, and then back to the game. He does a brief check in to ensure he has even that and after believing he does Michael starts to try and remove the shirt strained and sticking to his skin.

He has precious little time as the pieces continue to fall at their set pace in game. He gets one hand under the hem of his shirt and tries to wrench it while keeping his other hand on the controller, this lets in a breeze of cold air sending quivers of pleasure across his pulsating muscle, as well as igniting a burning ache in his chest and torso. His upper body grows even further, finally overfilling his shirt as the sound of tears ring out in his bedroom alongside the same repetitive folk song he knows well. The idea that this shirt was loose fitting when he threw it on this morning or that he just identified the Tetris theme as a folk song rather than an 8-bit annoyance don’t have a chance to come to mind as he struggles to remain focused on not losing the game.

He pulls the shirt up to his chest before it gets uncomfortably stuck “Ach, bog uh- god damnit.” He scratches at his chest as the soreness and growing muscle makes way for a fiery prickling as the few chest hairs he has been a tad ashamed of begin to thicken and darken on his chest. Swirling out from his nipples and inching higher on his chest with each breath, he continues to struggle to remove himself mindlessly. Finding his shirt caught on his expansive pecs he rubs his hand underneath it across his sweaty chest, and finding it pleasurably drag through more hair on his pecs than he would’ve sworn he had in his pubes, he resolves to remove the shirt however he can. 

As soon as he finishes a line Michael tosses the remote down and goes to raise his shirt above his head, his thicker arms struggling as they adjust to their new range of motion. He wrests the tight shirt above his head, his chest bursting large once more, freed from the garment as the breeze tickles the sweat covered chest hair and forces his enlarged nipples to harden. Having overcome his suddenly massive pecs the neckline is now caught on his chin, his arms raised high above his head expose his pits to the cold open air. He feels the air con blow against his recently shaved pits as the hair begins to grow back. It starts to catch as the hair begins to grow thicker and longer than it had ever done before, curling together as new hairs begin to push out and form a bush thick enough to never see the skin beneath again.

This also brings his attention to new development in his body, with his face shoved into his shirt it would be impossible not to notice the unbecoming amount of sweat soaking it. Arms raised though he finally notices that he has an altogether far more powerful scent, on par with a macro-obsessed body builder or hygiene-phobic wild man. Michael feels a beard start to push out into the shirt still hugging his face. Shaving once a month was more than enough to keep him clean shaven but now he knew deep in his mind that he would never have a day again where his face would be smooth. It’s that Ru- That American blood in him, right?

He begins to feel himself lost in the scent as his mind begins to grow distracted, attention fading from the game despite the looping tune filling his mind. He turns his head to smell his pits through his shirt which is when he hears the dreaded sound of Sasha making a combo once more, “Gah! Nyo, I can’t lose” he shouts, not noticing as his rough tone begins to develop a slight accent. Ending the long-standing struggle against his shirt he simply rips it off and jumps for the controller, ashamed at how foolish and lustful he has suddenly found himself in the middle of this all-important competition.

He needs to make his people proud! He cannot let Amerika down, ya? His focus and vision return to the game as he stumbles through one more line before all the pieces fall from view and the game declares Sasha the winner. Mikael reflexively pounds his table shouting, “Ny- no! I, this!” struggling to find any words to make his loss okay. Unable to notice just how bizarre this game has affected him, though sure that something grave has occurred. He scrambles to the chat box where he sees Sasha has yet again beaten him to the punch, “gg Брат(brother) yes?”

Mikael’s eyes don’t even notice the language switch in the message as he quickly races to demand a rematch. Punching keys slower than the career-cyberbully is accustomed to, almost as if he would be more comfortable with a different keyboard format, slowly he punches his response “one more best dva out of tri ya?” Sasha laughs out loud seeing Mikael suddenly typing out anglicized Russian. He smirks and squeezes his crotch in excitement at just how far this American brat has fallen into his hands. Sasha responds in full Russian knowing that Mikael may as well already be his countryman. “конечно, почему бы и нет, брат (sure why not, brother)”

Mikael smiles as he prepares for yet another go against Sasha, he’s eager to learn from his, uh? Suddenly he can’t quite remember how he knows Sasha exactly as his memories of his persistent pathetic history of being a troll begins to fade from his mind. As the Tetris theme starts once more with the game Mikael finds himself singing along as the words to the folk song it is based on, blushing at the vulgarity therein.

The race is on once more and though he was sure this was a competition against his friend, no, his брат(brother), Sasha, He can’t help but feel a giddiness as the game progresses. He feels a warmth in his chest just from playing a game of his childhood, of his country? No he’s a born and bred statesman da? He’s from, uh Moscow is a city in one of the states too da? Though he finds himself distracted his body continues to expertly control the game subconsciously.

He blushes as he struggles to remember where he grew up, it was a smaller town for sure. Somewhere very far North for sure, after all why else would he grow so hairy! He launches into a hearty laugh as body hair continues to push out from every pore in his body, sure to be peaking out from every shirt collar on both sides. He scratches at his pubes as it becomes clear that even besides his massive package there will evermore be a bulge in his pants from this unkept jungle as well. 

His eyes continue to follow the pieces up and down as they slowly begin to lighten and bleach themselves an icy blue. The itchiness that has made itself at home through the whole of its body is replaced with a burning pleasure as he thinks oh his home. Full days where there is only sun, long treks into the city to visit St. Basil’s, helping his mother fry pirozhki. The hair atop his head bleaches itself a sandy blonde while still thickening and pulling itself short as a lightbulb goes off in his head his voice rumbles in his chest as he reflexively speaks in what must be his mother tongue, “Конечно! я спрошу у Саши (Of course! I’ll just ask Sasha).” 

He goes to pause the game as he now knows he can do and types to Sasha in chat, “hey брат, wher am i от again?” Sasha smirks at just how easy this was stopping short from fully masturbating as he thinks of his new massive countryman living a world away as he replies, “недалеко от Москвы, Миша (just outside of Moscow, Misha).”

Misha’s eyes glaze over as he reads this, the room around him changes, American flags familiar patterns shift into the Russian tricolor. Any writing within the room shifts from English to the cyrillic alphabet and Misha sits there with a smile as he recalls his home. Long winters working alongside his best friend Sasha. His neck thickens and his waist expands as he thinks of long nights drinking alongside his friends to abate the cold. The game of Tetris continues on and he again feels a warmth in his chest at the chance to play with his dearest Друг(friend) Sasha.

For the life of him he can’t quite remember why he has moved to Америки though he is sure that Sasha will know. Sasha always knows the right thing to do. One thing is for sure though, he is going to do his Motherland proud.

Request: Could you beef this man up into a total muscle daddy?

Caleb couldn’t help but scrunch up his face in disgust when he overheard the gay couple cooing sugary things to one another. The football-playing stud didn’t have a problem with gay guys whatsoever, but he found it disgusting when the thinner one referred to the other as “Daddy”.

“Disgusting,” he muttered under his breath as he walked into the bathroom, unaware of the mischievous glares from the gay couple.

Caleb sauntered into the bathroom and did his business. As he was washing his hands, he looked up into the mirror and couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride that blossomed in his chest at the serious gains he’d made. He straightened up and snapped a picture to post onto his Instagram, making sure to flex a large bicep.

He posted the picture and before he knew what he was doing, tagged it with #Daddy.

“What the hell?” he grunted as he posted the picture, unsure why he’d just done that. He deleted the picture and snapped another one, this one with him making sure to puff out his chest a little bit to show off his chiseled pecs.

When he posted it, this time as if his thumbs were possessed, he tagged it with #MuscleDaddy and #DaddyAF.

“What the fuck is going on?” Caleb roared as he tried to edit the tags, but his thumbs would not cooperate. In a frustrated huff, he tossed his phone down onto the counter of the bathroom sink and splashed some water on his face. However, his stomach dropped when he felt something completely wrong.

In a flash, Caleb rubbed the water away from his eyes and stared into the mirror, his jaw dropping as he watched dark stubble grow at a rapid rate along his previously smooth jaw. He was in shock and awe as he watched the dark hair take over, but his focus soon shifted when his chest started to itch. He absentmindedly scratched at it, wincing when he saw tuffs of chest hair starting to sprout and curl over the collar of his shirt.

“Holy shit!” he boomed in a deeper sounding voice when he witnessed his muscles starting to inflate. His biceps bulged even further underneath a dense forest of hair and the seams on his jeans struggled to contain his widening thighs and ass that bubbled out even more. The front of his jeans bulged outwards as he felt his cock lengthen and start to plump up. In his panicked state of mind, Caleb struggled to unzip the tightening pants, unleashing the now ten inch cock that was almost as thick as a beer can.

He was speechless as his body continued to change, but the worst had yet to come.

“No!” Caleb cried when he saw his gut starting to push outwards. The stud had prided himself on his chiseled abs which he’d always shown off online. However, his gut continued to inflate and round out in front of him. His tight t-shirt sprung upwards and rested on top of the protruding hairy tummy, unable to shield it from view. Caleb poked at it, a little relieved that it seemed to be solid, more akin to a roidgut than just fat. Even his pecs puffed out and inflated so much that they rested on his new gut, his nipples enlarging to poke conspicuously against the straining fabric of his shirt.

RIIPPPP!

Caleb’s broadening, hairy back tore the t-shirt to shreds, and the shocked inflated stud was forced to stare at his beefy new body. His hairy gut protruded out in front of him and his pecs and nipples were so large that no shirt would ever be able to conceal them.

He whimpered when he saw crow’s feet starting to form near his eyes, and a few of the hairs on his new beard turned gray, illustrating the many years that the stud had just had sucked away.

“Wh-what the fuck happened to me?” Caleb bellowed in his deeper voice as he examined his beefy, older body. Unwanted, hairy bulk kept rubbing up against itself as he moved, and the hunk couldn’t see anything but inflated pecs and his large musclegut whenever he glanced downwards. His large thighs rolled around each other as he tried to walk, his gait resembling something like a waddle.

The bathroom door opened up and the thin gay guy from earlier walked in, running his eyes up and down Caleb’s inflated form.

“Well hey there, Daddy,” he teased, giving Caleb a knowing wink.

At the name, Caleb’s giant cock twitched to life, and the new bear blushed as his ten inches stood out in front of him. He was only able to know this by looking in the mirror since his gut blocked its view from above. “Wh-what did you call me?” Caleb stuttered, his heart racing in his inflated chest as his eyes ran up and down the younger man’s form.

The guy giggled and walked up to the beefy muscle daddy, running an admiring hand up and down the protruding gut that was evidently sensitive too. “I called you, ‘Daddy’,” he whispered.

Celeb shuddered as the smaller guy’s fingers ran through his thick chest hair, and his cock twitched with want as a small bead of precum started to leak out.

“Let’s head to my place and I’ll take care of that for you, Daddy.”

The other guy managed to tuck Caleb’s monster cock back into his pants and zipped up the front. Caleb looked back at his reflection and winced as it looked as if he were smuggling a cucumber in his pocket. He was too shocked to say anything and was so focused on the way his beefy chest fluttered when the guy took him by the hand and led him out of the bathroom.

When he finally snapped back to his senses, Caleb blushed furiously as he realized that he was walking (or waddling) hand-in-hand with a much younger looking and thinner guy. Worse was that his new inflated form was on full display to the other people who were walking around, all of them getting a full view of his musclegut and pillow-like pecs that were capped off with nubby nipples. He knew that something horrible had happened to him, that he was supposed to be the 21 year old straight jock who had a muscular and toned body. He wasn’t supposed to be some older musclebear who showed off his thick, hairy chest everywhere he went because no shirt could ever fit over it.

But he couldn’t deny how turned on he was by the immense weight of his gut and pecs pulling on his front, and by the way his bulky arms rested on his flaring lats. And even the wind blowing across his dense chest hair sent a shock of pleasure through him, making his thick cock throb and a large wet mark appear on the front of his jeans.

“Doing okay, Daddy?” his younger companion asked, patting his musclegut reassuringly.

Caleb shuddered again and wrapped a large arm around the other man’s thin shoulders, feeling a protective contentment as the man’s smaller body was pressed against his hairy bulk.

“Daddy’s doin’ just fine, Baby,” Caleb playfully growled.

Gacha Bro

Jk here's an actual video game TF haha! Bit of a trade with @artificial-transmutations ! Hope you enjoy this spin on a barbarian TF! -Occam

Erik wouldn’t label himself a gamer really, sure he threw on a stream every so often and tried to at least keep abreast of what’s popular, but he just never really found a game to care all that much about. He is fairly confident that the game his friend Jack just sent him Achillean Dreams was sure to be another in a laundry list of mediocre games he’s had a go at. It looks like a standard Gacha game which he’s never really cared for, they’re quite pay-to-win and predatory. Though he supposes that a few of his friends quite enjoy Genshin Impact? Maybe it’ll be a little fun?

Jack says he needs Erik to download the app and start playing so he can get a free pull, and after grumbling that this is precisely why he hates gacha games he downloads the app from Jack’s link and starts at it. He’s greeted with a grandiose generic animation sweeping through some fantastical setting before being deposited at his first draw. Rolling his eyes that this is just a lottery app he clicks and watches as he grows slightly curious to what, or who rather, he would pull. The screen flashes a few times before light bursts from the screen before he hears a burly voice shout “Graugh! Let’s Go!”  as a barbarian burst onto his screen swinging an axe. It zooms into his face through a mist of sweat to land on his rage filled eyes and a barbaric smirk as text reads Congratulations! You Pulled Enki the Barbarian! The screen changes once more, this time showing Enki’s model just standing and posing with his axe, flexing at the camera as if to challenge the player. Erik blushes before grimacing.

On the rare occasion he does decide to game he would never choose to play any kind of melee fighter type guy.  He taps through the menus to get to the gameplay so he can get this over with. Jack didn’t say exactly how much he needs to play but Erik is sure it’ll be clear. He starts maneuvering Enki through the world of the game, finding the controls incredibly intuitive as he finishes the tutorial and levels up. Doing so gives him a slight high, just enough of a rush to keep going. Might as well play a little longer considering he’s sure to never pick this game back up once he puts it down.

Entering the true starting area he goes around killing slimes and large spiders to get some experience points and level up. Each time he does so he finds himself growing more and more invested in the game, he can see why people like this after all, with each kill of some weak monster his warrior only grows more powerful which in turn helps him level up faster. He looks hungrily at his muscular character as he hears the chime of another level up and sees what new aspects and skills he has new access to.

In no time at all Enki is already level five and Erik uncharacteristically pumps the air in excitement before he shakes his head in shock at himself. He blushes as he sees Enki’s figure stretch in impatience on the level up screen. Man though, no wonder Jack wanted another pull in this game, it’s already quite addictive. He then hears his stomach grumble and is taken aback. He just ate didn’t he? He looks to the clock to confirm as the hunger overtakes him regardless of when his last meal was. He gets up to go grab food and finds himself shockingly sore. Jesus he needs to exercise more, or is he dehydrated? Just like Enki he stretches as he begins to make his way over to make a sandwich. 

He feels tensions familiar and new as he feels the pleasure in stretching his body to its limits. The hem of his shirt sits just a bit higher on him, exposing his thin waist and small treasure trail as his stomach grumbles once more. Alright already, he thinks as he throws together a meal and starts playing the game once more, just walking around and seeing what all the game has to offer. On the horizon he sees villages and castles that pique his interest as he struggles within his mind not to get too invested, he doesn’t want to throw money at this game.

Beginning his mindless grind for XP once more as he levels up his soreness starts to arise once more as he grumbles and adjusts his position. The couch creaks as his weight ever so slightly begins to increase, before once more his stomach demands his attention. “Jesus Christ! Why am I so hungry!?” He finds his blood starts to race as the irritation starts to rise. Perhaps he should give the game a rest. Deciding against having another meal he opts for junk and grabs a pint of ice cream. He’ll just hit the gym tomorrow.

Picking up a book he is taken aback as he realizes that thought just pushed itself into his mind. He has no gym membership, he’s never had one? He must have meant he’ll go for an, uh, hike or something? To distract his mind from that oddity he turns to start his book, quickly finishing his pint of ice cream as he struggles to sink his teeth into this book he thought he liked? He was quite invested last time he picked it up but at the moment he finds himself picking up and checking his phone an inordinate amount. His mind keeps thinking back to Enki’s muscular body as he impatiently taps his foot. He can’t seem to sit comfortably on the couch, be it the soreness or a rising anxiety in his body at sitting and reading this boring book. Ah, this book he quite liked, rather. He groans in irritation, and closes his eyes as he tries to work out what is going on with him.

Soon enough though, distraction arrives as Jack calls. “Dude you’ve gotta play more to get me my pull.” Erik opens his mouth to answer before noticing Jack sounds off, he asks, “Do you have a cold?”

He scoffs, “Erik, c’mon bro you just gotta get to level ten so we can both get good!” Erik again pauses as he listens closer to the other line, Jack is clearly amped about something more than this stupid little game, he then hears a familiar slapping sound and a deep grunt come from his friend and he calls out, “Jack dude! What? Are you mast-” Jack quickly interrupts him, “Chill bro of course not! Just, just uh. Here watch this level up thing and you’ll do it super fast, trust.”

The line goes dark as Jack apparently hangs up before sending a link to an ad for Erik to watch. Refusing to engage with the fact he was pretty sure his friend was masturbating just now he plays the ad and is shocked to find out it's for a partnership with a local gym!? His head sears with pain as he struggles to think of how weird this paired with him thinking about the gym earlier, but he is unable to make that leap as his eyes drink in muscular men pumping iron at the gym. It ends with a message saying players get a month trial. “God that’s bizarre.” 

He grimaces once more as he changes into pajamas and jumps into bed before taking advantage of his level up boost. He starts completing missions and defeating mobs as he approaches level ten at a rapid pace. He doesn't notice as his pajamas catch weird on his body as he lies there, his feet suddenly sticking out from beyond the blankets as he flexes his toes, not feeling as they surge a bit larger. As soon as he hits the milestone he lets out something between a yawn and a groan as he stretches, not noticing as he echoes deeper than he has ever sounded before. He finds no comfort in rest as he quickly drifts to sleep, his body tossing and turning in bed as he accidentally leaves his phone on, leaving Enki to accrue passive experience as continues to level up well into the night.

The root of Erik’s soreness makes itself apparent as he shifts in his bed, muscle starting to make itself known through his increasingly tight pajamas. He sweats completely through his clothes and leaves a deep pile of drool on his pillow as, unaware to him, he starts getting hard in his sleep as his cock grows larger than he has ever seen it before, his balls growing larger and hanging lower as he dreams of open fields and intense fights.

After no time at all however he wakes up with a start rocketing sweat into the room and tearing his pajama top. He is absolutely raring with energy that he needs to make use of. Before that though he sees a notification on his phone. Oh yeah, he didn’t use his pull did he. He smirks as he wonders what kind of hero he is to get next as he clicks through to roll hsi new character. As the light glimmers once more he hears a familiar grunt though as Enki once more dervishes with an ax through villains.

There is a slight disappointment in him as he sees he has somehow gotten this standard barbarian once more. Though seeing his stats improve as he now apparently has two starts sets him right as rain. His pulse races with excitement as he imagines how much better he will be. He quickly jumps out of bed, not noticing his pajama pants now rest at his mid-calf, and throws on some clothes to race to the gym to get his apparent free membership.

He neglects to take an uber or a bus however as he instead just starts to jog to the gym, not pulling up directions either as he somehow is able to intuit his way. In a lingering act of curiosity at what other heroes he could have pulled he clicks through the mages and thieves and smirks as he is suddenly glad he didn’t get such weak looking characters. He feels his shoes tighten as his feet surge larger once more carrying him to his destination. Besides denigrating the classes he usually enjoys playing he finds his eyes also catch on one named “Sir Gilgar” some kinda kingly paladin type who is apparently close with Enki. He tilts his head with interest at this man as he arrives at the gym.

Standing still he suddenly notices that he forgot to put on deodorant at home. He sniffs at his pits wondering how much of an issue it is to be, he definitely smells worse than usual, though it’s definitely not worth the trip back home. He is called over by the man at the front desk who bears an odd resemblance to the bear of a blacksmith from the game. “Yo bro! You play A.D.?” Erik nods his head as the receptionist continues, “Enki yeah?” Erik stumbles back in confusion, “Uh Erik actually?” to which the man just laughs “hah, oh yeah that’s what I meant. You’re friend told me you might be in.”

There is then an arm around Erik's shoulder, though heavier and higher than any of his friends could possibly have. Before he can turn to see however he notices that his less than pleasant musk is immediately overshadowed by the stink coming from this pit right next to his face, and finds himself taken aback once more as he is jealous, at the stink, whispering “what the fuck?” as he turns to this mammoth of a man. 

The man before him is, familiar? He squints his eyes as he sees the chiseled chin and long wavy hair. Ah that’s why, he looks just like that paladin Erik just saw in game doesn’t he what was his name? “Gilgar?”

The man smiles and laughs heartily, a deep rumble that makes Erik blush as he looks down and pats him on the back. “Huhuh no bro,it’s me Jack! Thanks for downloadin’ the game dude it’s really helped me get uh, bigger? Yeah, huhuh! I was playin’ it all night.” Erik continues to stare the man up and down, struggling to find anything to reconcile that this is his friend Jack. As he does so though his memories quickly change as he hungrily stares at his defined chest and weighty biceps, this is actually what Sir Jack’s always looked like though? He then shakes his head to respond, “yeah I can tell dude, you certainly didn’t shower.” 

“Huh” Jack grunts as he raises his arm to smell his pit, exposing a deep bush that Erik can’t help but stare in to with a hungry jealousy. He laughs once more, this time though there is something more sinister in it as Erik realizes that he has been staring down back at him the entire time, with something ulterior in his eyes. Before he can start to inquire or investigate what that is though Jack messes with his hair and heads for the showers, “why don’t you go and get started Erik, gonna need a lotta work to catch up with me huhuh!” 

He turns and leaves Erik alone, as he feels a fire burn in his chest. He should use this. Erik puts the game away as he throws on a workout playlist and he starts going all out lifting weights and going at the machines. He doesn't wonder how he so perfectly knows how to carry his body and expertly perform flawless exercise at every turn. He smirks as his pulse continues to race as he goes all out to try and sculpt his body like Gilgar, er Jack did. There is an itch on Erik’s chest as he does so, hope it’s not a rash he thinks as he continues about the workout. He scratches at it as below his shirt hair begins to push out in the middle of his pecs. It swirls around aiming to cover them entirely as a similar itch starts winding his way up his stomach as his treasure trail expands thicker and darker, rising higher to connect his pubes to his increasingly expansive chest hair. The music on his phone changes without his notice to the songs from the game. Enki’s theme starts to rise in pitch as his grunts deepen with every thrust and pull of his workout. The deepest itch yet starts to emerge in his pits as he throws weights down to scratch at them  His hands absolutely rank with his pit sweat as he brings his hand to his nose and smirks as he looks down to his darker hair, smirking as he already feels more like a man.

Erik then has the brilliant idea that if he switches to the treadmill where he’ll be able to play the game while still getting his blood pumping. Once he sets the treadmill going and pulls out the app, ignoring a picture sent from his friend, he sees that after starting his membership he has gotten another pull in game. He crosses his fingers this time desiring nothing more than to get himself, no, his Enki once more. He could not care about the improbability of it all as after the bright flash he hears the familiar grunt of Enki as he whispers under his breath along, still racing faster than he’s ever run before on this treadmill.

As he elevates his hero to three stars he finds himself running even faster on the treadmill. His stomps growing heavier as he continues to race faster and faster on the machine without lifting a finger or pushing a button to speed it up. He exhales through his nose like a bull as he feels his blood course through him, spreading a heat through the whole of his body. He clenches the arms of the treadmill just to exert further force upon it as his vision begins to grow red as he begins to outpace the fastest setting on the treadmill. Tears appear in his shoes and his thighs burst larger, absolutely tearing his shorts to shreds as he slams step after step into the track of the machine. He grasps at the knob of the treadmill trying to ratchet it faster than it’s max to little avail. 

His blood burns in his veins as he twists the button off the shoddy machine and every muscle in his body tenses and surges larger as he feels rage become impossible to control, displacing every thought in his mind. His shirt strains and then bursts as his chest flexes larger exposing the newly hairy curls on his still growing pecs as each expansive breath surges deeper and heavier. 

He strains to restrain himself  from enacting violence in the middle of the gym as he sees his phone fall to the floor, somehow midway through yet another pull without his input. He feels spit on his chin dripping through a beard he didn’t even notice he started growing as he breathes through his clenched teeth. It begins to push out even further, his jaw itching deeply from every angle as his stubble becomes a dense beard, thicker than he would have thought ever possible as Enki’s familiar theme begins to blare from the phone dropped on the floor. 

He pants as he struggles to hold back his rage though as the seconds pass he starts to wonder why he would ever do so, he is En- no he is Erik. He is a formidable, ugh. He clenches at his head as his legs push him higher into the air. He sees thick veins surge down his arms as they force themselves larger, hair darkening them up from his wrist and spreading up his biceps as his chest hair spreads to connect to his dense pits. His body begins to shake with the rage barely restrained.

At this moment there is once more a friendly arm around his shoulder and a familiar musk immediately breaks through his mindless anger as he turns to see his friend. His rival? It is not worth interrogating, he closes his eyes and smells the musk of his long companion Sir Gilgar. He turns to look him directly in the eyes, finding himself directly at eye level despite being well below it when he first stepped into the gym. There is a cocky smirk plastered on his face as if he were used to being the most impressive man in the room. Erik finds himself readily agreeing with this assessment, as long as of course Enki himself does not hold the position, shaking his head as he flexes groans as his body struggles to expand even further. 

Erik shakes back to reality as he sees that Sir Gilgar has been talking to him, his eyes inscrutibly somewhere between a haughtiness and a hunger as he continues, “Sorry Enki are you not listening?” Erik feels his check burn and he groans as he responds, “I, I am Erik not ugh.” He feels his mind grow confused as he sees his friend, his bedfellow in front of him. Thoughts fly through his head from two worlds and he struggles to remember who, Erik is.

Seeing Erik’s eyes grow blank as drool begins to pool in his mouth Gilgar kneels to grab the phone and begins tapping through the menus of the game. Taking a moment to stare and smirk at his own reflection in the screen before navigating to a purchase menu for Erik. He sees the bulge in Erik’s shredded pants begin to grow heavier as he hands his phone to him and asks, “Why not get this over with Enki, just embrace it. Don’t you want to be with me? All you need to do is hit one button.”

Erik’s eyes blast back to focus as he grunts and his cock surges even larger in his underwear at the thought of being with the man in front of him. Without a thought he purchases one last pull and doesn’t even watch as he knows what is to occur. He feels his pulse begin to race as an itch spreads through his veins, every tendon and muscle in his body warms as he almost vibrates with energy. Gilgar leads him to the locker room as he continues to convulse and grow.

Memories of his life before this game fade without contest as he recalls life as Enki, the barbarian, the warrior. Pride surges through him as he remembers countless victories and the beyond countless days of training to ensure this. He recalls being the pride of his village, of his people, of Sir Gilgar’s eye. He remembers the fateful day they met and the wrestling match that ensued, the contest that locked them together ever more, and the subsequent wrestling matches that devolved into something even more primal.

These memories continue to surge into his head as he continues to follow his companion into the locker room. His suddenly confused at why he is in such a bizarre place, he is a warrior is he not? Enki scratches at his pit and sniffs the musty air before deciding not to care, thinking was more his friend’s purview. The only thing he is truly concerned about at the moment is the increasing weight in his crotch. Seeing Gilgar start to disrobe in the corner of this tiled room Enki’s lust grows beyond any ability to fight it as he pounces, not even thinking to remove his underwear as his cock pushes beyond the bounds anyway. The two then begin wrestling as they often do before it turns into the frotting that it always does these days.

Enki does not know or care for the game that he awoke obsessed with this morning. Nor will he ever again. In fact there are few things at all as he prefers to do anything but think. Though somewhere beyond his rage, beyond his lust, he will be grateful for that link sent by his companion for it has allowed him to experience truly mindless pleasure evermore.