Psychopatycznysocjopata - Bez Tytuu - Tumblr Blog

As a kid, I watched a film that had these big cavemen tie a nerd to a pole before he was saved by his archaeologist friends. Since then, the idea of a bunch of cavemen taking a nerd to physically turn him into one of them while forcefully dumbing him down makes me so aroused. Too bad it didn't even happen in the movie, let alone real life...

‘Neanderthals!’ has been one of Terrance’s favorite movies since he was a kid, which made most of his friends very confused. A lot of them couldn’t figure out why he liked it so much. Terrance was the founder, president, and only member of his high school's movie club, the volunteer movie reviewer for his college newspaper, and generally the biggest movie buff that most people ever got to meet, but his favorite movie, out of all of the choices, was a C-list kids movie where a bunch of teen archeologist unfreeze three real cavemen who were stuck in an iceberg, and have to deal with their shenanigans. It was nothing special, just a lame kids movie that wasn’t even bad enough to be funny. None of his fellow movie buffs could figure out why you loved it so much, but the answer was surprisingly simple: that movie was Terrence’s sexual awakening. Watching the trio of muscular, hairy cavemen tie up a 15 year old nerd (who was played by a 19 year old actor for some reason) and dance around him ritually woke something up inside of him. He seriously thought for a moment that he was going to watch the nerd be turned into a caveman, and that fleeting thought has stuck in his mind for years like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He became fascinated with the idea of caveman transformations, and had watched the movie dozens of times over the years. Terrance had seen it so much he thought he knew everything about his favorite movie at this point, that he had every scene, every fact memorized. Until he heard about the missing scenes.

Like many small movies, the fanbase for it was incredibly small, but dedicated. It had one small reddit page, with about 7 people who regularly posted on it regularly, Terrance among them. Things were usually pretty calm there, until one day a newcomer to the forum reported that they had found a copy of the movie with deleted scenes. At first Terrance thought it had to be a scam, but the anonymous fan claimed he’d send a copy of the deleted scenes in the mail, for free, and Terrance accepted. He doubted the guy was trying to hack him with a DVD or something, so even though Terrance wasn’t expecting much, he gave the stranger his address (the address of a PO box. He wouldn’t give your address to a stranger, he was horny not crazy). He was shocked when he actually got the DVD as promised, and even more surprised when He put it on. As it blared to life, he immediately recognized the opening! It really was ‘Neanderthals!’ Or at least a version of it! The sender seemed to have cut out most of the scenes that were the same, leaving only the missing scenes and the opening left. Terrance watched in awe, laughing at the bloopers and making notes on the different scenes that were left out. Then, finally, they got to the scene you had been hoping for. 

It started out mostly the same as it did in the original movie, with one of the teen archeologists, Hal the stereotypical nerd, being kidnapped by the three cavemen, who danced around a fire as he was tied to a nearby pole. But soon the scene changed, and unlike in the original, the cavemen turned their attention to their captive. One of the cavemen, the one who gets redeemed toward the end of the movie and marries one of the main character Moms (like I said this was a weird movie), went up to Hal and rubbed some colored mud on his face, making distinct ritualistic markings. Terrance felt warm excitement come over him as he watched the three cavemen chant and dance wildly, and watched as what he always wanted to happen happened. Hal’s skin tanned slightly and his hair grew longer, wilder and dirtier. Terrance watched, entranced, as his muscles grew beefy and defined, practically able to feel the warmth coming from the fire as you did. He could see the actor's eyes glaze over as his brain seemed to melt and devolve, and could practically feel the dumb guffaw he made echo in your ears as his face became more gruff and his intelligence drained. This was exactly what Terrance had always wanted, what Terrance had been dreaming of seeing for years! Terrance’s itch was finally being scratched, and it felt so good. Terrance felt so good. Terrance felt great! Terrance felt… horny! He practically tore off his clothing, struggling with the buttons for some reason, and began to pull at his cock. He felt himself laugh dumbly and began to mutter.

“Terry is so… horny… Terry wants… pussy!” Terrance said, despite having been gay mere moments before. He laughed dumbly as the remains of his clothing magically transformed, becoming a loincloth. Terry continued to jerk his now growing cock as his changes finalized. Terrance was gone, replaced with Terry, a dumb, buff caveman, and all Terry wanted to do was to find a cave girl to plow.

**hey there! First time doing a caveman TF. Found it very hot (but also hard to find pictures for). Hope you guys liked it!**

Pre-Homo Sapience

Devolution story at last! It's not everyone's cup of tea I imagine but I think this turned out quite well! Hair growth, mental corruption, muscle growth, and loss of self ahead!

Thanks to all who offered suggestions! Went back to a prompt from one of my older follower celebrations! This story came quite naturally, as it were, haha! Enjoy! -Occam

If they didn’t want him to touch the thing they shouldn’t have simply left it out in the open like that. Chris knows such instructions are typically a given in a museum, but staring at the cut on his hand he is indignant and wishes there was at least a sign up. Surely it should be in a case or something. Feeling the warm blood start to trickle down his palm he looks up at the artifact and almost feels it calling out for him to touch it again. He raises his non-cut hand as it is magnetically drawn to the prehistoric piece before shaking it off and going to get first aid.

Chris plays coy with the volunteers, not wanting to out himself as either a scofflaw or irresponsible dullard. His desire to prevent this from happening to another museum goer fades to the back, well behind his need to appear like a man who wouldn’t try to grab an object older than the written word. To that end he is desperately trying to convince himself that he wasn’t bizarrely drawn to the object, though as the stone shard graces his mind once more the desire to hold it in his hands returns.

After getting his cut bandaged up Chris opts to remain discrete and toss a note in their suggestion box. En route there however he passes the stone shiv and finds it encased in a glass box, one that the cut on his hand proves could not have been there minutes ago. He hand stings as he clenches it and he races up to inspect the display. There’s yet another drive by his hands to grab at the piece only to be met with a cold bump against the glass. Nearby a student eyes him suspiciously and Chris nervously laughs, embarrassment clear on his face.

He takes a picture to research the object later, hopefully to find the root to whatever weird compulsion is affecting him. As soon as he snaps the picture he feels a hot flash, his forehead suddenly  burns as he is overcome by a harsh fever. Through the sudden headache and slight delirium from his still rising temperature he stumbles out of the museum and to his car. Chris’ body goes on autopilot as he barely maintains consciousness on the drive home. Slamming the door behind him he just makes it to the couch before passing out, the last image before an empty unconsciousness being the all too alluring artifact clutched in his bleeding hand. 

Sun streams in through the windows alighting the clothes strewn about the floor having apparently been discarded while he was asleep. Chris stretches and loudly yawns as a sunbeam shifts to land on his face. Blocking the rays as he rubs his eyes and groans, he scratches at his stomach and looks down shocked to have slept in the nude. Covered in dried sweat he stumbles into the kitchen to get a glass of water, reaching for a pitcher he sees the bloody bandage on his hand and the events of yesterday afternoon come rushing back to him.

First Chris sets a thermometer going, fingers crossed he can call out. While that’s on he sets to remove the bandage, where he discovers that whatever oddities happened yesterday are not done with him yet. The cut is completely healed. Rubbing the spot where it should be he finds rougher skin, slightly darker than the rest of his pale palm. Quite the opposite of his standard experience with scars but hey he’s no doc. He grumbles to himself that he’d better not have gotten some ancient sickness from that stupid rock before starting his coffee brewing and sitting down to research said artifact before work.

Chris prides himself on the ease with which he usually scours the internet for information. Though to find anything concrete on this, by all accounts, indistinct piece of ancient detritus is a more difficult mission than he was prepared for. His eyes glaze over as he grows bored from staring at barely significant rocks and pottery sherds. He scratches at his jaw finding he could do with a shave before going to pour himself some coffee. He chews on his lip as his mind struggles to put any two thoughts together in his mind on the matter.

On the way back to the desk he takes a sip of his coffee. Chris immediately gags as the coffee tastes stronger and far more bitter than any brew he has suffered before. He can’t help but spit it onto the floor as he stands there still unclothed. It splashes onto his feet and he grunts in pain, his arms raise in rage though finding no target he limps to sit down and check his burns. His brow furrowing at how he could have messed up his coffee to such a degree. Looking back it tasted like it always has? Just stronger, more intense.

He shakes off his contemplation as he brings his coffee stained foot up into his lap. The skin is obviously red from the light burns but there seems to be no long-lasting damage. His eyes drift from his feet to his hands however as he notices something the most bizarre occurrence yet, there is hair on the back of his hands? He doesn’t know how he’s possibly missed it, there are dark brown hairs spreading out from his wrists, down his forearms and towards his long fingers. He’d almost swear his eyes are playing tricks on him as the hair on his right hand, once bandaged if not cut, looks thicker and darker than that on its pair.

Chris ponders on how unaware he must have been lately to miss the hair on his arms growing at such a prodigious rate. Muttering to himself about not doing enough self-reflection he remains unaware of more drastic changes happening across his body. Perhaps if his hands and feet were not observed at the same time he would notice as all four extremities are larger than when he fell asleep the day before. His wider palms briefly struggled to maintain grace on the keyboard earlier but the lengthened fingers found their marks with enough ease to bury the lede. His feet cover more of the floor than they ever have before and, much like his hands, hair is sneaking down from his ankles and creating a hobbit-esqe patch on the top of them, while stray hairs curl out further on each toe.

His mind is torn whether to get back to researching the artifact or to call a doctor. Before either side wins however he takes a step and promptly steps in the coffee sprayed on the floor. He grimaces in shock that he didn’t clean that earlier, it’s unlike him to make such a mess and not immediately clean it up. He groans and rubs his hands on his face, blaming his befuddlement on the fever while ignoring how his whole wider palm now matches the should-be scar. Both hands are darker and rougher on his face as they scratch against his increasingly thicker stubble and harsher brow. As soon as Chris tosses a towel down onto the mess his alarm goes off and he sees it’s time to head to work.

The man rushes for the door and almost exits before looking down to find he’s only clad in a surprisingly tight pair of briefs. He blushes, embarrassed that he almost left the house nigh-nude. The shock of it all hides how darker hairs curl up from his strained briefs as well as his package bulging out further than ever before. Throwing on whatever is easily grabable in his wardrobe with no thought spared on consistency or fashion he makes excellent time throwing on clothes. He doesn't worry about how much sloppier he looks in the mirror, it’s just stress. He pointedly ignores how his arms inch out further from his long sleeves or how his pants bunch at his ankles as they’ve never done before. He skips socks as his feet fit far too snugly in his oxfords for some reason. No time to shave stubble that even since waking up has spread further up his cheeks and down his neck as he again races to his car.

The drive seems to take longer than usual, though the clock on his dash would disagree. Not usually prone to road rage Chris finds every delay due to traffic far more irritating than usual. His brows hand thick over his eyes, casting shadows that can display nothing but contempt as it almost seems like a ridge is beginning to bulge on his forehead. He grunts and clutches at the wheel as the car in front of him hesitates to go on a green. His jaw cramps from how hard he’s clenching it as he avoids blaring on the horn. Underneath his shirt veins bulge down his forearms as hair begins to grow even thicker underneath them as they begin to put on weight and grow in strength.

He scratches at his chest as his clothes feel only increasingly itchy and tight, “God what is up with me today!” He takes a centering breath as his usually then chest pushes against his button up. With a sign he resolves to stay calm the rest of the drive. Having chilled out at all Chris realizes his hand that’s not on the wheel has strayed and is scratching at his crotch. He bites at his lip as he feels a burning itch there as his pants feel far too tight on his waist and in his crotch. He pretends not to see his cock bulging down a pant leg as he’s stopped at another light. He sighs as he maintains his composure and starts to watch passersby to help the light pass quicker.

Staring out the window Chris’ eyes are immediately drawn to a massive man jogging down the road. His mouth waters as he stares at the man’s muscular body shifts with each step, perfectly bouncing in the air. His mouth is not the only thing to water as he grunts and his cock forces into even more of a bulge as it starts to produce pre-cum in a manner it has never done before. His lust changes to envy as he imagines the freedom of the man, shirtless under the sun as his chest itches once more against his wretched garment. The car behind him honks as the light above him changes to green and Chris sees red, his arms again flex and the top button of his shirt pops open as something new burns in his chest. His foot accidently presses harder on the brake before shifting over as he speedily jets off.

Arriving at work just on time he rushes in the door, unfortunately unaware of the sweat-stains under his pits or the unmissable spot of precum in his pants were anyone to study his massive bulge. Rushing in the elevator he bumps into a coworker, Jake, who almost bursts out laughing in shock, “Hah! God Chris you look fucking awful!” He grabs at Chris’ arm lift to poke fun at his too-short sleeves, raising his arm and exposing the pit; he instead bats at the air and exhales, “Pwoh dude, you absolutely reek!?” He shifts to look at Chris’ unshaven face and sloppy hair and his expression drops slightly, concern tinting his eyes. “You are alright, right Chris?”

“Uhhh yeah. Little uh, fever.” For some reason Chris was almost struggling to keep up with his friend’s words. The speed at which he moved from observing aspects of Chris’ appearance was simply hard to follow, as soon as he put his mind to inspecting his own arm as his coworker called it out he was laughing at the next thing. Probably for the best, lest anxiety build in his chest and he cause a scene. As his arm is raised Chris smells his own body odor in a way he’s never been able to do before. The idea that you shouldn’t smell your own armpit mid-conversation does not occur to Chris as the scent briefly drives him crazy. He shoves his own head in his pit and takes a few deep sniffs.  His mouth opens as if he’s wanting to lick as his beard scratches against his tighter shirt.

His friend smiles and backs away, “Chris?” Hearing his name Chris snaps out of it, shaking his head a few times to get his bearings he sniffs the air a few times and is shocked as his sense of smell has clearly increased beyond what he would have deemed possible. He smells the cafeteria as the elevator passes it on the ascent. Less appealing than his own musk he can smell Jake’s cologne and beneath that something bizarre. Chris can smell fear coming from the man as readily as he can read it on his face. Chris’ back hunches as his shoulders grow weighter and his upper body bulges larger as he leans in to inspect Jake more closely.

Jake backs into the corner of the elevator seeing something shift in Chris’ eyes. Not so much crazed as curious. Jake’s own curiosity would be piqued were this whole situation not bizarre and nightmarish. Standing almost a foot shorter with his hunch Chris sees Jake cower and he does his best to calm his friend down. Something in his gut compels him to do a wide toothy smile, that it’s the quickest way to appeasement. He raises his arms and backs away from his scared friend and there’s a tear as his clothes rip from the sudden movement.

Jake chuckles uncomfortably and eyes the button for the elevator doors, reaching for one to allow him a quick escape. Chris nervously goes into damage control, everything in his mind screams at him to act normal but the concept of normality seems increasingly alien to him. He waves his larger arms in the air and clears his throat to try and speak, “Jake. Me- I am sick, yes?” Jake covers his mouth with a handkerchief and stops the elevator on the next floor. Talking through his kerchief he agrees, “Yeah, you should work from home today Chris. You’re clearly, um, out of sorts.” 

The doors begin to close and Chris’ eyes light on the control panel. He blinks hard a few times trying to make out which one will keep the doors open so he can talk with his friend. Just before they close he grunts and he shoves out a meaty fist, causing Jake to flinch, “Yes. I go home and work, uhh, there. Good idea. You bring-” Jake steps back and nods fervently, “Yes, yes. I’ll drop off whatever you need just, go get some rest.” 

Chris offers another toothy smile and grunts in agreement as he lets the doors close. He scratches at his head as he again looks at the panel in confusion. Distress fills his mind and anxiety his chest as he stares at the panel knowing this should be a beyond simple matter. Before he touches a button the machine begins moving down and every muscle in his body tenses. More tears shoot down the back of his shirt as he flies into the corner of the tiny room. Hair pokes out from every button in the front as he pants in fear of the sudden movement. Body tight with fear muscle continues to grow heavier on his body, undefined and powerful as he unknowingly nears the ground floor. 

Arriving at the ground floor the doors open and he rushes out falling on his hands in front of the elevator. His eyes are focused and expression clueless as he breathes through his mouth and pushes past a woman about to step into the elevator before she smells the stink inside and recoils, scoffing at the man. Eying the torn clothes she grimaces at Chris, “God are you an animal?!” Chris’ thick brow furrows and he grunts at her, “Me- I- ugh!” With that he sprints as fast as he can away from the business and to what he can only just remember as his car. He kicks off his shoes as they grow painfully tight, his harrier feet race across the concrete as his soles feel increasingly suited to stomping across matted earth.

He pauses at his car’s door for a second hesitating at the method of entry before hopping in and slamming the door behind him. Everything laid in front of him is impossibly familiar, he’s been at this wheel thousands of times. He moves his hands across the leather wheel and tries to force it to turn, grunting as it stays firm. He wrenches at it with all the might he has, sure this is how it must go. He knows how to drive after all. He’s not stupid. His brow grows even heavier over his eyes as his beard thickens with every grunt. His biceps put on the mass of a weightlifter as the wheel jolts and his car alarm begins to go off. 

His car blaring he has no recourse but to punch at the wheel as anxiety grows. His chest heaves with nervous breaths. He scratches at his chest and feels the hair beneath it thicken and curls as it spreads towards his shoulders and up towards his messy beard. His wild eyes still as he sees another man jogging down the street shirtless as he too rips off the tattered remains of his button up. Grimacing at his confined thighs he tears at his torn pants as well, fighting the urge not to bend down and gnaw them off. Hairy thighs unveiled, his hands try to reach and tear off his impossibly tight briefs as well before his chest pangs and his head wrenches back. He can’t do that. He needs to keep them. He twists in discomfort as two impulses vie to this end. His face grows red under his still thickening beard as he is barely able to retain this smallest shred of dignity.

He pushes open the door with his newfound power, only accidentally getting at the handle before down the street. The weight of his upper body, and the apparent shorter length of his legs, puts the idea in his head that his arms could well help him run faster. His heavy knuckles hang low and he barely maintains his mind as he sprints as a man does and makes a better time back than he ever could in that stupid car. He exhales in pride as he gets to the door of his house. It was thankfully left open by his thoroughly less scatterbrained morning self. This time as he worms his way in he leaves it consciously ajar.

His stomach rumbles with hunger and he sniffs to find a suitable quarry. He squints as he smells food behind cabinets, opening them he finds packages of processed snacks and containers unrecognizable as food. Chris grunts as he knocks a few of them off the shelves onto the floor, grumbling as he grows hungrier by the second. After knocking a glass bottle to the floor, the shattering sound returns awareness to Chris’ eyes, grunting out a “Wha-” 

Seeing the mess he’s apparently made he stands back in shock, looking down at his hairy body and thick arms. His cock finally outgrows his tight briefs and his heavy balls hang low underneath a bush hairier than any human should be able to grow. He searches for his cell before realizing he must have discarded it with his pants, “fuck!” he shouts, clenching at his thick throat as his voice resounds a deep bass.

Standing in his kitchen his mind slowly crawls to find any idea worth pursuing as concepts and meaning begin to fall from his mind never to return. His train of thought is interrupted before he can even realize that he doesn’t know his own name anymore. Language begins to fall by the wayside, another thing not worth knowing as his need for food continues to grow. Every groaned word grows thicker and slower in between grunts as his mind dulls and his senses continue to grow more sensitive, “Me… Hungry…” Barely understanding what a fridge is he grabs and pulls at the door and uncovers a packaged pound of raw meat. 

Chris’ mouth immediately waters as he rips into the package and begins forcing it into his mouth with a speed that would make one think he’s never eaten before. Eating is not a ritual but an act of survival. Not nearly full he continues tearing into anything that is obviously food in the fridge. Handfuls of lettuce and fruit follow a jug of milk and at last the man is sated. What was intended to be hamburgers later this week litter the floor around him as milk trails down his sweaty body. Seeing ground beef stuck under his nails and lettuce caught in his dense beard something deep inside Chris screams before it is buried beneath the powerful will of a creature who has yet to develop the ability to understand.

The ultimate task of survival currently conquered, Chris sniffs the air and sets to tackle the next challenge presenting itself. His cock bulges out and his balls pulse with the same primal hunger that rings from his stomach. He grabs at his cock and has a eureka moment more profound than when his kind discovered fire as he feels more pleasure in the moment than in his whole life preceding.

He falls to the floor and immediately begins masturbating, his balls bouncing with every movement, his hips can't help but rut the air as his brain was hard wired to do. Drool drips into his beard from his open mouth as his eyes again glaze over from the sheer pleasure invoked by his mindless pleasure seeking. After finishing he languishes in the less-than cerebral pleasure, feeling every inch of his  powerful body before his cock begins to rise again and in short order he looses another load onto his own hairy torso.

Sniffing the air he has an urge to scoop his own cum into his mouth. Thankfully, for whatever mute anemic shred of Chris’ humanity remains, he is interrupted. His laptop left open from his flight early this morning chimes and his attention is firmly drawn to the mysterious object. The screen displays mysterious characters that he couldn’t hope to read ‘From: Jake omw.’ beside the enigmatic symbols his attention is drawn to the centerpiece of the screen, finally something he can recognize. Smack dab in the middle of the laptop is the stone shiv from the Natural History Museum. Chris’ exhales with interest and fury as he knows beyond a doubt that the artifact is his. 

Chris’ dull eyes shift as he struggles to make even the most rudimentary plan towards retrieving his shiv. He grunts in irritation as he finds the gears of his mind turning impossibly slowly, at the edges of whatever consciousness is to him he suddenly remembers that he saw it yesterday. He knows where it is, he just needs to go get it. His chest burns with excitement and he is filled with the desire to beat at his chest and cheer. He looks around for any tools that could help in his foolhardy mission before impatiently grunting and turning towards the door.

Outside Jake is approaching, blissfully unaware of what impossible horrors await inside besides an unusually slovenly and sick Chris. Seeing the entrance ajar he hastens and drops the paperwork he brought as concern trumps whatever busywork he brought his friend. “Oh Fuck! Chris!? Are you okay!?” Crossing the threshold his nose wrinkles as he smells odors that men have not produced for hundreds of thousands of years. The scene almost stuns him as he sees a creature that has barely a similarity with the man who woke up on the couch this morning. The fridge door lies on its hinges next to a pile of food waste. There are globs of inhuman cum staining the walls as what was once Chris beats his chest now opposed to Jake. 

The office worker can’t use the one advantage he has over the behemoth. Freezing up as his mind goes blank Jake whispers, “God, you look like a fucking caveman.” Jake stands in the door frame, scared and unsure of what could possibly be going on. Chris quickly jumps down to meet him, sniffing him to find a familiar, if not friendly, scent; he attempts to push him gently out of the way. Unaware of the frailty of modern man he instead bowls him over and sprints off into the distance, unconcerned with the man he’s barrelled past or any of the other weird submissive beings covered in mysterious cloth just as he was. He’s got a mission and more than anything he needs to feel his shiv in his hands once more.

Lightly concussed Jake later awakens to find his clothes stained with Chris’ bountiful dinner and, worse than that, his seed. He grimaces and takes off his button up then in there before heading inside to inspect his friend's domicile. Each step within sharpens his senses and dulls caution as his friends' pheromones draw him further in. while initially beyond repulsive it becomes more alluring by the second. Why should Jake be concerned by the sudden itchiness rising across his form. The rising pressure in his crotch as he takes deep breaths is far more compelling. Clothes feeling uncomfortable and constricting, he rips them off and pays no mind to hair darkening and spreading wide, his mind too dull to recognize how he too is changing like Chris. 

Wandering out of the house he smells a fading trail of Chris’ pheromones going off towards the museum, his cock bobs larger in his pants as it  takes everything in his mind to stop from sprinting after him then and there. Shaking off the lust, sensibility returns to Jake’s mind as the breeze cools his almost entirely nude body. He writes off his phone and clothes, sure that reentering would spell his doom he instead sprints for his car. Before any further action though the wind delivers the beyond pleasurable smell of Chris’ approaching. 

What was once Chris barrels down a field ambling between charging on his legs and all fours, slightly scratched from breaking glass with a stone shiv in hand. Having regained his artifact his body has grown in every possible manner. Jake can’t help but lustfully stare as the massive man approaches and his decaying mind has no ability to prevent him from following his desires. He discards whatever remains of his plan to fly and instead bounds towards the brute, with each step his body devolves. Growing hairier as his mind prioritizes only survival and the seeking of sexual pleasure. His cock surging as he nears his friend, his superior, nothing ever to grace his conscious again besides the desire to fuck and be fucked.

A Burly Bargain

Connor had finally decided to dedicate a day to updating his aging wardrobe. An embarrassing amount of his clothes were still from high school, despite being a college grad now. He decided to check out a thrift store he’d driven past a number of times, a quaint little building called ‘New You Thrift’. There were always plenty of cars outside so he figured it had to be a decent place to try to find something new. He pulled into an open spot right in front of the door and hopped out of his car.

Upon entering he found that the outside was deceptively small; the store was massive, with aisles of every type of clothing he could think of stretching into the distance. With no one to greet him, Connor began wandering around displays and racks, unsure of what he was actually looking for. He figured he’d know when he saw something he liked, but as five, ten, fifteen minutes passed he started to stress out. That was, at least, until he stumbled upon a rack with a big sign labeled ‘Bulked Up Deals: 80% off!’. He couldn’t pass up a deal like that, he thought to himself, as he browsed the offerings. There was a lot of junk, but he found a cute short sleeve button up shirt, and some comfy looking shorts that he thought he’d at least try on. Pulling his gaze from the endless racks of clothing he saw a bright neon sign on the wall for dressing rooms, and began to make his way in that direction. 

Connor drew the curtain of the room closed and looked at himself in the mirror. He was a cute guy, he thought to himself, with a slim build and a little bit of scruff on his face. The old t-shirt and gym shorts look wasn’t doing him any favors though. The shirt was faded and he was pretty sure it had a hole somewhere on his back, and the shorts were too long and baggy. He stripped them off before pulling the new shorts up his legs, then slipped the shirt on and buttoned it up, leaving one open at the top. Connor took a step back and looked at himself in the mirror. Objectively it was a cute summer outfit, but it looked off to him. Maybe he was just too used to seeing himself in baggy t-shirts, he thought. As he looked over himself in the mirror something caught his eye; there was a speck of something dark right above his shirt collar. Concerned, he leaned in towards the mirror to look closely. It was… hair? Connor squinted at his reflection to confirm what he was seeing. Sure enough, there was a long dark hair poking out from his shirt.

Connor reached a hand up to feel for this hair, and his hand found plenty more just beneath the collar waiting to pop out and join it. He paused, thoughts racing, unsure of what to make of this revelation, when suddenly his whole body seemed to cramp up in an instant. Connor buckled to his knees, his entire body contorting as muscle began to push out of his slim frame. Two large pecs raised themselves like mountains from the flat plane of his chest. His abs enlarged and dug themselves a deep shredded valley between. His shoulders grew into boulders as the size traveled down his arms, biceps and triceps inflating with years of muscle. Connor’s back tightened as his lats and traps doubled in size, widening his upper body considerably. His thighs swelled, pushing against the new shorts as his legs strengthened. A groan slipped out of Connor’s mouth as he hunched over in front of the mirror, finally looking up at his reflection. The man who stared back was shockingly different, a shredded jock stretching the thrift shop clothes to the limit. 

Connor finally managed to get back to his feet when a strange itching sensation arose in parts of his body. For a moment he thought it was a reaction to the fabric he was now tightly pressed against, but the feeling was far too concentrated. Within moments it reached a breaking point in his pits, where under his skin tight shirt hundreds of hairs had started to push out. The soft wispy hairs that had occupied his pits before were overwhelmed by new, dark, thick armpit hairs. The hairs sprouted and curled together as a thick rug took root in both his pits, already slick with sweat. He could feel the hairs continue to push out, growing longer and thicker as testosterone soaked the follicles, adding more hairs to the muscled cavities under his arms.

Connor couldn’t help but try and scratch at his pits, hair flourishing from inside his shirt. He instead felt the sweat-soaked fabric as his pits had gone into overdrive, muscle still slowly building in his arms and shoulders. He took a deep breath, trying to still the overwhelming sensation. Instead, the top button of his shirt popped off, exposing his still-growing pecs. In his surprise he inhaled sharply, popping another button off. The blank canvas of his massive chest was revealed, graced solely by the scant few hairs he’d felt earlier at the base of his collarbone. Those few hairs began to spread like wildfire with thick hairs cropping up across his chest. They spread outward, first engulfing his collarbone before racing south, hairs coating his pecs and multiplying in the valley between them. The hairs also traveled upwards unbroken, creating a solid path of fur from his chest up his neck. The wispy scruff that grew on Connor’s upper lip and chin was engulfed by a wave of dark stubble. It stretched from his neck over his jaw and up his cheeks, hairs filling in between others, leaving him with an extremely dense layer of hair, though still short. His chest itched as the fur coat grew thicker, hairs tangling and curling together as his testosterone fueled carpet continued to expand, stretching out to mingle with the bushes in his pits. The wave of hairs continued downwards, his newly defined abs vanishing beneath a thick rug of curly hairs.

Connor, unable to make sense of what was happening, scratched at the newly grown pelt on his chest. He pulled through the dense mat, hairs curling around his fingers as whorls of hair were stretched and pulled longer from his chest. Upon pulling his hand back he thought dozens of hairs had been pulled free, stuck in his hand. In reality, his knuckles had started to sprout the same dark hairs as the rest of him. Patches of thick hairs were popping out across the backs of his hands, the dark fur surging up his forearms. His upper arms succumbed to the hairs, becoming buried beneath a constantly growing and shifting rug. The hairs traced over his shoulders, sprouting like weeds across the open expanse of his delts and traps, circling back to connect to the ever thickening carpet of hair on his chest. 

The hair on his collarbone tufted out slightly more, that same growth racing up to his face, where his thick stubble slowly began to push outwards from his face. The shadow across his cheeks lengthened into a dense beard, hairs weaving together into a solid mass of masculinity. The last vestiges of his original peach fuzz were erased as dark hairs erupted across his upper lip into a solid curtain of hair. Connor felt an itch on his back as hairs shot up across his shoulder blades, patches of hair that grew fuzzier as they spread outwards. He could feel it as the hairs began pushing against the tight shirt hugging his back, the growing forest of hair puffing out as it raced down towards his ass.

The explosive hair growth shot down Connor’s back til it reached the small of his back where it blossomed into a field of dark hairs that rested above his waistline. His ass was next up, his plump cheeks slowly darkening as hairs dusted themselves across the globes before the shadow pushed out into a curly rug. He could feel his ass inflating too, stretching the fabric of the shorts even more as hairs squirmed out between. Between the cheeks was even worse, with thick wiry hairs erupting from his crack and hiding his hole beneath a forest of dark fur. The itch of sprouting hair was unbearable as Connor tried in vain to relieve himself, but the changes beneath his shorts had only just started. 

Connor’s cock, pressed between his ever tightening shorts and his body, began to twitch. Blood raced into it, engorging his member to its full five and a half inches, throbbing against the fabric. The same itching sensation appeared in his groin moments later. Connor stifled another groan as he could feel thick, wiry hairs pushing out above his cock. His wispy bush quickly darkened, becoming a thicket of curls as hair after hair pushed out. His balls swelled up to twice their original size before flooding his body with even more testosterone. Hormone fueled follicles went into overdrive, thick hairs erupting across his balls as his bush crept outward, engulfing more and more territory beneath a jungle of sweaty hair. His cock lurched, feeling harder than it ever had before as it stretched out, growing thicker and longer. It pushed out, six, seven, eight inches creating a solid imprint in his shorts as hairs began to crawl up his shaft. His bush at last escaped the confines of his shorts, hairs blazing up to his navel and blending with the rug on his stomach. Connor looked down to watch helplessly as dark hairs popped up across his meaty thighs, at first just a handful but within moments they were sprouting across the entire surface. The carpet descended his legs, thick hairs tangling together as the growth never ceased. His feet pulsed with pain before his shoes split open, revealing his newly size 15 feet only to have them coated with hair in seconds, dusting even his toes with dark curls. 

Connor groaned as his whole body felt like it was bloated. Any movement he made brought the sounds of tearing seams as his body tested the limits of the fabric. His stomach gurgled as his newly defined abs slowly vanished beneath a growing layer of fat. His eyes went wide as more buttons popped off his shirt, his growing belly making itself known. He could feel the rest of him putting on more mass, softening as defined muscles were buried. His fingers thickened and hands grew calloused as more hairs continued to push out. The open shirt revealed the muscle gut’s growing rug as hairs filled in between others and curled together across his meaty torso.  His face itched once more as his beard grew dense and longer, hairs crawling up higher on his cheeks. His face grew more square as his jaw widened beneath the increasingly wild beard. His brow thickened and eyebrows grew darker. Connor saw the hair on his head start to retreat, the testosterone flooding his body giving him a more mature hairline as the hair migrated south. 

With a final tearing sound, his body relaxed, having overpowered the flimsy outfit and grown into its full glory. The man who looked back at Connor in the mirror was the most masculine, virile figure he’d ever seen. Built like a truck and every exposed inch covered in thick hair, it was an unreal sight. He felt like he should be angry, disgusted, shocked, anything at all, but instead he felt content. The itchiness and growing pain subsided as a newfound confidence washed over him.Sure, he couldn’t close this shirt, but he looked damn good showing off his body in it. Perfect for the Bear Night he’d seen advertised at a local bar. He decided he’d ask the cashier if he could wear his new fit out, and with that he left his old clothes, and old life behind.

Thanks for sticking around y'all! I know it took a while to get a new story out, I hope you enjoy :)

If you do like my work and want to support me, I put a link in my profile where you can!

Aidan was so proud of the little bit of progress he was making in the gym. especially his pecs, which were finally starting to fill in nicely. However, he got cocky, and mouthed off to one of the older patrons in the gym. The older man smirked, spit in his palm and rubbed it all over Aidan’s porcelain smooth torso, saying with a rough, gravely baritone, “You wanna act all tough, like a man, gotta look like one too!” He laughed as Aidan  started to itch desperately at his chest, thick, dark wiry hair growing like a weed out of his pores. a thick heady musk forming under the new warm coat of fur.

XY

This story is a part of Occam's writing prompt challenge. I highly recommend y'all check out #occam2000 to read the other amazing entries by the other talented writers!!

LATEST REPORT ON RECENTLY DISCOVERED METAMORPHOSIS GENE 

Few things in this world are as beautifully intricate as human reproduction. However, it is not a perfect system. Any number of things could go wrong during the conception and/or birth of a human being, one of which includes genetic mutations. The chances of gene mutation are never zero. While modern-day doctors and scientists continue to fight the good fight of keeping harmful genetic disorders at bay, there is one particularly potent mutation a tiny percentage of the human population carries.

How long this mutation has existed within our gene pool is currently unknown. What is known is that although this malignant gene usually remains dormant within the human body, it can potentially rearrange an individual’s genetic composition and expression when active. Unfortunately, this information was only recently discovered after it had already wreaked havoc in [redacted]. The mutation has been dubbed the Metamorphosis (MM) gene. The MM gene is linked to the Y chromosome in humans. Fortunately, a male’s X chromosome usually functions as a suppressor, thereby keeping the malignant gene dormant in afflicted individuals. However, it is still possible for the MM gene to rekindle if certain conditions are met.

First, an afflicted male must lack the appropriate allele(s) for their X chromosome to properly function as a suppressor against the MM gene. Second, the individual’s body must be in a state of heightened activity due to intense physical exertion. Lastly, on a neurological level, the individual must experience high levels of dopamine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (or, in simpler terms— love). Should all these conditions be met, the door opens for the MM gene to potentially awaken within the subject. 

As you may have already surmised, statistical probability works in our favor against the MM gene. Unfortunately, however, there remains a chance, regardless of how slight, that the proper conditions will align for this chaotic mutation to awaken and wreak havoc on both the carrier male as well as any surrounding, non-carrier parties. This was the case with one individual in the town of [redacted]. 

Numerous questions about how the MM gene operates and spreads among non-carriers despite being classified as a genetic disorder inundate microbiologists with, unfortunately, little to no answers at the time of this report. Further research into the matter remains a high priority. 

END REPORT 

***

It was supposed to be an ordinary day like any other when Geovanni R. Diaz stepped into the gym that afternoon. He drank his pre-workout in the front lobby while waiting for his friend/gym partner Evan Washington to arrive. The two men had met at the beginning of summer when they both started hitting the gym on the same day. They bonded over making fools of themselves as they misused several exercise machines. They became close friends and regular gym buddies since then. 

Some 20 minutes had passed, and Evan was still nowhere in sight. Geo finished the last few sips of his pre-workout and decided to start without him. It was common for Evan to flake out, especially as of late. While Geo initially shared Evan's casual approach to the gym, he eventually decided he wasn’t satisfied with doing the bare minimum. He took on an intense 60-day workout regime to really challenge himself. Evan supported his friend’s endeavor, but the differences in their goals eventually showed themselves when Evan regularly skipped days while Geo kept at it. He didn’t take it personally; he had grown used to it, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having someone to joke around with between sets. Regardless, Geo claimed a chest fly machine, powered up his headphones, and then proceeded to get to work. 

“Hey papi, mind if I work in with you?” 

Geo heard a familiar voice behind him as he finished his warm-up set. He smiled as he turned and saw Evan leaning against the machine. 

“Hey, handsome, I thought you weren’t coming today.” Geo stood up and embraced his close friend. 

“Wasn’t planning on it if I’m being totally honest, but then I decided maybe I’ve been skipping too many days and forced myself out of bed to come here. Did you just start?”

“Yeah man! It’s chest and shoulder day today so I figured I’d start with my favorite machine,” Geo looked at Evan with a grin. “Care to join me?” 

Evan only laughed in response. They both already knew the answer, but they enjoyed asking anyway as a joke. With that, they proceeded to go through Geo’s workout plan together. Naturally, Evan couldn’t keep up with Geo anymore and had to lower the weight after every set, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying their time together. By the end of the workout, they were both tired and sweaty in the locker room after hitting the weights hard.

“I have no idea how you manage to stay on track with this whole fitness challenge thing…” Evan huffed as he caught his breath. “I’d probably give up after the first day. You look good though! Your hard work is paying off and it really shows!”

“You think so?” Geo said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s hard to tell sometimes. I look in the mirror and I feel good, but then I stare at myself too long and I start worrying if I’m just lying to myself.”

“That’s just body dysmorphia talking, you look great!”

“Aw thank you Evan, you’re too kind.”

“Of course! Anytime you need reassurance, I’ll always be here.” 

Evan flashed Geo a broad smile, and he smiled back. A few minutes passed before Evan started talking again. 

“Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking of making my world famous lasagna tonight, and I'd love to have you over for dinner.”

Geo stopped drying himself after he heard Evan say that. He turned slowly to Evan and saw him with a shy smile. The same smile formed on his face as he began to answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you, Evan. Of course I’ll come over tonight.”

Evan practically exploded with excitement. He ran to Geo for a hug, almost knocking him over due to the impact. Geo wrapped his arms around Evan and held him in a tight embrace. Their hugs always put Geo in a good mood. He was more than overjoyed to discover that Evan shared his feelings. He knew this hug would quickly become one of his top favorite memories. It was a tender moment between two men falling in love, which made it all the more noticeable when loud indigestion ended their sweet moment abruptly. Geo pulled away and held his stomach as he kneeled over in pain.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Evan asked. 

“Ugh… I’m fine. I think I just need a bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Geo ran off while Evan stayed behind in the locker room. Evan finished packing up their things while he waited. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Growing worried, Evan walked to the bathroom stalls to check on his beloved friend. He heard heavy, labored breathing coming from the only closed stall. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” 

Evan knocked on the stall door and found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open slightly. His jaw dropped to the floor when he found Geo naked and drenched in sweat on the tile floor. His eyes were clenched closed, and his face was distorted due to unbearable abdominal pain. Evan ran to his side. 

“What’s going on!? What’s wrong?” Evan asked with apparent urgency in his voice. Geo could barely get words out as he was too busy hyperventilating. 

“So… Hot…”

Evan held a hand against Geo’s forehead and almost immediately recoiled from how hot it was. Geo was running an extremely high fever, unlike anything he had ever seen! Evan’s eyes darted around the bathroom as he desperately sought solutions but couldn’t think of anything due to his panic. He was desperate. He knew he needed to act fast before—

“Ohhhh it hurts!!”

Geo’s sudden shriek stopped Evan’s negative line of thinking. At that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Evan’s gaze shot back to Geo. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what was happening to his soon-to-be boyfriend. Unbeknownst to both of them, Geo was a carrier for the Metamorphosis gene, and all the right conditions were met for it to awaken. The gene was hard at work rearranging Geo’s DNA, and he began transforming right before their very eyes! 

It began with his body hair. Like the other men from the paternal side of his family, Geo had never been able to grow much body hair, if any. However, he did have the genes needed for ample body hair, and thanks to the MM gene, it was finally able to express itself. Thick, black hair began sprouting out of his legs in spurts. With each hair follicle that grew in, Geo’s legs grew just a little bit thicker than before, causing Geo to moan obscenely loud as a result. The accelerated hair growth traveled up his legs and into his crotch area where his pubic hair grew in at an alarming rate until he had a jungle of bushy pubes covering his groin. His hairy balls hung lower than before after growing in size and his cock grew an inch thicker in width. Within a few minutes his entire lower half was transformed. His legs became as strong as tree trunks, and with a new, well-endowed package to boot— all covered in a thick layer of hair too! 

The transformation wave continued to ripple throughout the rest of his body. Geo twisted and writhed on the floor as the rest of his body underwent rapid changes. A prominent happy trail formed on his lower abdomen, connecting his belly button and pubic region with a line of long, messy hair. His pecs grew more plump as hair ran up his ab line and onto the center of his chest where it spiraled outward until it formed little rings of hair around his nipples. His chest and abdominal areas were only covered with a slight dusting of body hair compared to his legs. The stubble on his face grew until a thick, connected beard replaced the short goatee Geo once sported. 

His armpits were hit the hardest by the transformation. His pit hair grew and grew until it curled from its long length, leaving Geo with obscenely hairy underarms. Combined with the heavy sweat of an intense workout, Geo’s hairy pit smell began to fill the room. Evan recoiled from how unexpectedly strong Geo’s musky body odor had become, though he couldn’t resist helping himself to a couple of sniffs after he got a whiff of his powerful musk. 

The MM gene had thoroughly scrambled Geo’s DNA sequences, leaving him as a completely unrecognizable, alternate version of himself! 

“WHEW!! God I feel sooo much better now… Hey what’s wrong, babe? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“G… Geo? Is that you?” Evan stood in shock from disbelief. If he hadn’t witnessed it for himself, Evan would’ve never believed that the hairy, smelly jock lying in front of him, staring at him with a lustful smirk, was the same man he had just invited over for dinner. 

“Of course it is, mi hermosito, who else would I be?” Geo winked as he threw his arms up, leaving his hairy underarms exposed. “By the way, I saw you sniffing the air earlier… How about you come and have a whiff right from the source?” 

Evan chuckled nervously, but Geo wasn’t joking. His laughter died down as he realized just how dead-serious Geo was.

“No… You’re not seriously—” 

“Oh but I am,” Geo interrupted. “Just a little taste won’t hurt anyone. Call it a preview for what’s to come later tonight.”

“But right here? In the public bathrooms?”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone else is around right now. We’ll just have to keep our voices down if someone comes in. So, what do you say? I know you want to…”

Geo got up from the ground and approached Evan. He stood close enough that his scent naturally filled Evan’s nose without him needing to sniff. Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his friend’s intoxicating musk left him in a state of deep arousal. Of course, Evan had some reservations about hooking up with Geo after he had just randomly transformed right in front of him, but between how close Geo’s pits already were to his face and the fact that it still seemed to be the same man he had come to know and love on the inside, Evan couldn’t bring himself to reject the offer. Before he could think about it properly, he was already leaning in without even realizing it. 

Once Evan started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face deep into Geo’s sweaty, rank underarms. Geo’s coarse black hair tickled Evan’s nostrils as he nuzzled against the crevices of his pits. Muffled groans filled with pleasure escaped Evan’s mouth as he indulged in the manly, sweaty scent, each sniff leaving him more satisfied than the last. Soon enough, both Geo and Evan grew rock hard from all the sensual physical touch. The tents in their gym shorts poked and rubbed against each other as they continued pressing their bodies together. For Geo, the thought of getting worshiped in a public place like a gym bathroom was the hottest thing ever while Evan was just happy he got to service a hairy, sweaty gym rat. 

Evan briefly lifted his head out of Geo’s armpit for air. At that moment, Geo held his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Their tongues wrestled inside of Evan’s mouth as they locked lips. Once they had their fill of making out after a while, Geo began pushing Evan down onto his knees, to which Evan happily obliged. Geo’s cock stood at full mast, nearly poking one of Evan’s eyes out as he got into position. Evan was in awe as he held the heavy piece of uncut brown meat in his hands. He was drooling just from the sight of it! Not able to restrain himself anymore, Evan dove right in and guided the leaking tip into his mouth.

Arghh… Mmmmm…

Geo let out guttural moans as his friend went down on him. The sound of a man’s deep moans encouraged Evan to service him as best as he physically could. It was almost like he forgot he needed to breathe as he slurped Geo’s entire length up and down with his tongue until it hit the back of his throat. Geo squirmed and grunted obscenely loud as Evan wrapped his cock with his warm, moist mouth. He only lasted a few minutes until he couldn’t hold in his load anymore. Geo held Evan’s head down, his nose pressing against his unruly bush, and let out a loud groan from deep within his lungs as his load came rushing out. Evan whimpered with pleasure as he swallowed Geo’s heavy load, the salty taste of cum filling up his mouth. Once it was done, they both pulled away with a satisfied ahhh!

“Alright, get up. Your turn.”

Geo helped Evan up to his feet, then got down on his knees himself. Evan didn’t deny Geo’s advances, but he also didn’t help him get into position either. He had a blank expression as Geo proceeded to go down on him. Even as he swirled and sucked on his sensitive head, Evan didn’t react or say anything aside from an occasional soft moan. All he could focus on was a prominent cut on the inside of his cheek that he could feel with his tongue. Was that always there? Evan wasn’t sure, but regardless, it was already too late. The damage was done. He had contracted the MM gene from Geo. 

Evan winced as he began to notice a pain growing in the pit of his stomach. It started as a slight ache, but it quickly became unbearable. Evan hunched over, letting a low groan as he held his hands against his side where it hurt the most. It felt like he was being stabbed from the inside out! The next thing he knew, his muscles rapidly stretched and constricted as the gene started rearranging his DNA. 

Because Evan was a non-carrier and his immune system was not already accustomed to suppressing the malignant virus, the MM gene was able to activate without delay and transformed him much faster than Geo. He threw his head back and quietly moaned as the transformation happened. Geo was too busy giving him head to even notice. He just thought he was doing a good job. 

The MM gene was hard at work bringing out Evan’s hidden genetic traits. Although he was only 12.5% Black from his mother’s side, that was more than enough for the virus to play around with. Various points around his skinny body began to inflate with muscle mass. His thin frame and scrawny chicken legs filled in with much-needed mass, giving him sturdy legs with sharp ab lines and impressive cannons for arms. His biceps swelled to the size of melons as his body flexed under the tension of rapid transformation. Evan himself was surprised with how heavy his new body was becoming.

His facial structure shifted and morphed. His nose widened while his jawline became stronger and sharper. A bushy goatee beard grew in where he once could only grow peach fuzz. The once wholly flat-chested Evan Washington now sported two massive slabs of meat resting on his torso. His pecs were firm, strong, and hung low from their own weight. Coupled with bright pink nips, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he now possessed a perfect chest. Although his pale skin tone stayed the same, the MM gene brought his Black features out to the forefront, giving the once undeniably White young man a more visibly biracial appearance by the end of his transformation.

While Evan underwent a total identity change, Geo kept blowing him all the while. Although he did notice a sudden change in Evan’s girth and overall size, the taste of a nice, sweaty cock kept him focused on the task at hand. Geo simply took a breath through his nose and opened his mouth up even wider to keep deepthroating him. Evan’s body was still sensitive from having undergone rapid growth, which only made the pleasure of having his dick sucked sloppily increase tenfold. The veins in his thighs and cock twitched and throbbed as he climaxed and pumped out his thick load straight down Geo’s throat. Geo swallowed, sighed with deep satisfaction, and got up from the ground. 

“Mmm! You know, yours tastes kinda tangy!” Geo gathered and licked up the few stray drops dripping from Evan’s tip. 

Meanwhile, Evan was trembling, struggling to breathe after all the physical stimulation. Only after Geo finished cleaning up the spunky mess did he realize that the Evan standing before him no longer looked like the Evan he once knew.  

“What the— Who are you!! Where’d Evan go?” Geo yelled. Evan turned to look at him, and Geo saw his pupils dilating unnaturally rapidly. “Dude, what’s wrong with your eyes!?”

Evan said nothing in response. The MM gene fried his mind with a heavy concentration of hormones, leaving him in a state of severe brain fog. Evan stumbled forward to the nearby mirror. His cock was still semi-erect. The sight of his own dick was enough to make Evan drool as he admired and flexed his arm muscles. Geo tried calling his attention but to no avail. Evan was unresponsive to his shouts. He had one thing and one thing only on his horny mind. 

“More…” Evan muttered.

“More what?” Geo replied. Evan snapped his line of sight back at Geo. His dazed eyes wandered to Geo’s exposed junk, then narrowed as they met his eyes. He let out a low growl as his eyes suddenly had an intense look that caused Geo to take a few steps back. It was the same look a hungry lion gave a gazelle out in the wild. Geo swallowed his breath. He became acutely aware of the situation he was in.

“Dick! I want more dick!!”

Evan puckered his lips and lunged towards Geo, though Geo managed to sidestep him in time.

“Get away from me! Look man, you might be hot as hell but I’m not interested! I’m a taken man!!” 

Geo quickly gathered his discarded clothes and hightailed it out of the bathroom. Naturally, being in the hyper state that he was, Evan wasn’t going to give up until he got what he craved. He stumbled out of the bathroom stall ass naked, where he was about to run into the perfect target.  

“Man! Today is just not my day,” a bodybuilder mumbled as he walked into the locker room. Dylan was a muscle gay, and he came to the gym solely to go cruising that day. 

However, despite his efforts, he struck out. He was getting sexually frustrated, which made him incredibly willing to hook up with some random stranger in the bathroom. 

Dylan was as equally surprised as he was impressed when Evan stepped out of the stall with his cock out. The smell of sweat and cum hit his nose, arousing him. Dylan loved what he saw and decided to make his move on the muscle-bound hunk.

“Hey there, stud! Need a hand there?” Dylan whistled at Evan, catching his attention.

Evan turned to him. He was still visibly sweaty and was breathing heavily. Dylan wasn’t sure what to make of him, but Evan didn’t give him a chance to reconsider. 

Evan charged at him, planting his lips against his upon impact. Dylan was caught off guard but had no problem matching Evan’s energy. He kissed him back as their frisky hands began feeling up each other’s bodies. Although Dylan loved making out, Evan’s kissing style was quickly turning out to be way too rough for his tastes. Evan forced his tongue in, had an obscene amount of saliva, and even bit down on his bottom lip with enough force to draw blood.

“OWW! What the fuck man!?”

Dylan pushed Evan away and held his bleeding lip. He was glad that there wasn't a lot of blood, but was still rightfully pissed off. As ravenous as he was due to the MM gene, Evan was oblivious to what he had done. Instead, his attention shifted to another guy wearing only a towel near the showers. He ran off in that direction and left Dylan in the dust. 

“Prick…” 

With that, Dylan decided to just give up and get a quick workout in. He took out a rice bar and ate it as he returned to the main area. He did his stretches, picked up a couple of barbells, and claimed an open bench. But just as he was about to start his first set, a powerful hunger overcame him. He grabbed at his stomach and kneeled over in pain as the MM gene took effect.

All of Dylan’s hard-earned muscles melted away within a matter of minutes. He rapidly gained pounds upon pounds of body fat. What were once washboard abs complimented by chiseled biceps were replaced by flabby arms and a protruding, hairy gut. His pecs lost their firmness and began to sag as they became nothing but a pair of man boobs. All the while, the same overwhelming lust Evan had began growing within Dylan too.

A handful of nearby good samaritans came to Dylan’s aid after he collapsed. While they all tried to help Dylan, most stayed back after witnessing his sudden transformation firsthand. Nobody knew what was happening behind the scenes, leading to anxious rumors and worried whispers floating around the gym. While most people were too cautious to get near Dylan, one brave man decided to step forward and help Dylan. Unfortunately, as he tried to help Dylan get up to his feet, Dylan accidentally scratched him on the back. The young man recoiled and dropped Dylan to the ground as a result.

As other people began to help Dylan, the injured man stepped off to the side to tend to his wound. He felt unusually warm as he finished putting on a bandage. He didn’t think much of it and ignored it but soon found himself sweating bullets as he rejoined the group. It got to the point that he needed to take a seat to try to cool off, but it was no use. He soon joined Dylan on the floor, writhing in pain due to contracting the MM gene.

At this point, everyone in the gym had gathered around the two men. The crowd stood back as they bore witness to yet another transformation. They watched in bewilderment as the short man rapidly grew in height. He groaned and gasped in anguish as his limbs stretched out. His torso grew and widened until he had the body of a tall bear. He pawed at the growing tent in his sweats as he thrashed around the floor, massaging his manhood as hormones continued pumping throughout his body. Within minutes, the infected man had gone from a stout 5’4 to a big, burly 6’4.

Although the afflicted man already had a healthy spattering of trimmed body hair, the MM gene forced his hair to grow to what was genetically possible. His body hair grew out beyond what Geo experienced. From his chest and belly to his legs and arms, every hair follicle grew longer and thicker, leaving him a pelt of curly body hair. His facial hair, in particular, grew out the most. His mustache grew longer and longer until it practically covered his mouth! His beard became bushy and unruly with coarse black hair as it reached his chest. All the while, the hair on the top of his head fell out one by one until he had a shiny bald head. He became an unrecognizable version of himself thanks to the MM gene. Once his transformation was over, he sat up and let out a bellowing belch that echoed throughout the gym. 

“Mrmph… Feels sooooo good…”

The crowd of witnesses backed away from the two transformed men. The two men turned to the crowd and smiled. A cold, ominous air filled the atmosphere. A few intuitive individuals saw the writing on the wall and left before shit hit the fan while the majority stayed behind, anxious and confused at what was going on. A few moments filled with tense silence passed, only for it to be broken when Evan came charging in from the men’s locker room and locked lips with the closest man. Almost as if on signal, Dylan and the burly bear joined Evan’s rampage and lashed out, too.

Pandemonium broke out as everyone made a mad dash for the exit. It was like a zombie attack as Evan and the other transformed men attacked every healthy man they could get their hands on. The unfortunate victims contracted the MM gene. Once infected, they, too, succumbed to genetic rearrangements. Some grew insanely muscular, and others became incredibly overweight. Hair was grown and lost; skin colors changed, and every physical feature rearranged until they were completely unrecognizable. All those transformed men wanted nothing more than to kiss, fuck, and spread their seed to as many people as possible until their hyped-up urges were satiated. 

“Shit’s getting crazy out here…” Geo whispered to himself. He poked his head out of the locker room and saw the chaos he unwittingly caused. He wanted nothing to do with the madness and ran out of the gym as fast as he could, though the infected men paid him no attention as he was already one of them. Police were beginning to arrive on the scene as Geo drove away with only one thought: his dinner date with his best friend and crush, Evan. 

Though unfortunately for him, the Evan he knew and loved was long gone. It would only be a matter of time before Geo forgot all about Evan, and his body gradually returned to its original state after the MM gene returned to a state of dormacy.

At least, until the next time Geo or some other carrier falls in love.

***

PUBLIC STATEMENT ISSUED BY THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE

Good evening.

As you may have already heard, a horrific incident has occurred at one of our local gyms. Dozens of men went on a rampage. It took several hours and almost all of our manpower, but our police department has successfully arrested all of the sexually rabid men and have placed them in custody. 

Security camera footage shows that all of these men were physically transformed before attacking. After an initial investigation, medical experts suspect that a rare genetic disorder called the Metamorphosis gene is responsible. Unfortunately, while there were no casualties, some of our own brave policemen were affected by the viral outbreak and were transformed themselves.

Two big questions remain tonight: how did a genetic disorder manage to spread like a virus, and how did these men contract this previously unheard of disorder? The arrested men were questioned about the events that led to this mass riot. None have been able to provide any concrete information. None of them seem to recognize their former identities, citing amnesia and severe migraines as the cause. 

Patient 0 has yet to be found. An active investigation continues as research efforts for a potential cure to the Metamorphosis gene’s effects continue. 

END OF STATEMENT

Beau Of The Ball

Forced to spend the night in a town he conceptualizes as worlds beneath him, Brock is drawn to the local mechanic by something more powerful than desire. Try as he might to flee he's becoming more of a community member by the second.

Business busybody into something of a loyal country handyman! Quite the doozy, Hope y'all enjoy! -Occam

Someone had to make the trek to Austin and Brock figured biting that bullet for the team would pay dividends down the line. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why on god’s green earth he had to physically drive there though. Carbon footprints be damned! Starting out he didn’t quite mind the idea, getting paid his rate to just drive is not too bad a deal, but as the hours rolled past it began to lose its novelty. Worse yet, when he crossed the border into Texas he found his car beginning to make a slightly concerning clunking sound. 

Pursing his lips he briefly wonders what could possibly be making that sound in his electric car. Brock swiftly comes to the limits of his car knowledge and throws in the towel. Not wanting to be stuck in the middle of nowhere Texas however, he keeps pedal to the medal and continues speeding towards the capital. Flying into some podunk town called Smoketree, Brock rolls his eyes at their droll cookie cutter town square. They have banners up for some sure to be trite festival happening in the square this weekend that Brock can’t help but laugh at. He struggles to imagine a single thing worth seeing in this backwater redneck speck.

Nearing the edge of town he notices an acrid scent in the air and soon after his vision is fully clouded by smoke pouring from his hood. Memories of scrolling past articles of electric vehicles blowing up he swerves into the shoulder and jumps into the grass with speed he hasn’t neared in years. Covering his ears and damning his boss for sending him into this fresh hell, Brock awaits some dramatic explosion. Instead his car simply continues idling forward a few feet before coming to a stop as it scratches against the guardrail. Something under the hood shudders and the smoke, initially emblematic of a wildfire, quickly pales into steam before slowing to a stop altogether.

Brock scratches his head in confusion, grimacing at the idea of making a trek into the town he had mercilessly mocked to himself. Unhappy about the prospect of asking hicks for help and, feeling how he does about the South, slightly anxious about wandering around a place sure to be less than welcoming, Brock crosses his fingers and makes to grab his phone from the car. Plugged into the charger he finds it dead, potentially short-circuited from whatever caused his car’s failure. “Fuck!” He tosses it into the backseat and storms away from the wreckage, “God damnit!” Ruffling his own hair he struggles through some breathing exercises while struggling to plan some flight from this god for nothing country wasteland.

Soon enough there is the rumble of an approaching truck. It’s followed by the whistle of a driver, “Whooey! Yew sure got yerself into a pickle there young man! Here lemme see if it’s sumthin’ I can give ya a hand with!” The massive truck pulls ahead of Brock’s burned out husk. Ever hesitant about interacting with bumpkins, the executive quickly goes into detective mode. Sure, the man is offering a helping hand but you never know with these small town folks. Seeing a trucker’s union bumper sticker on the vehicle he feels the smallest pang of optimism. Shifting to look at the man himself as he hops down from his raised truck, Brock quickly drills himself to not be outwardly judgemental to him or the shitty town he must surely come from.

The older man sidles over, squinting his eyes as he looks at the busted car while fanning the air as he smells the residual chemical scent in the air. Brock grimaces as the overall-clad man reaches out a hand with a wide smile, “Names Arthur Rhoades!” Patience already tested by the pleasantries while he’s already teetered past the edge of disaster, Brock keeps his disgust at the man’s hand just hidden as he offers his own. He flinches at the strength with which the man shakes his hand and after a pregnant pause offers his own name, “Ah! Oh, I’m Brock. Thank you for the assistance, sir. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about electric cars would you?”

Arthur whistles again and narrows his eyes at Brock’s ride, “I myself am not mucha a mechanic, but my son Junior sure knows his way around ‘m. Howsabout we get yer ride towed on back to our place and see what he can do in the mornin’?” Brock bites his lip and quickly sifts through a handful of answers about how he’d rather die before spending a night in a place where cows outnumber people, but looking back at the small trail of steam still rising from what used to be his car, he sighs and thanks the man for his kindness, “I appreciate the offer sir. I’m sure you can tell I’m quite the city boy, as it were, and would more than make it worth your while.” 

He laughs, patting Brock on the back, “Yer not wrong there boy! Can almost smell it on ya hah! But don’t you worry ‘bout payin’ me nuthin. ‘S the least I can do, host ya for the night. Who knows maybe you’ll like it s’much you decide to stay! Hah hah!” Brock laughs as well, hard enough that Arthur can probably feel the disrespect, though he certainly doesn’t show it. Before ushering Brock into his truck the older man turns and give one last look at the car and does a double take. “You said that was ‘lectric boy?” Brock tilts his head impatiently and nods, trying to ignore another passing thought of denigration that the yokel probably hasn’t seen one before.

His eyes follow the man as he walks up to the side and Brock’s face reddens with embarrassment as he sees Arthur open a fuel door. He stammers over himself swearing up and down that his car is absolutely electric. Brock almost hyperventilates as he runs the numbers in his head and begins to question his own mind. Seeing the man who was already on edge start visibly questioning everything Arthur rushes to comfort, “Must just be a plug-in hybrid right boy? Maybe she’s just needin’ some fuel in the tank if’n youve only only been chargin’ her up?” Brock slowly nods, “Y- yeah it must just be a hybrid.” Arthur ushers the slightly shellshocked suit up into his truck, “Easy fix then I’m sure, now let’s get ya t’ somewhere ya can lie yer head.” He quickly calls his son to tow the car to their place and he starts his truck.

Setting out, Brock tries to not let it bother him as Arthur drives the opposite direction from Austin. Heading back through the town square he looses a heavy sigh and Arthur immediately tries to lighten his spirits, unaware what a torpedo shot his first question will be to the man’s psyche. “So what brings ya to town youngin? Don’t get many new folks round these days?” Relieved at the chance to just be honest Brock quickly replies, “Ah, I was just passing through for work.” Mind back to work he sinks even lower in his seat thinking of how he’s guaranteed to be chewed out after being a no-show at the conference, no matter the circumstances. He’ll just need to let someone know when he gets to Arthur’s, surely they’re not so barbaric as to not have internet. Turning back to the driver he realizes that Arthur has continued talking, presumably about whatever nonsense he thinks their shitty little town has to offer.

Saving face he speaks up, “Ah! So sorry sir, I was uhm. I was thinking about work and totally missed what you said.” Arthur smiles with an empathetic kindness and pats Brock on the leg, “No worries, no worries lad. I’m sure Junior’ll get ya back on the road early in the morn. Sportin’ lad he is! Oh! I hope ya don’t mind but we only got the two rooms, so either you’ll share with Art or ‘s the couch for ya.” His ears perk up at the idea of sharing the room with a man described as ‘sporting.’ Judgmental of hicks he may be, but Brock is certainly not immune to the charm of a rough around the edges mechanic. The prospect is so alluring he almost forgets that the man’s almost guaranteed to be straight, in which case the couch could not be more promising.

About fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of town Arthur turns down a long driveway and into quite the idyllic homestead. Realizing he’s left all his luggage in his abandoned vehicle Brock struggles not to chew a hole in the side of his cheek as he writes an explanation for his workplace in his head. He tries to keep appearances as he gets a brief tour of his gracious hosts, meeting Arthur’s wife and promptly complimenting her efforts on decorating the cabin, earning him a peck on the cheek. He tries to settle his nerves and sits on the couch that’s almost guaranteed to be sleeping on tonight as three of them chat about the town. Inside and away from the car it’s a good deal easier for Brock to pretend that he’s not stuck here without recourse, he almost doesn’t mind the time wasted here.

Though as the couple keep talking up the festival Brock can’t help but be reminded of how little he cares for the rurality of it all. The idea of this shoddy little community having a celebration that appeals to him at all is simply beyond his imagination. “Country life ain’t as bad as ya think there Brock! I’m tellin’ ya, take it slow a few days and you’ll be a changed man! Some things are better than the hustle ‘n bustle!” Brock forces a smile and avoids rolling his eyes as he laughs off the appeals, “Oh I’m sure sir, I’m sure. It’s just so,” he pauses as he struggles to find any good way to say it is a life full of nothing. Before finding an insult eloquent enough to not be insulting Arthur’s wife Martha speaks up. Waving her husband off, she apologizes to their guest, “Oh you don’t let him get to ya dear. He’s just all riled up for the shindig y’know.” How could he not the number of times they’ve mentioned it

Before he’s able to respond, the door slams open and in walks a man that forces Brock’s ajar in a pavlovian response. The cowboy’s almost deliberately styled to make Brock drool, spinning the keys to a tow truck around his pinky. He isn’t sure if his being stuck in this town is making him more attracted to rednecks or what, but Brock can’t help but follow the man striding in like a moth to a bug zapper. He sees the man's lips move to say “Who’s the twink,” though thankfully his attention is so focused on ogling the man, his ears can’t quite hear him, or perhaps he’d have lost it then and there. Turning to Arthur as he gives the lowdown Brock shakes off the stupor and offers forth a shaky hand to who must be none other than Arthur Rhoades Junior.

The man smirks and wipes his hand on his jeans before walking up to and squaring up against Brock. Upturning his chin to nod and stare, taking all there is to see of the city boy. His eyes flicker across every aspect of his being, “Brock eh? Names Art.” His stare turns to Brock’s eyes, not so much making direct eye contact but staring through the visitor. His lips are pursed in appraisal and then he reaches out and takes the outstretched hand, his palm completely enveloping Brock’s before he squeezes. Not so hard as to display his brutish masculinity, but powerfully firm. One that clearly shows who is in charge here. It’s a brief moment, but it irrevocably asserts to Brock that he needs more.

Art’s pursed lips straighten into an expressionless straight line as his eyes shift from intense inspection to bemused invitation before he heads upstairs to his room. Martha and Arthur Sr. glance at each other in some charged way that Brock wouldn’t be able to make out even if his attention wasn’t focused on the hand that Art grasped, still feeling the pressure from being held. Arthur’s voice again cuts through Brock’s bewilderment as he prepares to retire for the night himself, “Well it’s gettin’ dark early here so I’m fixin’ to head to bed. Got blankets in the closet yonder if yer lookin’ to sleep down here in the cold livin’ room. If yer thinkin’ about Art’s room or maybe even seein’ if he’ll take the couch ya probably wanna do so soon, big day tomorrow with the shindig ‘n all!” He walks over to Brock to pat him on the shoulder as the guest tries not to interpret the emphasis Arthur had on how cold the living room was. “We’ll see ya in the mornin’ youngin. Hope ya can have a good rest under our roof.”

Martha walks up and offers him some of Art’s old clothes to sleep in since his luggage is away, “Might be a little big on ya love.” Brock thanks her and she heads off with her husband. Left alone in the living room Brock can’t help but focus on the steps in the room above him, he hesitates at the foot of the staircase. Anxiety about talking with the beyond daunting man should well hold him back from action. In any normal case it would. As the seconds pass though, the air around him grows colder and everything in his body begs for the warmth that he only had the smallest touch of. Clenching his hand he pushes down his fears and ignores the couch he had all but resigned himself to as he walks up the creaky stairs.

Before he even reaches the top, the door to Art’s bedroom opens. Light from inside illuminates the landing, and with it flows the woody, musky scent within. Art’s massive form cuts through the beams as he moves to lean on the door frame, dressed down into a strained wife-beater with one arm upraised to expose his pit as an yet another invitation. He leers down the stairs at Brock just long enough to ensure he’s coming before turning back to strip further. Brock stares at his powerful ass as he almost falls over himself climbing the rest of the way into the room.

As soon as he enters the door closes behind him and Art speaks up, his rough voice rumbling sends a shiver down Brock’s spine, “Wha’ chu want city boy. Might think ya got my parent ‘round yer finger but you ain’t got me fooled.” The executive shakes his head in surprise before quickly backing into the shut door, stammering as he tries to find some foothold. “Might not hear every little thought goin’ on in yer head but I can tell what yer thinkin’.” He slowly approaches Brock, slamming a arm above him on the door as the smaller man just gets his hand on the handle. “Ya think yer better than us, ‘s that it? ‘S not all though huh.” He in close to Brock’s ear, his thick mustache rubbing against the man’s cheek, inflaming his passion all over again as it takes everything in his mind and body not to turn to jelly, “can’t right help yerself huh.”

His mouth curls into a grin as he grips Brock’s face, his hand easily covering most of Brock’s head. “Yer fuckin’ obsessed with me runt.” He pulls him into a rough kiss that could have gone on for minutes or years with next to no input from Brock as his body fights to not slide to the floor, any thoughts behind his eyes vacate as no higher function could survive the pure lust taking over. Before he knows it he’s thrown onto the bed like a ragdoll. Brock sees nothing but stars as the passion comes to a head, escalating beyond his understanding. Every inch of his from cries with sensitivity and blares with pleasure. He feels spit or cum splatter across his form, pain and pleasure become one in ecstasy as he is nothing but a sack of nerves for Art to play with.

Once the mechanic is done with him he feels something tight secured on his head and hears the man grunt out in a manner nearing affection, “See ya in the mornin’ pardner.” His dreams are a blur. Rushing through woods on four-wheelers, hunting with Arthur and Junior, home cooked meals made by Martha. He feels the rough hand of Art that he’s so intimately familiar with now in his own, but it feels almost smaller than it should be. He grunts in his sleep and in the realm of dream it sounds deeper to his ears. He looks down at his hands and sees them oil covered, rougher, and impossibly large. He turns his head to see Art smiling at him with a bestial grin. He awakens with a start, face down in Art’s bed sweat, drool, and cum crusted across his form.

“Jesus fuck man!” He hears Art’s snoring come to a stop as the massive man grunts in response. He turns to look at his plaything and Brock sees the same animalistic grin that woke him up grace Art’s face. Brock rolls off the bed and shock and feels his own face, stained with stubble that should have taken nearly a month to grow before their night together. He wrenches the camo hat off his head and hurls it against the wall, “What’d you do ta me ya-” he grasps at his throat, feeling the same stubble has inched down his neck. He feels an adam’s apple three times larger than what he went to sleep with bounce as he swallows in fear, “Ya- you monster!”

Art rolls over, keeping the same smile on as he looks down on the man once more, “Weren’t complainin’ last night bud.” Brock’s eyes follow him as he gets up to stretch, feeling his cock immediately harden as he traces the mechanic’s powerful curves, his face reddens with rage at himself. He sees Art scratch his ass and pits as he feels what must be similar itches rise across his own body, fearful of any further inspection he stands and stamps his feet, “Now you listen here, Bud. I want out of this town, now. If ya don’t- ugh. If you don’t take me to my car now I’ll-” Rolling his eyes Art puts a finger to Brock’s mouth to shut him up and he’s powerless to do anything but obey, “Now listen here, Breau-” 

Art continues speaking but Brock is unable to listen after Art says the name. Breau, it sends a powerful shiver down his spine. It’s like Art hit a reset button on the man. Judging by the blank eyes it’s clear he’s not listening so Art simply turns away and grabs some clothes, sniffing them to see if they’re dirty before just shrugging and throwing them on anyway. He grabs a stained shirt and some shorts and throws the clearly stained outfit at Breau, aiming right for the eyes glazed over. Knocked over with the force he simply lies back and inhales and bathes in the dried musk on the dirty laundry. Feeling his cock grow large enough to strain his shorts he moans and the unfamiliar sound brings him back to his senses, “wha- now gahd-damnit!”

Art laughs as he hears Breau struggle with the new dialect on his tongue, feeling his own heart rate quicken at the idea that he’ll continue to fight against it, not knowing the foregone conclusion. He sees the man’s hands hover near his bulging cock barely holding back from masturbating then and there as it pulses with his heartbeat, clearly exposing pubes darker and thicker than the city boy has ever let them get to before. The mechanic sprays a cloud of axe in the air and walks through it before heading out the door, calling back to Breau, “Now you throw sumthin’ on before headin’ down. Don’ chu be indecent to yer hosts Breau.”

Breau clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the new power he feels surging in his neck, paralleling just about everywhere else on his form. He looks for his suit hoping to just throw that on but his clothes are nowhere to be found, he can’t tell if it’s anxiety or pleasurable anticipation prickling under his skin as he thinks about wearing Art’s clothes. Looking down to see muscles bulging under his skin with every movement his balls pulse and he realizes he needs to cover up now. He goes through Art’s room trying to find the cleanest outfit he can muster before following the man downstairs.

Racing down the stairs he’s just in time to see Art hugging his mother goodbye, something uncomfortable flutters in chest and Breau grumbles under his breath low enough to not hear an accent steep every expletive. Arthur makes his way over to his guest and throws his arms around him, “Well seein’ as my boy’ll get yer car fixed up in no time this’s more than likely goodbye, son! Hope ya didn’t mind our ‘ccomidations too bad. Hope ta see ya again some day y’hear!” Breau is surprised at how overly familiar the man’s hug is, it should be awkward enough to make him squirm out of his skin but it’s like he’s been hugged by the man hundreds of times. He doesn’t even think about the fact that Art’s father hasn’t commented on his clearly changed appearance as he instead goes to hug the man back, pleasantries staining his tongue alongside the accent, “No trouble at all, Art ‘n I had a great time.” Blushing as the memories of their steamy session burn to the front of his mind his voice cracks, “Uhhh, thank ya for yer hospitality Da- er, sir.”

Arthur pats him on the back and nods, wiping his own mustache as he sets for the door, “Well see you boys later, me ‘n the missus are off to get ready for the jamboree tonight!” Martha does a little excited dance at the door before waving off their guest as well, “Besta luck with yer car now Breau!” His head twitches as Art’s mom uses the name he only just realized he has been identifying with since Art first said it. Art closes the door behind them and goes to grab a beer from the fridge. Breau quickly throws his body at the mechanic to stop him, knocking the beer out of his hand, “Now what’re ya doin’ Ugh! What do you think you’re doing Arthur Rhoades!” Grimacing at his can on the floor and the man calling him by his full name he just sighs and looks Breau up and down, “Still think yer gettin’ outta dodge do ya? Look at yerself.”

Breau struggles to ignore his words as he feels abs and a chest that have never been begin to fill a tank top that never should have fit him. “Where’re- are your keys, you hick.” Art’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the fight left in the man and whistles as he picks up his beer and promptly shotguns it, releasing a large burp before pointing at his truck’s keys. “You wouldn’t mind drivin’ now would ya?” Breau grunts and pulls at Art’s shirt as he goes for another beer, the large man smirks at the ease with which Breau pulls his massive form, eying the larger hands and veins pulsing along his thin arms as they gather all the strength with him.

Breau hops into the driver’s seat of the tow truck with ease and familiarity he shouldn’t have and starts the engine. Swiftly, the pair are off down the road before Breau realizes that he’s driving stick, his eyes grow as wide as Art’s smirk at the realization, “Yer a natural at this Breau, jus’ give in. It’ll be so much easier.” One of his rough fingers traces a bulging vein on Brock’s arm, “‘Sides, ya can’t tell me last night wasn’t the best fuck of yer life.” Breau struggles to tune out the man’s words but the still growing bulge in his pants makes it clear that his mind is flashing back to the pleasure beyond pleasure he enjoyed, perhaps for the best, lest he realize he’s driving to Art’s shop with memories he shouldn’t have.

Approaching the shack he sees parts strewn about the yard and a few hunks of junk that must be passion projects parked in a line. He quickly shuts off the truck and tosses the keys at Art before storming out of the vehicle and looking for his car, “What’d you fuckin’ do with by ride bitch?” Art slides out of the truck and meanders up to the man, chin upraised he grimaces at Breau’s rage, “Y’know I’m thinkin’ you should mind yer tongue. Yer talkin’ like someone who's about a foot taller ‘n ya.” Suddenly everything within Breau comes to a boil, he rushes at Art. 

In response the mechanic hoists him into the air by the neck of his wife-beater. He makes direct eye contact and both men feel the tension between them, as well as that in their pants before Breau forces his feet back to the ground. His whole body lengthens over a foot in height in over a second and his arms try to grab at the larger man. The smug grin of a winner returns to Art’s face as he opts to just push Breau away with his leg, keeping hold of his shirt as it tears off him. He slides into the dirt and it sticks to his sweaty back as he convulses with a level of anger and energy he’s never had to deal with before, surely a side effect of the massive balls bulging through his shorts. Art laughs at the man struggling as he pushes himself up, his body vibrating with a desire to enact violence.

Torn between impulses of fucking and fighting Breau can’t control himself in the slightest. His arms desire, lust, need to swing, to hold, to scratch at the man who is just leering at him with a confidence unfounded. He charges again but trips over his longer legs and Art calmly steps out of the way. Seeing red he stumbles back to his feet and charges once more, exhaling through his nose like a bull. This time Art catches him flat out, stumbling back a step but still maintaining complete control of the man. The smile disappears from his face as he leans down to whisper, “Now, clearly yer dealin’ with new hormones coursin’ through ya, but if yer gonna act like an animal we might need to have a change a plans hm?”

Breau’s eyes indeed flicker around like he’s an animal in his trap. Everything in his mind cries out to fight, to flee, to fuck with not a single higher function speaking up. Unable to process thoughts let alone produce words Breau takes heaving breaths as his chest tries to expand, feeling his sweaty body against Art’s he calms down and his mind fights against the lust and anger driving him, “What, what do ya want with me.” Art turns Breau to a small outdoor gym he has set out in between some workbenches and lets him go jutting at the area with his head, “Go work off some of yer energy ‘n get back to me. ‘N we’ll see ‘bout yer car.” Immediately feeling feels every muscle fiber in his being cry out at the challenge, the desire to be even more powerful sends him barrelling to the meager set up.

Art goes to a fridge in the shop and grabs another beer as he watches Breau mindlessly exercise Smirking as he imagines the mileage he’ll get out of every expanding muscle in the man. Picturing pecs as large as his own and biceps that might even be able to hold him down one day. He scratches at his stomach as he looks around the yard trying to remember which car even was the man’s. Turning back to see pounds of muscle piling onto the man he wonders if he’ll even remember that he was some pansy executive by the time he’s done working out his anger. Judging by the expression growing even duller with each rep he’s not even sure the man will remember his own name.

Breau isn’t sure if he’s done two sets or thousands, everything within him burns with years of pleasurable soreness. He feels his cock bulge through his shorts as each rep drives him even deeper into bliss. Pre stains his briefs and sweat drips so fully across his form it’s like he’s in a rainstorm. The exercises drive him so deep into mindlessness he indeed forgets his anger, his balls instead cry out for release that he knows only Art can bring him. Art Rhoades, he looks up to see the man and sucks in the drool that has apparently been streaming out of his mouth this whole time.

He saunters over with a new gait, not used to the larger cock swinging between his legs, and speaks up to the man, “Done gettin’ ripped. Can ya fix my car now.” His head twitches to the side as he feels something is off about the way he’s speaking, the idea graces his mind that his voice just sounds even deeper which turns him on even further. Ignoring the question, Art tosses him a beer and gets to his feet with a groan, beckoning Breau follow him into the yard. Absolutely ravished having grown exponentially in every regard he finishes the beer in seconds before grabbing himself two more from the fridge, burping as he trails the man he can now only think of as a ticket to endless pleasure.

“You remember which one of these beauts was yers Breau?” The theoretical executive looks across the yard, littering the empty cans behind himself as he rolls his eyes at the dumb question, obviously it’s uh. He squints as he struggles to even find a car, it was a hybrid right? His face twitches at the idea, as if he’d drive some pussy shit like that. Nah obviously he must be drivin’ the biggest tanker here yeah? He scratches his ass and Art just smirks as he walks up to a large truck missing a tire, and points to it, his mouth lolling open as is its default state. Art bites his tongue to prevent from bursting into laughter at the idea of that puny man hopping up into that rig. Keeping it under wraps he saunters over and feeling generous gives the man one final out, “You sure about that hun?”

Questioned, the conviction in Breau’s chest only grows as he puffs up his chest with pride. He checks the back seat and smirks as he sees a bag filled with his belongings, tearing it open hoping to find a laptop for reasons that escape him; he instead finds a toolkit, some lube, and old work clothes. Still, each object in the bag is unquestionably his. He tosses the bag at Art with a smirk, “Uhhh, obviously I know my own truck ya fucker, tryin’ get me all confused like!” Art laughs it off as he begins his victory lap. The whole thing began as some karmic payback and all but fuck, if he ain’t excited at the prospect of having someone on his level to fuck around with. Though he bites his tongue as deep in his chest he desires something more meaningful than that.

Art tosses the bag to the ground and looks over at the missing tire and scoffs at the oaf, “Now Breau, surely ya don’ need my help puttin’ a tire back on yer truck?” Breau’s face reddens with embarrassment at the idea and he pushes back at the man now only slightly larger than him. His pride challenged, he quickly runs over to a workbench to grab a tire wrench, Art watches new muscle and fat bounce on the man’s body as his whole form jiggles with power, before moving to wheel over a tire. Breau stumbles running back as his mind begins to fill with the proprietary knowledge of mechanics that any handyman should have, grease stains his shorts and oil his hands as he forgets corporate boardrooms that had already fallen by the wayside.

In no time at all he’s under the truck, shooting off the flat with a haste and finding another problem to fix while he’s under there. Every word out of his mouth drips with an accent deeper than any of the Rhoades’ “I knew t’wasn’t just a tire yew ass! Mah whole strut’s fucked up!” Art watches as the man appraises and immediately sets to fixing the issues found, smirking as the man scratches his exposed pubes in between drilling and sniffs at the forest of hair in his pits that somehow overpowers the smell of metal and motor oil in the air.

Art offers a helping hand that the man in his confidence didn’t ask for and the pair quickly get the truck up and running with ease. They work like they’ve done so for at least a decade, and as sweat runs down one of them onto the other their minds shift to make it clear they have. The job said and done Breau quickly turns his mind to another car on the lot and Art shrugs as they start hammering away at another job that has long been left on the back burner. Working the day away, eventually Art has to step in and convince his new partner to throw in the towel.

The sunset’s beginning to crest over the horizon and Art gets a text from his folks asking when the pair are to make their way over to the festival. Art is uncharacteristically nervous as he looks to Breau, fearful of flubbing so close to the finish line. He clears his throat to calm his voice, lest there be a quiver, “‘S a shame yer not gonna be able to make it to the festival tonight eh Beau.” The oiled up man shakes as he hears the name, his name, who he is, shift one final time. The itch of his pubes races up his abs as he nears the virility, the power, of his partner.

The strength and muscle of the man  who forced him against the wall, ragdolled him onto the bed, hoisted him into the air, bursts into his own arms as there's the sound of a fabric tearing, bones cracking, in the air. His bulge expanding to a size that his underwear could never hide, he smirks at the idea that he’d ever wear them anyway. Always been more of a commando guy. Every muscle in his body vibrates with energy as he surges even larger, hair rapidly covers his pits before spreading beyond them as his beard curls even thicker. Sweat drips down his body, wetting his pants and sending an itch down his ass that makes it clear that no inch is spared from his new hirsute masculinity. He grunts as the idea of missing the festival fills him with a greater sadness than he’s ever felt before, “Now why’d I ever go ‘n do a thing like that there Art.”

Suddenly a devilish smirk forces itself onto Beau’s face as his mind changes from affection and back to a lust uncontrollable as his balls surge even larger and he again charges at Art. This time tinged with no existential anger as he knocks the man to the floor. Art smirks as he feels himself pinned to the ground and the two begin wrestling in the dirt, their powerful bodies in a dead heat as they frot in the middle of his lot. Their messy beards wet with spit as they engage in an even sloppier session than they had the previous night, with each thrust Art finds more power within Beau than he has felt from even the most masculine fuck he’s enjoyed previously. 

sees the look in Beau’s eyes he’s filled with confidence, and he’s splattered with cum. After hearing both their phones ring the two men call off their heated session and quickly struggle to seem like they weren’t in the middle of having marathon sex as they answer to hear both of Art’s parents. Beau doesn’t stop to realize his phone is again functioning, and also a far older generation than the one he once preferred. After all he doesn’t need all that fancy shit to get his job done anyway. The two hop in Beau’s recently repaired truck and race to the Rhoades’ residence, Art is shocked to find a full size cabin now built next door to his parent’s house before he sees Beau saunter into it with a confidence and pride that answers all of his questions.

After a moment he races to follow the man, his other half inside and is struck with his new life. He assumed he was holding all the cards but clearly that’s not the case. Looking down at his own body he finds he is not without his own changes, having similarly grown in virility he chides himself for thinking with his balls so much before he is again chided by the man stepping down the stairs. “Didja not hear yer mom on the phone Art! Get fuckin’ ready so we can get down there before yer folks blow a gasket!” 

Art takes the little moment he can to observe all the new perfections of his apparent life. He stares at Beau’s sculpted chest, the pattern of perfect hair trailing down his body like fur. Massive thighs filling jeans to their max and a bulge that tells everyone he’s a stud in between them. Art blushes as he rushes into their shared bedroom, unaware as his step grows heavier with every footfall, his own chest straining the tank that was only just hanging in there. He quickly puts on an outfit matching Beau, almost forgetting to throw back on his silicon wedding band before racing back into the living room and draping himself around his husband’s shoulders.

Beau acknowledges him with a grunt and juts his chin towards the door. The two head off towards the city center, Beau’s head filled with affection for the man to his left and for the town of folks around him. Art is blissfully unaware of the two way street that clearly dulled some of his own edges as the pair step out into the festival and begin throwing down in a line dance, as they do every year. Beau moves with precision and joy as he celebrates his favorite place and favorite people. Can of beer raised high as he shows off to a crowd adoring.

Constantly stealing glances of each other the husbands are uncaring as everyone in the town square also has their eyes on the pair, such a perfect match it’s no wonder they are the celebrities of the little town. Martha and Arthur Sr. watch blissfully, beyond overjoyed that their son has finally found a man for himself, and the city sighs as the two men take turns showing off at every turn. Beacons of Smoketree pride and Southern hospitality in only the best of ways. Ever striving to better themselves and their town and always trying to one up their other half.

A Full Dose of Country

Cody was exhausted. He was a star on the wrestling team at his university, but over winter break he’d been conscripted to be a helping hand on his uncle’s farm out in central Texas. After arguing for weeks with his very angry mother over the phone he’d submitted to spending his month off on the ranch. His mom had said that his uncle really needed the help for the season, and to put that athletic body of his to use. Cody rolled his eyes at that; he needed to be training for the next season. Instead he’d spent the past two weeks in the middle of nowhere helping out his uncle Shane, far from his friends and anything fun. Every day was long and exhausting. Cody thought he was in excellent shape but the long hours and excessive manual labor had started to wear on him quickly.

After putting some equipment away in the shed Cody trudged his way back into the small house, finding Shane slouched on the couch in front of the TV. He craned his neck around and gave Cody a quick up and down. 

“Damn son, you look rough today! You better get in bed early, we’ve got a hell of a task tomorrow,” he said. Cody’s shoulders slumped at the news.

“What could possibly be worse than what you’ve had me doing already?” He snapped. Shane was unfazed at the attitude.

“There’s some new bovine flu or something goin’ round. Heard it on the news the other day. I ordered some shots for the cattle to keep ‘em healthy, and I need you to help me get them all handled. Shouldn’t be a challenge for a hot shot like you right?” He snorted. Cody gave him a solemn look.

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I’m just messing with ya, y’know that,” Shane said with more sincerity. “Go on and get some sleep now boy,” he said as he shooed Cody off to his room.

Cody made his way down the dimly lit hallway to the small room he’d been staying in. He wasn’t the neatest guy on the planet but the state of his room was awful, but he’d been run too ragged to care. He pulled off his jeans and shirt and fell onto the bed, and within minutes he was out cold. 

The morning came abruptly with a banging on his door.

“Cody! Get dressed and out here we gotta start this operation early if we wanna finish today!” 

His uncle’s slightly muffled voice was still too loud for whatever hour it was. He threw on his hoodie and jeans from yesterday before making his way outside. The darkness was just starting to give way to dawn as he followed his uncle’s silhouette out towards the barn. The morning breeze was frigid, blowing through his hoodie like it was nothing. Cody shivered as he caught up to his uncle, who was setting up the chute for restraining the cattle. He stood there staring, in disbelief at what he was doing. His friends were partying in Cancun and he was up at 5 am herding cows?

“Well don’t just stand there, help me secure the pens!” His uncle’s bellowing voice snapped him out of his daze. Cody had unfortunately spent enough time on the ranch already to know what to do, and he got to work moving fences and prepping the area. By the time the sun had finally risen above the horizon they were ready. 

“Alright, now you’re gonna herd the cows in here one at a time, I’ll catch them in the chute, hit them with the needle gun, and let ‘em out into that second pen. Simple enough right?” Shane said, again with too much energy.

“Yea, sounds good.” Cody huffed, already feeling fatigued. He jogged back outside to start herding some of the cattle into the pens. He was surprised at how smoothly the entire operation was, within an hour they’d processed a dozen cattle. The problem now was getting the bigger ones in. Cody wasn’t normally afraid of a longhorn but in this situation he was tense, to put it lightly. Keeping his distance as much as possible, he slowly ushered the bull towards his uncle. As they neared their setup he had to get closer and more forceful, before finally spooking the animal into running into the chute. Shane slammed down the gates, holding the frantic bull inside the shaking apparatus.

“Cody!” Shane yelled over the racket, “Come hold this down so I can get a good shot!”

Cody hopped the fence and darted over to his uncle, holding the lever down against a raging bull. Shane was right next to him fiddling with the needle gun to refill it.

“Damn thing always jams at the worst times I swear…” he muttered before finally loading it properly. He squeezed up next to Cody to get close to the animal’s neck and leaned in to administer the shot. In that instant, the bull thrashed. Cody saw the massive horns swinging his direction and panicked, jerking to the side away from the head, directly into his uncle. They both toppled to the ground, and Cody felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The bull knocked open the gates with no one to hold them down and dashed out into the pasture.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said as he climbed to his feet, “You alright Cody?”

“Yea… I think so,” Cody mumbled as he stood up, feeling a pulsing pain in his gut. He lifted his shirt to find a small pinprick on his stomach surrounded by a reddened area.

“Aw shit, I must’ve hit you with the gun when we fell.” He walked over to Cody and kneeled down to look closely. “It’s a big needle for the cattle is all, you should be fine I think,” he said. Cody felt less than convinced. He scratched at the slightly itchy spot before letting his shirt down.

“C’mon, we’ve got plenty more cows to handle today. None of ‘em should be that aggressive again,” Shane said while inspecting the chute. Cody was a little shocked at how nonchalant his uncle was about what just happened. Cody headed back out to the pens to continue his job, but the slight itching on his stomach kept his mind divided. Surely nothing in a cow vaccine would be dangerous to a human right? They ate the cows in the end anyway, he thought with a slight chuckle.

Eventually the cows' persistent mooing brought them back to the present, and Cody’s thoughts slipped away from the earlier events. The work got his blood pumping, sending the vaccine’s contents all around his body. While the itch on his stomach finally subsided, a growing uncomfortable feeling was arising in his groin. The viral load had reached his balls, and while it was dormant for cows, the same couldn’t be said for Cody. It entered his cells and began making some changes down there. His balls began to swell, first to the size of walnuts before stretching his sack even more, plumping up to the size of large eggs. His newly enlarged testicles began to flood his body with more testosterone than ever before, laced with some bovine hormones.

His cock was the first to respond, twitching as it slowly grew hard, pressing against Cody’s compression underwear. His cock pulsed, head flaring as it stretched out, engorging to his full size of seven inches. Cody reached down to try and relieve some of the pressure, unaware of what was happening. He adjusted the band of his underwear, allowing more space for his cock to grow. And grow it did, pushing well past seven inches. The sensation of his throbbing member against his tight underwear was driving his body wild, even if he was distracted. His cock reached 11 inches, fully visible with a rock hard imprint in his underwear. Cody tried to adjust his growing package through his pants, oblivious to the situation below. As it capped out a glob of precum shot out of the tip, before the entire shaft thickened to a girth he could’ve only imagined before. A steady stream of precum began to flow afterward, creating an ever growing wet spot through his jeans. 

As Cody continued wrangling cattle, the steady stream of hormones from his massive balls continued to spread. An itch reappeared, but this time in his groin. He’d always kept himself clean shaven down there, but a slight shadow had appeared around the base of his cock. Clear cut hairs were starting to crop up again, a wave of short but dark stubble expanding outward. The hairs didn’t remain short for long, as his bush began to regrow with a vengeance. They pushed out of his skin, curling together as new hairs began to fill in between the old. The hairs pushed out longer and longer, weaving into a dense mat. The forest continued to spread, with thick hairs coating his low hanging balls and expanding out onto his thighs. The hairs began crawling up his lengthy shaft, covering the lower half in a furry sheath. Cody again scratched at his crotch, not noticing the dense growth from outside his jeans. As he finished up working for the day, hairs were slowly popping up further and further up, building a trail from his forested bush to his navel. The thick rug was pushing out against his compression underwear, slowly growing thicker as more hairs filled in.

Cody wiped the sweat from his forehead as his uncle was finally putting away the equipment from the day. He was more exhausted than he’d ever felt, and he didn’t believe he’d ever say that after enduring countless grueling wrestling training sessions with his coach. Thinking on them, he found it harder to recall those experiences despite his muscles aching, but he chalked it up to the brutal day he’d had. The sun was already below the horizon by the time they got back to the house. Cody figured he’d take a shower while Shane was throwing some kind of dinner together, and headed back to his room. He pulled off his hoodie and sweat-soaked shirt, revealing the crawling vine of dark hair making its way up his abs.

“What the fuck?” Cody blurted out in shock. He ran his fingers through the wiry curls exposed above his waistline. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and stuck his hand down in his underwear, deep into the lush sweaty forest that’d been absent when he pulled on his pants that morning. His jaw dropped. What the hell was happening here? He pushed his hand farther in only to find his now massive cock, and his eyes went wide. He darted into the bathroom and yanked down his underwear. In the mirror fully exposed was his flaccid nine inch cock, drooped in front of his comically large balls, all buried within the thickest bush he’d ever seen. Cody delicately handled his dangling member, and the slightest touch had it growing hard, leaking precum from the tip. He was stunned, standing there with precum spilling over one hand and the other buried in the thicket of hair.

As he stood there staring, the virus reached his brain. His panicked face slowly morphed into a grin. This was kinda hot, he thought. Who doesn’t love a massive dick, right? Cody began to rub his hands through the thick tangle of hair, feeling the curls catch around his fingers. His cock throbbed as it grew hard, reaching its full size. He grabbed it with his other hand, feeling the softer hairs that were poking out of his shaft. Cody, overcome with pleasure, let himself go. He stroked with one hand and explored his furry groin with the other. Within a minute he was ready to climax, grunting as he shot thick ropes onto the mirror. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, senses returning. He collapsed back onto the toilet behind, taking a moment to catch his breath before cleaning up his mess.

“Cody! Dinner’s on the table!” His uncle shouted from the kitchen. Cleaning would have to wait. Cody stuffed his still partially hard cock back into his tight underwear and threw on the rest of his clothes before heading out. He still had a grin plastered on his face, and Shane noticed.

“What’s got you in good spirits now, boy?”

“Aw nothin’ just proud of a good day’s work” Cody replied, suddenly caught off guard with his manner of speaking. That voice was his but didn’t sound like him, it was almost… country. No, he’d always spoken like that, he was from Texas after all. The smell of the sizzling food on the table grabbed his attention and he swiftly forgot about his concern. He scarfed the meal down, his body subconsciously needing the fuel. He suppressed a large belch before standing up, thanking Shane for the food, and heading back to his bed. Cody stripped off his shirt and jeans before flopping down onto the mattress, exhausted and stuffed. 

As he laid there, twirling his new pubes between his fingers, he let his thoughts drift back to his friends from school off on their vacations. He wasn’t as jealous anymore. In fact, maybe he was on the better end of that deal. All this manual labor was keeping him in shape for the season; getting drunk daily on the beach wouldn’t do that! His cock began to chub up at the thought of him finally putting on the mass to be at the top of his weight class. Precum leaked down his shaft and into his musky forest as Cody drifted off.

Cody woke in a sweat to a familiar banging on his door. He peeled himself off the sheets, looking at the vaguely body shaped sweat pool he’d left. He himself was also soaked. Then the  smell hit him, a musky sweaty stench had filled the room throughout the night. Cody was confused, he’d never sweat like this, not even after his gym sessions, it wasn’t even hot inside the house. He looked down at himself to see drops slowly streaming down his chest and stomach, which had grown slightly more covered with hair. He thoughtlessly scratched at his chin, fingers raking through small bristles that hadn’t been there before. With no time to ponder more he threw on some jeans and a tank top and ran out towards the barn.

Cody and Shane quickly got to work on the day’s tasks, eager to get as much done as possible before the sun got too harsh. Cody found it easier to get into what he was doing, it felt more natural somehow. As he worked up even more of a sweat than he’d woken up with, the combination of virus and testosterone got pumped around his body at an accelerated rate. The bristles on his chin began to poke out a little more; a shadow of stubble spread across his jaw and up onto his cheeks. Cody scratched at the growing stubble, not noticing the difference from his baby smooth physique before.

That smooth skin was quickly becoming a memory, as his upper lip was covered by the same shadow, dark spots turning into short hairs that pushed out longer and longer. The wiry hairs sprouting from his face grew thicker by the minute, new wisps shooting out between the maturing hairs. He’d grown into a scruffier version of himself, the shadow of stubble creeping down his neck as the hairs on his chin, upper lip, and cheeks fluffed out more.

As he worked, Cody’s arms pumped up more than usual and his legs following suit. His already well defined pecs began to feel sore as they pushed out, stretching his tank even more than usual. What had been rolling hills turned into mountains as muscle packed on. The soreness was quickly replaced with a subtle itch; the tendril of thick curls reaching up from his groin began to climb higher. Hairs shot up north of his navel, growing in a line up towards his beefier chest. His collarbone was the first to react to the cocktail of hormones surging inside him. A lone dark hair shot up over the collar of his tank. Another curled out, and then another. Wispy hairs began to crop up along the top of his chest, cresting over the neck of his tank. The beads of sweat covering his chest only seemed to fertilize more growth, matting the hairs to his skin in swirls and spirals of masculinity. Before long a rug had begun to form on his chest, hairs pushing out and puffing up his tank as it struggled against his growing body.

By mid afternoon, they’d finished everything for the day. Cody’s sudden burst of work ethic surprised Shane, who didn’t seem to notice his nephew’s burgeoning beard. Cody could feel the pump in his body, it was sore but he felt electric after working all morning.

“Whew, that went smoother than I ever figured,” Shane laughed and slapped Cody on the back. “Why don’t we enjoy a beer and take the rest of the day off.”

“Can’t say no to that I s’pose,” Cody responded with a smile. The two walked back to the house and settled out on the back porch. Shane grabbed some beers from inside and tossed one to Cody.

“Seems like you’re getting the hang of all this work around here, son. I could use a hand like yours more often!” Shane howled and cracked open his can. 

“Well, y’know, I guess I’m startin’ to enjoy it all a bit. Somethin’ about it out here makes me wanna stay,” Cody said with a heavier accent than even his uncle. Shane smiled back at him. The two chatted with a better rapport than ever as Cody downed his beer, and then another, and then two more.

His stomach gurgled as more hair spread across his stomach, fully burying his abs under a dark coat of hair. The line reached up to his chest widened, small fuzzy hairs spreading out before thickening up. Cody’s sweat covered chest followed suit. In the cleft between his pecs, hairs pressed their way out, spreading outwards as they grew in denser and darker and caught more sweat. What had been light fuzz across the wide expanse of his muscular form was corrupted by testosterone, follicles going into overdrive pushing out thicker darker hairs. The rug spread out around his nipples and upwards, merging with the hairs covering his collarbone as more continued to pop up towards his shoulders and up his neck. 

Cody was in the middle of downing another beer when a rank stench filled his nose. It was familiar, almost like the one from when he’d woken up. He lifted his arm and was greeted with a faceful of powerful body odor; his pits had become ripe and full of hours worth of sweat. He watched as the carefully shaven skin tinted dark as hairs sprouted en masse. It seemed like a waterfall in slow motion, watching the dark hairs pour out of his pit, growing longer and longer as they trapped more sweat in his damp pit. The growth spread, hairs pushing beyond the edges of his pits and growing the forest larger until it blended with the rug on his chest. His other pit itched as the same growth began to take place, a thick tuft of hair erupting. He could feel the wiry hairs pushing out between his arm and torso, growing bushier and escaping the bounds of his underarm. 

He should’ve been shocked, alarmed, panicked, anything of the sort, but instead he just stuck his hand into the damp jungle to scratch it. His fingers dug into the thick forest, digging deep to get at the sweaty skin below. Upon pulling his hand out he automatically sniffed it, as if he’d done so for a lifetime. The aroma filled his nose, the ripe stench causing his cock to shoot out a spurt of precum. The virus had gotten its foothold, altered his thinking enough to not only be nearly unaware of the changes, but to be aroused by them, to desire them. He leaned back in the chair, lifting his arms behind his head and exposing his hairy matted pits to the world.

The chair groaned under Cody as his body slowly swelled, muscles growing larger and thicker. His back popped as it grew wider, shoulders broadening as his traps and delts exploded with size. His tank top, already at its limit, began to tear at the sides where his lats were widening. Cody scratched at a slight itch on his shoulder, not thinking much of it, but the dusting of hairs on his shoulders had begun to spread, new curls cropping up all over. The wave of fur stretched from his forested chest up over his collarbone to his traps and shoulders before starting its descent. The itch crept down towards his shoulder blades as thin hairs pushed out, quickly growing from fuzz into fur. It almost looked like Cody was developing wings made of hair, as the patches knit together, creeping towards his spine to join into one hairy coat. The bristles continued working down, sprouting into thick stands that tangled together as they pushed out, growing denser as testosterone drenched each and every follicle. The burgeoning trail of hair reached his waistband, where it exploded into a sweaty tuft just above his ass. The hairs continued to fill in until his entire back was coated, a sweat-matted rug that was even curling around his sides to connect with the field of hair on his stomach. 

Cody shifted in his seat, trying to shake an uncomfortable feeling growing down in his underwear. His ass had been filling out all day, stretching his underwear to its limit, but this was different. Deep between his cheeks, thick hairs were slowly pushing out around his hole. They grew dark and wiry, tickling him as they squeezed between his massive cheeks. More hairs began to press out, surrounding his hole before spreading outwards. The shadow of loaded follicles crept over both his cheeks, and shortly after the hairs burst forth in a wave, pushing against his tight underwear as his ass disappeared beneath the growing fur. The hair continued to spread, connecting to his furry back and to his jungle of pubes which similarly thickened even more.

Cody reached down to scratch at his crotch, and paused for a moment after seeing his hand. It was much thicker than it’d been, with rough, calloused palms and thick sausages for fingers. He flipped it over and watched as a thick dark hair wormed out of his knuckle, followed by another, and in seconds there were dark tufts of hair popping up across his hand. The hairs crawled up towards his forearm, where his once soft dusting of wispy brown hairs was overrun by new dense growth. The hairs pushed out long and wove together into a puffy forest that climbed up his arm, the growth not petering out in the slightest. His beefy triceps vanished beneath the growing fur as it reached towards the thick hairs on his shoulders.

He watched the hairs overtake his once smooth and tanned skin but, rather than alarm. all Cody felt was arousal, with his cock chubbing up in his pants. He was half tempted to use that newly hairy hand to grab it, but he restrained himself. Not in front of Shane, it could wait. The sun had started to set, and as if on cue his uncle spoke up.

“Welp, better get workin’ on some supper,” he said, hoisting himself out of his chair. He left Cody out on the patio, finally giving his nephew a quiet moment to himself. Cody gazed out over the pastures, glowing in shades of orange and gold from the sunset. He could get used to it out here, he thought to himself. The desire to get back to wrestling with his team had slipped even further, he’d barely mentioned them during his and Shane’s multi-hour banter. The virus had been multiplying in his head, suppressing those neural connections in favor of those made recently on the ranch. He wanted to stay here on the ranch with the cattle, giving the virus more chance to spread to others. It would do anything to make that a reality.

Cody watched the sun slip below the horizon and headed back to his room. He tried to pull off his tank but instead it shredded, unable to cope with his massive body. He laid down on the bed, feeling the thick hairs on his back rub against the sheets. It was an electric feeling, and very quickly the bulge down there had doubled in size from the sensation. He brought one hand up to the dense rug of hair on his chest, not questioning how it’d grown since the morning, raking his fingers through the wiry swirls of hair. It felt amazing. A wet spot appeared on his jeans and grew as he stroked the thick chest hairs, before he stripped off his pants and underwear to free his fully erect cock from confinement, dribbling precum down its side.

His other hand he brought up to his face, feeling the fluffy growth. It was lighter than the rest of his new growth, but as he scratched at his cheeks he could feel new hairs poking out. The hairs grew in thicker and denser, his beard filling in as skin vanished underneath. The follicles continued to pump out hair after hair, thicker and darker than before as hormones completed his change. The beard hairs pushed out longer and longer, tangling into a solid block of hair that hid his face and neck as it grew down. The bristles poked out higher up on his cheeks, claiming as much of his face as they could. Cody was in ecstasy, feeling his beard come in around his fingers. His cock pulsed without him even needing to touch it, the testosterone coursing through his body thickening all the hairs into a seamless pelt. 

He loved his new body, his new fur, and he had to make it permanent. The virus guiding him, he reached down to his cock, his grip not even enough to surround the girth, and pumped it once up and down. With just that, Cody moaned in a newly gruff voice as he climaxed, his cock erupting with a geyser of cum. Rope after rope of thick cum landed all over his body, getting stuck in the forest of hair engulfing him. As the last load dribbled out of the tip his body relaxed, so did his old life of college and wrestling. Cody laid there, plastered with his own load as waves of pleasure echoed through his body. This was the life, he thought, still rubbing his hands through his cum soaked fur. 

Cody managed to clean himself up a bit by the time Shane called from the kitchen. He sat across from his uncle at the table while they ate, resuming the banter from earlier. At the end of the meal Cody finally decided it was time.

“Y’know Shane, I think I’d like to stick around for good.”

This story is my submission to @occamstfs 2000 follower writing challenge. Definitely my longest one yet, thanks everyone for reading to the end! I hope y'all enjoyed it, and thanks to Occam himself for the motivation, inspiration, and editing he did!

New Recruit

Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.

He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come. 

Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.

The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.

“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”

Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.

“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!” 

His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant. 

“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.

“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.

“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him. 

“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”

“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”

“Yes.. sir,”

“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”

Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.

“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 

Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.

Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height. 

The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.

Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform. 

The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body. 

The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.

Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin. 

Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.

Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest. 

“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”

Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.

“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch. 

The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”

Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.

Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.

This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.

Filling the Roster

Aidan was just starting his second year at university. The summer home with family had been exhausting and he was pumped to be back on campus with everyone and to get back to his routine. Ever since going off to college he’d been trying to work on himself, including going to the gym for the first time in his life. He’d gotten into a good routine his freshman year but hadn’t managed to gain much muscle yet, to his dismay. He was hoping to change that this year. The first day of classes had been a snoozefest, just reading syllabi and some uncomfortable ice breakers, so he was ready to get out of the classroom and into the gym again.

He walked into the campus gym and glanced around to see what was open. He noticed what looked like the wrestling team in the back, hogging all the squat racks and making their presence known with obnoxious grunting. Making a mental note to avoid that area today, Aidan went over to the treadmill to warm up. He’d always been on the nerdier side growing up, and while he did have a year of exercise under his belt now, he still didn’t fit in with that kind of crowd. Aidan put in his earbuds and got to it, the next hour flying by as he did a mild total body workout to ease himself back in.

Satisfied with himself for the day, he grabbed his water bottle and headed to the locker room. Normally he hated changing here and would just walk home first, but he had a club meeting that evening and he didn’t have time to go all the way back. He walked in and was immediately assaulted by the stench, the room absolutely stunk of BO and sweat. Yeah it was a locker room but this was a bit much, he thought as he breathed through his mouth. The wrestling guys had evidently finished their workouts too, as the room was noisy from all their chatter and yelling. They’d left their gear scattered all over the benches and floor, leaving hardly any room for anyone else. Aidan rolled his eyes and squeezed his way through the chaos to an empty corner. Despite working out for an hour he hadn’t sweat much, he never did, so he skipped the shower. Midway through changing he realized the room had gone silent. He turned around to check if the wrestlers had all left but instead was greeted with a sight that made him freeze.

The entire team had gathered behind him and now stared at him. The biggest guy, who Aidan recognized as their captain, Beau, broke the silence.

“Hey pipsqueak,” he said with a shockingly deep voice for a college student, “We found out today we’re down a man this season. We gotta solve that ASAP, y’know?”

Aidan was confused and intimidated. “Uh… Sorry to hear that man,” he said with a crack in his voice. He took a step back only to hit the wall of lockers behind him.

“Yea it’s a real shame ain’t it,” the wrestler took a step towards Aidan. “It’s a good thing I’m a great recruiter,” he laughed to himself. There was an almost sinister grin plastered on his face. 

Aidan felt cornered, realizing that he was standing there in just his boxers. “What do you want with me dude?” He asked frantically as the wrestlers slowly closed in on him. The putrid stench in the room was only getting worse as the jocks came nearer. 

“Like I said, we need a replacement wrestler,” Beau replied, pulling a yellowed jockstrap out of his bag that was on the bench. “I think you’ll enjoy getting to know the team.”

Aidan’s heart was pounding through his chest, he didn’t know what they wanted with him but he knew he needed to get out NOW. His fight or flight (mostly flight) instincts were kicking in. He looked past the wall of jocks to the door of the locker room, about 20 feet away. Before he had a chance to act, two of the wrestlers pounced. They grabbed Aidan’s arms and held him in place as Beau walked up to him.

“What the fuck, let me go!” Aidan cried in distress, struggling against his captors. They were bigger and evidently much stronger than him, not letting him budge at all.

“Hush now, I think you have some real potential here, I’m just going to let that all out,” Beau told Aidan before grabbing his boxers and ripping them off. Aidan’s flaccid cock was on full display, as were the paltry few hairs he called his bush. 

“Well, I’ve seen worse,” Beau chuckled to himself. He took the dirty jockstrap in his hand and pulled it up Aidan’s legs letting it snap into place around his small member. 

“Let me go!” Aidan yelled, continuing to try and break free from the jock’s hold. 

“Just give it a moment,” Beau said, kneeling down to look closer at Aidan’s groin. Aidan’s struggling lessened as he noticed a strange sensation coming from his crotch that was seemingly getting more intense every second. It felt… good almost. No, it did feel good, it was almost like he was jerking off without even touching himself. He felt his dick start to harden as the sensation of pleasure grew.

Beau laughed, “There you go man! I knew you’d come around.” Those words barely registered in Aidan’s ears as he stared at his dick, watching it grow erect and push against the jockstrap as his body was flooded with pleasure hormones. It felt incredible, like his dick was growing harder than ever before. It in fact was, growing steadily past his previous five inches, reaching seven, eight, as it really started to tent the jockstrap. A tingling feeling arose within Aidan’s crotch at the same time as Beau leaned in to take a closer look.

“Aww yea, look at those pubes start to come in. Fuck that’s hot.” He watched as dark hairs sprouted out of Aidan’s mostly bare crotch, like thick weeds shooting out of his skin. Aidan groaned as the sensation of hair growing added to his already euphoric state. Hairs continued popping up across his groin, filling in denser and denser as they spread out. “Looks like our man’s goin’ through puberty right in front of us,” Beau said as he rubbed his hand through the sprouting bush. Aidan’s body shivered in pleasure, Beau’s touch seemingly encouraging more hairs to push out of him. The pubic hairs grew longer and curled together, climbing up the shaft of his now massive cock. Beau grinned as he noticed Aidan’s balls swelling, growing to the size of eggs, then tangerines as they stretched his sack and hung lower. That was just the beginning, as the same thick dark pubes wormed their way out giving him a thick coating. At this point the jockstrap was barely covering anything. Aidan’s now nine inch cock stood completely erect, tenting the fabric and letting his new bush explode outward. Those thick pubes were starting to produce their own musk, not too dissimilar from the general stench of the locker room. The hairs spread out even farther, beginning to climb up above his waistband and onto his stomach, as well as spreading to his inner thighs with a thick rug. Aidan hung in the jocks’ arms nearly limp, his cock dribbling precum like a faucet.

“Well I think this has served its purpose,” Beau said to himself as he pulled the jockstrap off Aidan, letting his thick cock snap up against his stomach. The flow of precum soaked the area around his navel, and where the precum had wetted his skin, more thick hairs began to crop up. Beau went back to his bag and exchanged the dripping jockstrap for a wrestling singlet. It was damp from sweat and being stuffed in Beau’s dank gym bag, and stank to high heaven. With the help of the other wrestlers, Beau got the tight singlet onto Aidan’s lanky body. It didn’t really fit, but there was an enormous bulge from Aidan’s recent developments. He pulled the shoulder straps and let them snap down onto Aidan’s bony clavicle. That immediately pulled Aidan out of his subdued hormone-fueled slumber. 

“Oh, god, oh, oh what the fuck,” he said, processing the past few minutes. Part of his brain was still in adrenaline mode, telling him he needed to BOLT, while another part was content with this situation, elated even. The longer he breathed in the musky air of the locker room the louder that voice became, and the more he wanted Beau’s hands back on him. He looked up away from his own body and made eye contact with Beau, a grin crossing his stubbled face.

“You already look good in that singlet man, it won’t take much now,” Beau told him. Aidan’s mind was running at light speed but his mouth was not on the same wavelength. 

“What are you-, why are-, how the-,” Aidan was trying to get his thoughts out when the pulsing, pleasurable sensation began to return. His words trailed off as he looked down at his own flat chest, watching with wide eyes as two muscular pecs began to push out. He felt his whole body begin to tighten as muscle started popping out all over. Pronounced bone disappeared under layers of thick muscle that began to fill out his form, and the singlet. What had previously been impressively slack for a spandex suit was now taught against his body, expanding as he did. His pecs grew sore as they continued to grow, blocking Aidan’s view of his lower half as they packed on size. On the new horizon of his chest he noticed something, tiny hairs were poking out of his mountainous pecs. They started small and slow but quickly began shooting up all across the vast expanse of his chest. The hairs itched as they grew in, Aidan wasn’t bothered, he was in awe at the forest that was engulfing his new muscles. He ran his hands through the growing hairs, pulling gently on the hairs as they continued their advance across his chest, working up towards his neck and down across his stomach. As the hairs matured they grew darker and curlier, tangling into a thick rug across his pecs. Beau watched Aidan become enraptured by his own jockification. He noticed a growing wet spot in his groin where the precum continued to leak out constantly.

Beau stepped back up to Aidan and planted his hand on his chest, feeling the growing fields of hair. That alone was enough to get a soft moan out of Aidan, putting a devilish grin on Beau’s face. He pinned Aidan’s growing frame against the locker before raising one of his arms up. What he found was underwhelming; a handful of light wispy hairs scattered across the armpit. That would have to change. He stuck his hand into his own sweaty, hairy pit and rubbed it around, coating his fingers in thick jock sweat and musk. He sniffed them just to make sure it was potent enough, and his body was never slacking in the sweat department. Taking his moistened hand he went back to Aidan’s nearly hairless pit and massaged the sweat in. Within moments he felt little prickles of stubble against his fingers. Beau saw dark pinpricks appearing across Aidan’s pit, spots that quickly erupted into thick, wiry hairs. The original wispy hairs grew dark and curly as the sweat did its work, and soon Aidan had a respectable amount of hair under his arm. But that wasn’t enough for Beau, he dug out some more musky sweat from his own pits to finish the job. Soon enough Aidan’s pit hairs completely coated the area, even reaching out to connect with the pelt on his chest. Beau’s fingers were combing through the thick hairs, gently tugging on them and pulling out more growth. Aidan moaned again; the feeling of Beau’s hands stroking his growing pit hairs was euphoric. He was slipping more and more from his old self as his body grew to love this new reality, the jock voice in his own head growing louder.

Beau was satisfied with the pit situation after he was able to smell Aidan’s newly produced stench from a distance. He stepped back and watched as Aidan’s body continued to adjust to the singlet. In the same way his pecs had ballooned, his arms began exploding with size. His delts, triceps, biceps, and forearms grew intensely sore as they put on years worth of bulk in moments. Aidan was finally starting to look like a wrestler who could hold his own on the mat. The definition on his new muscles was quickly hidden as hair began to sprout across his boulder shoulders and down his arms. What started as a few hairs popping up across his shoulders grew into a flood of dark hair that surged down his arms, and the singlet left it all visible for the crowd. The hairs continued growing denser, curling around each other as the hair began to resemble fur on his bulky arms; he would look like a total beast of a man in action. Aidan’s hands got the same treatment, his palms grew bulkier as his hands stretched out in size. He could hear the popping sounds of his growth but was too flush with hormones to care, barely registering the thick hairs growing on the backs of his hands. Beau could already tell Aidan was going to become one of their best wrestlers, with his immense size and build. All he needed was to let the inner jock blooming inside of him take control.

After the growth in Aidan’s arms slowed down, his legs picked up the slack. His quads beefed up, thighs nearly shredding the singlet with their girth. Beau watched as Aidan’s bulge twitched and leaked as his legs grew longer and thicker than they’d ever been. His feet began to stretch and grow, expanding to a size 15 before becoming covered by hairs. Those hairs raced up his calves and onto his thighs, leaving him with a thick fur coating for his tree trunks. Aidan had grown to the point where he could take most of the jocks on the team, almost rivaling Beau’s height and mass. Beau knew he’d made a good call with Aidan, he’d been so similar before he joined the team. He couldn’t help but rub his hands over Aidan’s furry legs, feeling the coarse hairs run through his fingers. He could feel Aidan’s heart rate increase. He almost felt envious of him, experiencing immense growth like this was a once in a lifetime event, and he knew Aidan was almost complete.

Aidan groaned as his body fully filled out the singlet, stretching it to its limit with his massive muscles. The fur that had coated his body felt incredible rubbing against the fabric, keeping his cock at full mast, pressed against the singlet so everyone knew. Beau looked him up and down; Aidan had the body of a tank, a heavyweight champion, but a severe case of babyface. Beau had an idea, he went back to his grab and grabbed his mouthguard. It was grimy and had a couple hairs stuck to it, but it’d do the trick. He grabbed Aidan’s pudgy face and opened his mouth, shoving the guard in. Aidan sputtered as he gagged on old spit and wiry hairs.

“Aw, the hell bro what was that,” he complained weakly. Beau smiled, he was already speaking more like a jock, and that voice was getting deeper. He watched as an Adam's apple pushed out of Aidan’s neck, cementing his new rugged voice. Aidan’s face started to darken a shade as the shadow of thick stubble spread across his jaw. It quickly pushed out, brown hairs coating his face. They grew longer and thicker, with more popping up between old ones, giving him an incredibly dense short beard. Aidan moaned as the hairs spread across his jaw and up his sideburns to his hair, which gained some lighter highlights and shortened into a more athletic style. His upper lip erupted with the same thick hairs, giving him a full short beard. His jaw squared up and his eyebrows grew bushier, before his ears grew and stuck out from his head more. He finally looked fully like a champion wrestler. Aidan stroked his hands through the dense growth, finally pushing him over the edge. His breaths quickened and grew louder as he climaxed, grunting as cum erupted out of his thick cock. It pushed through the fabric of the singlet, pouring down the front of it. The euphoric trance he’d been in began to fade, but the old Aidan was gone. He was Aidan the wrestler, a jock ready to conquer his path on the mat. Instinctually he flexed, showing off his beefy arms and hairy pits. The scent emanating from his pits matched the rest of the locker room now, and he took a big whiff of it out of habit, that manly odor really turned him on. Beau laughed and grabbed Aidan’s hand, pulling him upright. His cum was still dripping down his singlet onto the floor, adding to the pungent scent of the locker room.

“Welcome to the team bro,” Beau said, looking forward to their best season yet.

MEN ARE PIGS

"Urgh, men are such fucking pigs"

Aww, look at this cute little twink, whinging about his bad break up. Turns out his boyfriend, er, ex-boyfriend was just using him for sex. Well, yeah, men are pigs after all. But it's cute how naive he is...

He thinks he's exempt

Bros, what are you thinking? Cuz I think a real pig should have a big, fat, hairy ass. Barely able to be stuffed in his trousers. A real pig should have dark, wiry hair that covers every inch of his body, leaving a thick forest stuffed deep in his pits and between his cheeks.

It's such a shame his ex was only interested in his body. Men, right? You know, I think I should leave him desperately, pathetically horny for exactly the type of twink he used to be. Yeah, he deserves it.

I snap my fingers, and this thick mist of sweat and deodorant rains down over his body

"Gahghh, What is that?"

POOF

He screams

"WHAT THE FUCK HAS HAPPENED TO ME??"

I'll leave him to claw at his new, hairy ass. I'm sure he'll even try shaving it. But sooner or later he'll end up at the club, grunting and growling at every boy in a crop top that walks past, and they'll role their eyes, and think to themselves "Ew, men are fucking pigs".

But hey, I'll get to them too

Spring Break

Noah was pissed. Today was supposed to be the beginning of the best spring break ever. He’d planned a week-long trip with his college friends to New York City. They’d had it all lined up- museums, restaurants, sightseeing, it was perfect. But about a week before, Noah’s mom had called and delivered devastating news. They were having a family reunion that week. In rural Florida. Attendance was not optional. She’d bought his ticket already and there was no way out.

The day had arrived, and he solemnly made his way to the airport and flew to Tallahassee. They were meeting at his relatives’ place in the Florida panhandle, in the middle of nowhere. He’d been once as a kid and vowed never to go back. After a two hour drive from the airport he made it, driving up a dirt driveway to the massive, yet ramshackle, house in the forest. The next hour was a blur of greeting extended family, most of whom he barely remembered since they tended to stay out here in the country. After that settled down his mom came up to him, clearly very excited about something.

“Noah! You’re not gonna believe this, but since it’ll be a few more days before everyone’s here, your cousins Chevy and Logan are gonna take you out on a hunting trip! Just for a couple days,” she was nearly bouncing off the ground.

Noah groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He had nothing in common with his cousins, and certainly did not want to spend time alone with them out in the swampy wilderness. His mom was not hearing any complaints from him though, and she dragged him out back to reacquaint him with his cousins. Chevy and Logan were chatting with each other on the patio, beers in hand, decked out in the camo hunting gear Noah assumed they lived and slept in. They were only a couple years older than Noah, but looked quite a bit older compared to the baby faced city boy.

“Ayyy Noah! What’s up, it’s been a while man,” Chevy walked over and gave him a bear hug, spilling some beer on his back.

“Hey Chevy, nice to see you too. I heard you guys were uh, taking me out camping,” Noah said unenthusiastically.

“Not just camping my guy!” Logan butted in, “We’re talking full on country backroads hunting boy’s trip! We’ll show you what you’re missing by being cooped up in the city.”

Noah’s heart sank; it was worse than he’d thought. They were gonna drag him out there and make him hunt? He didn’t like killing anything and worse, having to deal with the aftermath. He put on a forced grin since his mother was right there.

“Wow, that sounds real great guys, I can’t wait,” he said through gritted teeth. His subliminal messages to them were entirely lost.

“Hell yes bro! Here’s a pack with some of our extra hunting clothing, you won’t want a whole suitcase out there,” Chevy said, handing Noah a backpack. “We’ve got some extra gear that should fit you, it’s already in the truck. We’ll leave in 30 minutes, so get yourself ready.”

30 minutes?? That was immediate, he wouldn’t even have time to plead his case to get out of it. Begrudgingly he went back inside to get his stuff together. The next thing he knew, it was time. The boys were out front in their pickup truck, the back full of tents, camouflage gear, and who knows what else. Logan laid on the horn.

“NOAHHHHHH! It’s time to scram, let's get outta here!” Logan shouted over the blaring horn. 

Noah groaned, this was setting the tone for the whole trip. He looked at himself in the mirror, the camo pants and hoodie just looked wrong on him. He for sure didn’t want his clothes getting covered in mud though, so he sucked it up and headed out front. Chevy grabbed his bag and tossed it in the back before climbing in shotgun, leaving Noah in the cramped back seats. And with that, they were off.

“There’s a real nice game area ‘bout an hour, hour and a half from here,” Logan said. “We’ll get in, set up a nice camp, then relax. Then at sunrise we’ll start you off with somethin easy, maybe a deer or boar,” he turned and looked at Noah, grinning. 

Noah bounced around in the back of the truck as Logan drove through the forest on bumpy dirt roads. Chevy had put on some country music up front, and they were practically yelling to have a conversation over it. They tried talking to Noah about what he’d been up to, but Noah was sulking and gave only short answers. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky when they pulled off, offroading through some clear land towards a spot they’d clearly been to before. They stopped at a neat little clearing near a creek. It was objectively a beautiful little spot, but Noah was not in the mood to appreciate it, already swatting at mosquitoes swarming him. 

“Alright man, you ever pitch a tent?” Chevy asked Noah. 

“Uh, no, I haven’t”

“Well here, I’ll help ya out,” he said earnestly. “We’ve already got a well used spot here, so first we just lay out this footprint, and here let’s have you start with the poles.”

Noah fumbled around with the metal poles before eventually getting them together. He was frustrated, why would he ever need to know this? Chevy took the poles and got the tent up while Logan was still unloading the back of the truck.

“Alright we’re nearly done, just gotta secure it with these stakes,” he handed them to Noah. “Just stick these through the corner, make sure they’re deep in the ground now.”

Noah took the stakes and tried pushing them into the dirt, but they only made it about an inch in. He tried scraping the dirt away with his hands but that didn’t help. Chevy tapped his shoulder, holding a mallet as a suggestion. They’d just gotten here and already Noah was annoyed despite his cousin’s encouraging attitude. His hands were covered in dirt too, he hated being dirty! And he had no escape from all of it. He stormed off to the water’s edge in a huff while the other two finished putting their site together. The sun was really setting by then.

“Ey Noah!” Logan called, “Come have a beer with us man! We’ve got some chili cookin’ too, ya gotta eat somethin,” he laughed. Noah sighed. There was no point in sulking the entire trip like this, even if he wanted to. He walked back over and pulled a beer out of the cooler they’d brought and sat down.

“It seems his highness has decided to grace us with his presence,” Chevy mocked. Noah chuckled. He’d make it through this, even if it took all the beer in that cooler. The boys ate dinner and talked as the sun dipped below the horizon, with Noah actually giving some substantial answers this time. He was exhausted, having flown in and driven all day. He climbed into his tent to hit the sack. If he’d had a mirror in there, he would’ve noticed what looked like some dirt smeared on his face, just on his upper lip and the sides of his face by his ears.

Noah was abruptly awakened by Chevy shaking him. “Hey bro! It’s just starting to get light out, let’s get moving.” Noah groaned, it was his vacation and he was getting woken up at five something in the morning. He crawled out of his tent, banging his head on the pole; was it really that small last night?  The boys were up and moving already, and Chevy handed Noah a granola bar to eat. “It’s a light breakfast I know, but we don’t wanna miss the prime time of the day,” he said softly.

Despite being exhausted, Noah’s annoyance was fading quickly. Maybe this would be a little bit of fun; at the very least it would be something different from normal. He scratched at his chin, his fingers brushing through the smallest bit of stubble that had sprouted overnight. Noah had never been able to grow facial hair, but for some reason this didn’t alarm him, it felt natural even. He put on his hat to hide his messy hair and began to chow down on that granola bar. As he did, that small amount of stubble began pushing out more, giving Noah a shadow across his jaw. It grew thicker, sticking out further until he had a rough, patchy beard. It made Noah look more natural in his hunting gear, aging him up just a hair. His clothes had also grown less baggy on him, attributing to an extra inch or two in height and some mass he’d never been able to pack on before.

Within a few minutes, they were off, trekking through the tall grass into the brush. Logan guided them to a denser pocket where they set up watch and waited for some wildlife to show up. Logan had told them he knew there were deer that tended to feed nearby, so they just had to be quiet and wait. The tension grew as time passed, and before he knew it, a buck had shown up in the clearing. Chevy had prepared him for this, and he took the shot. The deer went down, and Chevy and Logan cheered.

“Hell yes dude! Nice shot, especially for your first time,” Logan patted him on the back.

Chevy gripped him with joy, “It must be in your blood bro, you’re a natural.”

The adrenaline was coursing through Noah’s veins and to his surprise he was actually having a good time. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t wanted to spend time with his cousins, they were chill, and this was turning out to be better than being cooped up in the house. The three of them carried the animal back, working together to hoist several hundred pounds. The sun was fully up now and it was humid. Sweat ran down Noah’s back, and he could smell the putrid stench coming off Chevy in front of him. He didn’t mind though, after all, that’s what a working man smells like.

The sweat was clinging to Noah’s damp skin, beading on his forehead. As he slogged ahead, carrying this massive weight on his shoulders, his body began to adapt. His twig like arms expanded with new muscle, his thighs exploded with size, and his chest produced an impressive set of pecs before softening with a layer of fat. The sweat and smell really began to soak into his skin, and under his sopping shirt small brown hairs poked up around his nipples. Those soft, small hairs didn’t remain so for long, sprouting from his chest, covering the expanse in a curly rug that was slicked down with sweat. Noah’s stubble was not to be left out, pushing further out of his face. Hairs wriggled out in the gaps between old ones, leaving him with much better coverage on his cheeks. Around his chin it even started to fluff up a little, coarse hairs puffing out.

They finally made it back to their camp, dropping the load and slumping into the chairs they’d left around the fire pit. 

“We’ll have to gut and clean that in a minute, but here champ,” Logan handed Noah a beer. It was cold, and exactly what Noah needed against the oppressive humidity. “Here’s to many more,” he toasted, before chugging his own down. Noah was finally able to take a breather, and thats when he noticed.

He STUNK.

He raised his arms back behind his head, airing them out. The sweat drenched pits aired their stench to the world, but to Noah, he just matched his cousins now. The exposed pits had a few hairs plastered to the skin. As he sipped the beer and relaxed, more wisps of hair shot out from his skin, growing thick and wiry. What started as a few extra hairs quickly blossomed into a thick forest of hairs, tangling together and poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt. The hairs itched as they grew in, prompting Noah to dig his fingers in there, scratching through the sweaty, smelly hairs. He didn’t question it, as far as he remembered he’d had hairy pits since middle school. The hairs spread out of his pits, connecting to the dense coating on his chest. The rug on his chest had started creeping upwards, reaching with thick tendrils of hair towards his burgeoning beard.

After a short reprieve Noah was back on his feet, jumping at the opportunity to learn from his cousins how to clean their kill. They were eager to teach him, to fold him into their ways. Noah’s distaste for his cousins, the country, hunting, all of it was evaporating. He felt like he had so much in common with them now, how had he never realized? 

The rest of the day Chevy and Logan took Noah on a whole laundry list of activities they’d planned. Fishing, mudding, you name it. All hesitation had disappeared, Noah was in deep now. He kept drinking with the boys, not noticing that his gut was pushing tight against his shirt. In fact, his whole upper body was stretching out. His shoulders pushed out, growing broader. His frame was massive now, bigger than either of his cousins. He stood out on the edge of a pond in the harsh sunlight fishing, his shirt absolutely soaked with sweat that dribbled down his massive back. As it reached his waistband, it began fertilizing the growth of a new patch of hair right above his plump ass. The hairs sprung out of the wet skin, shooting up his spine in minutes. Before long the hairs had spread out across the wide expanse of his lats, pressing against the tight shirt. The fields of hair were thick, dense enough to darken the shade of his skin, and definitely didn’t help with the sweat situation. The hairs continued to spread, climbing over his round shoulders and down his arms, coating him with a wild fur that cemented his place out in the country. He was really starting to look like his cousins now, between his camo gear, hairy body, and beer gut. 

When the three of them returned to camp that night, Noah was exhausted. He grabbed another can from the cooler and cracked it open. Putting up to his mouth, he tilted it a little too far, spilling foamy beer down his face and into his chest hair. He chuckled and half attempted to wipe the foam off. Where it sat in his beard, the hairs began to thicken and sprout. His mustache grew incredibly thick, making itself known above the rest of his scruff. His chest fur also took to the growth, turning into a real carpet that climbed up and out of his shirt collar. Noah let out a massive burp in response.

“Yo Chevy, we really gotta head back tomorrow? Shit rocks out here,” Noah said with a deeper voice than he’d ever had previously.

“Yea bro, Ma will skin us if we miss the reunion. But don’t worry man, I know you’ll be back out with us in no time,” he flashed a grin at Noah. 

Noah went and dug through their bags, finding a lighter and pack of cigars. Now that the sun was going down, it was cool enough to enjoy being outside. He lit it up and took a hefty puff, his huge, hirsute body taking it in like a champ. Any thoughts about his old spring break, his old life, had been dragged through the mud and stamped out. All he wanted to do now was relax, listen to the sounds of the crickets, and spend time with his bros. 

Greek Vacation

It was finally June, and Alex could barely sleep. He’d worked his ass off the last year in college to avoid having to take summer classes, which meant he could join the rest of his family on their trip to Greece. His mom had apparently won tickets or miles or something through her job, he couldn’t remember. All that mattered was he was going to Greece! It was finally time to relax and unwind from the insanely stressful last few months. He’d gone over his packing list six, seven times now; he was absolutely sure he was ready. His family was meeting him at the airport, so he was just pacing now, waiting on that text to start moving. The phone on the countertop buzzed and he lunged for it. It was time.

Alex grabbed his oversized suitcase and lugged it down the stairs of his apartment building out to the street. He hopped on the bus and found a seat. He was giddy, this trip was his dream trip as a kid, and now he was finally getting to go. He’d helped plan out their whole itinerary, from the Acropolis to the ruins at Delphi and so so many more. Before he knew it, they were dropping him at the airport. Inside the chaotic lobby he managed to spot his parents, his dad was already wearing a massive sun hat which helped. The next hour was a blur getting their bags checked, through security, and corralling everyone to the gate. Then began the longest part of the trip: the flight. Alex had brought noise canceling headphones and an extra strong dose of melatonin that he prayed would do the job. And miraculously, it did. Nearly ten hours later he woke up to the sounds of the plane landing, and next thing he knew they were in a cab headed into Athens.

The cab pulled up to their hotel, depositing them and their bags at the foot of a beautiful white building with a grand entrance. This part was his mother’s domain. She ushered everyone inside and got them to their room in no time. Alex was unpacking and setting his stuff out when he realized he couldn’t find his phone charger. He tore everything out of his suitcase and backpack, trying desperately to find it. Nothing. He must’ve left it in his haste getting out the door, after all his phone was plugged in while he was waiting. 

Shit, he thought, before solemnly announcing the news to his family.

“We’ll stop by a store or something and get you a new one, it's fine,” his mother said, buried in her own suitcase. What a start to the trip. Alex sat on the side of his bed looking out the window at the building next door, kicking his legs waiting for them to get going. Finally, after another 30 minutes, they were getting back out the door. 

Alex and his family started wandering through the massive metropolis of Athens, surrounded by white buildings and the intense noise of a city. Only a few blocks away they came upon a massive street market, with locals selling everything imaginable. Fruits, street food, bags, shirts, phones, you name it. Surely, Alex thought, they would sell a phone charger here. He squeezed up and down through tight corridors of shops, flooded with people. He was deep into the market when his path was blocked with a crowd. He turned around, only to find the way he came in also packed tight with tourists. He was stuck. As panic started to set in, Alex heard a deep, husky voice from the stall behind him.

“You there, tourist boy,” the voice said, and Alex whipped around to see a large man with dark olive skin, and the hairiest body he’d ever seen. It was on his fingers, hands, forearms, and crawled out of his open shirt solidly up to the thick bushy beard on his face that nearly hid all his features. Alex was frozen, taking in the sight of this man. He was snapped out of his daze by the man speaking again.

“You look tired, boy. Did you just arrive?” he looked Alex in the eyes.

Alex was jumbling his words, “Uh, yes, yea I did. But I slept! I shouldn’t be tired.. I don’t think…” 

The man grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. “Here boy, this will help you,” he said in his thick accent. He took out a small beaded bracelet and slipped it onto Alex’s wrist, tying it tight. 

“Uhh, thanks?” Alex remarked, a little confused about the whole situation. The moment was interrupted by his mother’s voice piercing through the crowd.

“Alex!! Alex!! Are you over here?” Alex jerked his head towards the voice, starting to back away from the man.

“Enjoy your trip, boy,” the man said, releasing his arm and giving a slight wave. Alex turned away and pushed through the throng of people in his way, eventually reaching his mother.

“Alex! Thank god you’re okay, we lost you immediately. Here, we found someone selling chargers,” she handed him a cord, not even noticing the bracelet on his wrist. “Alright, let’s get back on track today, shall we?” she put some pep in her voice. As the family squeezed through the crowded Athenian streets, Alex failed to notice a slight itch where the bracelet clung to his wrist.

The summer sun beat down on them as they slowly made their way up the hills of Athens. Alex was sweating buckets, the back of his shirt absolutely drenched. He looked over in envy at his dad’s sun hat that he had mocked earlier. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the base of the acropolis. Alex’s dad groaned at the sight of not only immense crowds, but another massive rock they had to climb. Alex was undeterred however, his eyes lit up with the sight of the ruins atop the hill. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he let nothing get in his way as he dragged his family into the crowd to get closer. The slight itch under the bracelet continued, unbeknownst to Alex. His skin under it was darkening to an olive shade, slowly creeping up his arm and down towards his hand. Where the darker tone had spread, hairs began popping up, thick black hairs in contrast to his light brown wispy hairs. They continued to sprout, growing in between the last, creating a dense, curly coat. The back of his hand was next, the same black hairs wriggling out. Soon enough, his forearm stuck out like a sore thumb next to the rest of his pale body, yet no one seemed to notice.

The next couple hours were heaven for Alex. He explored the acropolis with his family, pointing out everything he’d researched and explaining even more. Between the numerous ruins and museums, the rest of the day was jam packed with artifacts. Alex even found himself remembering facts about spots he didn’t remember researching. The other constant of the day was the sun. It beat down on them from above with the full force of a Mediterranean summer, sweat constantly dripping from his forehead. It seemed like significantly more than usual for Alex, but he chalked it up to the different climate, and how much they’d been walking. Under his soaked shirt, however, his body was adapting. The deep olive color had spread all the way up his arm, with the forest of hair following, coating his upper arm. The hairs crawled over his inflating shoulder, sprinkling it with black wisps. His bicep has also grown substantially, almost like he was a regular gym-goer, matching his now beefier hand and forearm.

The sun-kissed shade continued to spread, imposing itself over his chest. Not long after, his chest began growing. It pushed out two meaty pecs, skin stretching to accommodate the immense muscles growing in slowly. His chest was sore as years of workouts applied themselves at once. The crisp definition melted somewhat as his form softened, fat layering itself onto his chest and further down as a thick muscle gut grew in. His stomach pressed tight against his shirt, stretching it to its limit. As the muscle pushed out of his frame, so did the hairs. Small black hairs began rearing their heads around his growing nipples, pushing out like thick shoots of grass. The hairs radiated away from his nipples, surging across the open fields of his pectorals, burying them in a black, curly forest. They grew longer and thicker, matting together into a rug across his chest that scratched against his shirt. The fur coat grew denser in the center of his pecs and right below, making them look like real pillow cushions. His gut tingled as the hairs began erupting, swirling together and giving his belly a thick black coat to match. By the time Alex and his family were headed to dinner it looked like he’d eaten plenty, putting on dozens of pounds.

They sat down at a street-side restaurant that Alex had recommended, exhausted after a very active first day. While they browsed the menu, Alex scratched loosely at an itch above the neckline of his shirt. The wave of darker skin tone had slowly been inching up his neck, leading a wave of black hairs. His chest fur had overtaken his collarbone and continued to spread. His neck remained bare until, suddenly, a single dark hair sprouted above his shirt. It was black, thick, and curly. Seconds later, a second hair joined it, shooting out from his shirt collar.  More and more began sprouting, giving Alex a thick dark tuft of hair curling over his shirt. This was just the beginning, though. The dark hairs climbed up his neck, following the wave of olive complexion. Alex’s lean face cracked as it widened, jaw growing thick and square. His brow jutted out and his nose grew more prominent as his face took on the darker tone. His wavy brown hair pulled back some, turning black and more curly. The itching grew as a shadow developed across his jaw, darkening as thick stubble emerged from the bare skin. The scruff seemed to age Alex up a good few years, he seemed like a real adult with the stubble, hairy forearms, and chest hair pushing out of his shirt.

As they ate, Alex briefed his parents on their plan for the next day, starting with an early bus out to Delphi. He already knew the exact times, costs, and routes to take for the perfect day. His parents were impressed at how well researched he was, not noticing the dark scruff covering their son’s face. They finished up dinner and caught a cab home, knowing they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.

The next morning came quickly, and with some disgruntled grumbling from his parents, they were off on their bus to Delphi. It was a three hour trip, so they settled into their seats and his parents tried to get a little more rest. Alex stared eagerly out the window, watching the mountains rush past with the sea behind. As the ride went on, he found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like his body was agitated and he couldn’t figure out why. He tried to focus on the beautiful scenery and the maps of their destination instead. In reality, beneath his clothes, the slow moving wave of Mediterranean skin had crossed his muscle gut and reached his groin. It swept through his crotch, seeding the growth of new hair. His existent bush was sparse, and was quickly engulfed by the torrent of dark curly hairs that erupted from the base of his cock, spreading outward. Black hairs wormed out of his skin like weeds coating the entire area, pushing up towards his navel in a triangle pattern, and out onto his thighs.

Alex tried to subtly scratch at the area as the itching grew intense, using his map to hide his meaty hands groping the area. His flaccid cock absorbed the same olive color, and a thick foreskin stretched itself back over the head. It didn’t stay soft for long, engorging and pushing six, seven, eight inches in his pants. Alex shifted again to try and keep comfortable in his seat, but the growing rod was not helping him, leaving a massive imprint on his shorts. His bush continued to thicken, hairs sprouting between others, curling together into an impenetrable forest. The hairs even started climbing the base of his cock, popping out a ways up. There was a thud on the seat when Alex’s balls suddenly inflated to the size of baseballs, his sack growing furry as the same curly black hairs engulfed them. Alex had spread his legs as much as he could, he was practically on top of the guy in the seat next to him, and he was still feeling squeezed. He was about to reach his limit when the bus came to a stop. They had made it.

Like it was instinct, Alex gathered his parents and started their exploration of the site. He took them to the Temple of Apollo, the museum, and the spring. It was another relentlessly hot day, and within minutes he had started sweating buckets. He ignored it to continue guiding his parents around, but it began to take a toll. Underneath his arms, his paltry smattering of hair was starting to soak up some color, growing thicker and darker. The more sweat dripped from his pits the more hair began to shoot out of them, catching the drops and adding to the stench that began to waft from him. Throughout the morning, more and more hairs poked out from under his arms. His beefy arms weren’t able to hide the enormous tufts of hair that were pushing out of his pits, kept nice and damp from the heat. 

They stopped briefly for lunch at a spot Alex knew and recommended, taking a break from the heat before they continued walking through the town. Alex scratched at his face, his fingers pulling through a little more hair than they had the night before. The meal was a nice reprieve, showcasing some delicious local cuisine to his parents. He took the chance to explain their next destinations, and before long they were back walking up the hills. Alex was glad he’d worn shorts today, it was brutal even for June. His exposed legs had begun taking on the same tone as the rest of him, no longer standing out as pale twigs. Curly hairs brushed against his shorts as they grew en masse, traveling from his pubes downward. The hairs pushed out of his growing thighs, a burgeoning field of dark curls spreading across them. His calves experienced the same, putting on size before getting engulfed with black hair.

They’d made it to the stadium and viewpoint at the top. Alex left the couple to take in the vista and address his current problem; his shoes were way too tight. Luckily, it seemed he’d worn sandals for the day. He bent over to loosen the straps, giving some breathing room to his now size 15 feet, not noticing the coarse hairs popping out across the tops of them. Even his toes were hairy now. He stood back up and looked out over the valley, scratching his ass that had been a little itchy. The same thick curly hairs had started bursting out of his crack, creating a furry mass between his cheeks. The hairs spread out, growing like weeds over the expanse of his ass. The sweat dripping down his widening back helped the hairs take root, and they shot upward sprouting from the small of his back. His lats grew darker as black fur erupted before climbing up to his neck and blending with the thick coating on his shoulders. The coarse curly hairs grew dense and long enough to push his damp shirt nearly an inch away from his body all around. Curly black hairs poked out of the back of his shirt collar too, mirroring the front side.

The sun had begun to hang lower in the sky, signaling it time to head back to the bus station. Alex’s legs had bulked up enough to handle the constant walking up and down, as he should be used to it by now. He guided the couple back down to the town and they got on their way back to Athens, another multi-hour journey. He felt his seat was even smaller this time, his body having swelled with muscle and mass throughout the day. As the bus bumped along the mountain roads, Alex stared at his reflection in the window. His short beard was pushing out. Hairs grew longer, curling together. More hairs sprouted to fill the gaps, climbing higher on his cheeks. The beard grew incredibly dense, adding another couple years to his face. He finally gave in and scooted over, taking up both seats. The bulky man then closed his eyes for an hour until the familiar noise of Athens began leaking through the windows. 

They stopped at the station, and he grabbed the couple’s bags from the rack. WIth that motion, his short sleeve shirt that had been taught against his massive chest all day gave out, bursting open. His thick chest and belly and the incredible rug that covered them were exposed, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him, especially in the summer. He lugged the bags to the curb and handed them over. The woman was exhausted looking, but still had a beaming smile.

“Oh, thank you so much Alexios! You’ve been amazing these last two days.” He swallowed, a large adam’s apple bulging out of his throat, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit to Greece,” he said with a baritone voice and accent.

The man handed him a large stack of bills as a thank you, and the two headed off towards their hotel. Alexios sighed, it had been an exhausting day. And after all that, he needed to prepare for the new tourists he was to guide the next day.

Hey y'all, I was going to start on the poll story but it's been so close I couldn't predict it! So enjoy this race change tf in the mean time. Speaking of which, if you havent yet, go vote in the poll for the next story! There's still 2 days left.

Turkish Delight

——————————————

Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.

He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.

And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.

Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.

That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.

His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.

Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.

“Hey, you.”

Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.

Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.

“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.

“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?

“Like what you see?”

Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.

The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.

After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.

Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.

Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.

The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.

Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.

Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.

After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.

Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.

Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.

This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.

Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.

Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.

The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.

The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.

Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.

The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…

“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!

“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”

“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.

—————————————————

Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!

A Hairy Remedy

Mark had been pacing back and forth all afternoon, waiting for the mail to arrive. He couldn’t focus on anything else, he’d been waiting weeks for this delivery and it was scheduled to arrive today. Every noise from outside had him rushing to the windows to peek through the blinds. Mark was nearly 30, yet looked barely 20. He’d endured a decade of people making fun of him for having a babyface or being too effeminate, and he’d had enough. After some research online he found some articles and testimonies about Rogaine, a hair growth cream aimed at guys who were balding. While that was the furthest thing from a problem for him, Mark found people on some forums that had used it elsewhere, who wanted to thicken up their beards and more. The before and after pictures he had seen had sold him, and he immediately went and ordered some online. 

He took a break from mindlessly pacing around to use the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror really illustrated how right his bullies had been. His skin was completely smooth, with barely any peach fuzz on his face. That would change soon, he thought, a beard would surely age him up a good bit. Not that he wanted to look old, but not being carded at every bar would be nice. The doorbell rang, and Mark tripped over himself trying to bolt to the front door. Yanking it open, he saw a small package on the mat, with the delivery van already speeding off. He quickly snatched up the box and slammed the door, giddy with excitement. Mark raced to the kitchen to grab the scissors, shredding the cardboard box open to reveal his prize. He held the tube of cream delicately in his palm like it was a newborn. This was it, his saving grace, he thought.

He quickly scanned the pamphlet that came with the cream, notably reading the line, “WARNING: This product has NOT been tested on areas outside of the scalp. We do not recommend usage anywhere besides the scalp, and cannot guarantee results.” Eh, he’d seen it work on guys online, it must be safe enough. Without further thought Mark dashed into the bathroom, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He felt a sense of power unlike anything before, knowing he held his fate in his hands. He nearly let out a comically evil laugh before realizing he was getting ahead of himself. It was just hair growth medication.

Mark opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream into his palm. Now was time for decisions. He probably should have thought this part through a little more, but no matter, he thought. He began to rub the cream into his face, making sure to stay in the lines of where a beard would grow. Starting with his upper lip, he massaged the cream into his bare skin, working from there down to his chin and then across his cheeks. The ointment was cool and tingled a little as he applied it. Despite his caution, while getting the underside of his jaw he heard a splatter. 

Looking down, he saw a white glob of the cream had fallen directly onto his chest. “Shit, that’s not good,” he cursed to himself. He grabbed a nearby towel before pausing. A smirk spread across Mark’s face as the thought dawned on him. Why not leave it? A little chest hair couldn’t hurt, he thought. The goal was to look a little older anyway. With a devious grin plastered on his face he started to rub the cream into his chest, most of it between his small pecs and spreading it out from there. Satisfied with the treatment he capped the tube and went back to the living room. Now came the hard part: waiting. He went back to check the package to see how long it would take.

“Four to six MONTHS?!” he wailed. He hadn’t bothered to look at a timeline or anything in his research, and this news was devastating to him. He’d expected it to take a while to work, but half a year? That was just too long. With an overwhelming amount of disappointment in his head, Mark collapsed onto the couch and turned on some TV. The rest of the day faded away as he tried to distract himself from how bummed he was. He turned in fairly early, it was Sunday anyway and he had to get up early for work the next morning. With one last glance in the mirror he confirmed that nothing had happened, and went to bed. 

The morning came in an instant, with Mark’s phone alarm wailing into the quiet sunrise until he rolled out of bed. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom and started getting his shower ready when he passed by the mirror and did a double take. He stared at his reflection, dropping his towel on the floor in shock. He had stubble. Not just a little peach fuzz, no, a decent layer of it all across his jaw. His hand slowly moved to touch it, to make sure it was real. His fingers grazed over the tips of the scratchy hairs, the prickly feeling sending shivers through his body. It had worked, overnight even! His grin widened as he looked down to see a dusting of hair on his chest where he’d rubbed the cream. He had chest hair! It wasn’t particularly dark or dense but that didn’t matter to him, he actually looked like he’d gone through puberty now. The hairs had sprouted in the center of his chest and spread out towards his nipples, growing long enough to start curling a little. 

With a renewed energy Mark hopped in the shower and continued getting ready for work. He was giddy with excitement, and couldn’t stop feeling the rough stubble on his face. He threw on his slacks and button down shirt and hopped in his car, nearly late from getting distracted so much. Thoughts were racing through his mind on the way to the office; what would people think? He walked in with a swagger he’d never felt at his job before, making his way to his desk and hoping someone would comment. It took until he and some coworkers left to get lunch for anyone to notice, however.

“Hey Mark, growing out a beard are you? I didn’t think you had it in you,” his coworker laughed. “It looks good so far!” he made sure to follow it up with. Mark beamed, someone had noticed! It was really happening. This may have been the best day of his life for all he could care. Anytime he was in private he would have one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, feeling the soft hairs. He could feel his cock jump at the sensation, pushing against his rather tight dress pants. Luckily no one could see that at his desk, he thought, moving one hand to rub down there. A couple other people commented on his new facial hair throughout the day, and Mark was ecstatic. This feeling was electric, addictive almost, he loved the attention and slight amount of respect the stubble seemed to have given him.

Before he knew it the work day was over and Mark scrambled to pack up his belongings to try and beat the rush. In the elevator down he scratched at his face, another grin plastered across his face. He had the classic 5 o’clock shadow for the first time, he thought to himself with a chuckle. A hardworking businessman he was now. He got entirely caught up in the rush hour traffic, but even that couldn’t put a damper on his day. An hour later he was home, walking through the kitchen and dumping his coat and bag. He entered the bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water on his face when he spotted the tube of Rogaine still sitting on the vanity. Mark stared at it, the elated feelings of the day still fresh in his mind. A thought began creeping up from the back of his mind, one that scared him, but also made his cock lurch in his pants.

What if I put on a little more? 

That was the end of it. The idea consumed him, and within seconds he’d torn off his dress shirt and was squeezing more cream into his hands. He spread a thick layer of it across his upper lip, feeling the stubbly hairs that now dotted the area. He then spread more out across his cheeks, which had a decent shadow of stubble across them. Next up was his chest. In the morning he’d been thrilled by the amount of hair now adorning the area, but now he craved more. He pushed more cream from the tube and spread it over a much wider area, from his nipples all the way up to his collarbone, and everything in between. Finishing that up, he realized he’d gotten some extra cream all over his hands, which he rubbed in without a thought. 

The feeling of mania slowly dwindled as he put the cream away and carried on with his night. As he ate dinner he began to worry that he’d gone too far, maybe he should have just waited. It was too late now, though, so he bottled up that worry and watched some TV before getting ready for bed. 

Mark bolted upright when the alarm sounded the next morning. He tore off his sheets and ran to the mirror to take a look at himself.

It had worked again! His stubble was thicker now, with a more pronounced mustache. The hairs on his upper lip were denser and longer, though the rest of his facial hair had also filled in somewhat even if it was still short. But the real showstopper was his chest. The hairs had spread far from the day before, crawling up his pecs all the way where he spread the cream. The hair was thicker, denser, and made him feel exceedingly masculine. He couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand over the more prominent chest hair, the soft hairs tingling under his fingers. His cock rose to attention in his boxers as he lost himself briefly in the moment, unconsciously rubbing his nipple with the other hand. Control slipping away from him, Mark began to moan as he pinched his nipple, feeling the stubble and chest fur that had sprouted. Moments later a rush filled his body, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum onto the mirror. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, coming back to his senses. What the hell was that? It had felt amazing, but it was as if a primal instinct had taken over him. He watched the cum slide down the mirror for a minute before snapping fully back to reality; he had to get to work! He quickly wiped as much cum off the glass as he could before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. He bolted out the door without eating breakfast, having realized how late he was. Just how long had he been feeling himself in there? 

He parked and scrambled to an elevator inside. In his haste he’d forgotten to button his shirt up all the way, but he noticed in the mirror that some of his new chest hair peeked out of the top. It looked masculine, virile even. He played with a couple of the hairs before the door opened on his floor and he had to act natural. The day was fairly uneventful, other than a couple different coworkers commenting on his stubble and mustache. Mark felt even more confident today than he had yesterday, despite the chaotic morning. As afternoon rolled around, he even unbuttoned his shirt a little more, letting the newly grown hairs breathe. He lounged at his desk getting some of his work done but mostly basking in his newfound masculinity, occasionally sneaking a rub of his chest hair.

Soon enough the day was over again, and Mark made his way home. He was thrilled with how he was looking, but somehow he’d gotten less attention today than before. That didn’t sit right with him. While stuck in traffic he tried to figure it out, going through scenarios and situations from the day. Maybe… he thought he was making progress but in the eyes of others he looked the same. Frustrated, he barged through the door of his house and grabbed a beer from the fridge before landing on the couch. He turned on the TV and cracked it open, slowly sipping away at it as the light outside faded into dusk. Finishing that beer, he went for another, nursing it and watching some mediocre movies. Eventually the beers caught up to him, and having to pee badly he hopped up and went to the bathroom. There, on the counter, was the tube of Rogaine.

It seemed to burn a hole in his vision, everything else fading away. The feelings of the last day flooded back to him; the confidence of being hairy, the frustration of it not being enough, the pleasure of cumming to his own hairy body. Mark felt the same devilish thought clawing back into his head, but no longer as a question. It was a desire.

I need more.

He opened the tube again, squirting the cream directly onto his chest this time, slathering it all across his pecs and down over his stomach. He rubbed the cream deep into his already decently hairy chest, before taking more and coating his face with another layer. Mark was spreading far too much cream on, and from his jaw it began dripping down his neck. He couldn’t care less. His logical self had taken a backseat, his body being driven by a deep seated need, a desire he’d been unaware of. Mark stripped off the rest of his work clothes and kept at it. He continued to smear the cream across his torso, spreading it from his chest up and over his collarbone onto his shoulders. He was so engrossed in rubbing the cream into his skin that he was oblivious to the slight itch that began cropping up under the thick paste.

Mark wiped the excess cream onto his forearms and stared into the mirror, breaths ragged. He’d worked himself into a sweat. The droplets streamed down his skin, pulling the cream with it. His eyes surveyed his wet, ointment covered skin for anything. That was when he noticed the itch. It had grown stronger, more prevalent over his chest as the skin began reacting to the heavy dose of cream laid on. Hairs started to push out of his chest, darker and thicker than the ones before. They grew longer as more and more filled in the spaces between. Mark’s cock grew harder as he watched the hairs sprout, feeling them coming in between his fingers. The hairs thickened into a dark rug, completely coating his chest and crawling upward, thick whorls of hair overtaking his collarbone. His neck, which had been bare until now, began darkening as the shadow of hair crept up over it. Long strands erupted from the base, continuing the chest hair up onto his neck; no collar would ever hide these dark hairs. His stubble crept down from his jaw to meet in the middle, growing darker and pushing out farther from his face. His nicely trimmed stubble was quickly becoming a scruffy mess, with the wiry beard hairs erupting all over his face. Mark used his tongue to feel the longer hairs pushing out of his upper lip, curling over and spreading over his cheeks. He was really tenting his boxers now.

The hairs began moving south, down from his chest in a line towards his navel. The thick line of fur blossomed outward across his belly, darkening the area with long tangled hairs that blotted out the skin. Mark rubbed his hand over the growing fur, groaning from the stimulation of the hairs under his hand. Without thinking he reached back for the tube of Rogaine, pushing more out into his hands before absolutely coating his pits in the stuff. He scratched and scratched as the itch spread from his chest there, looking like a monkey as near instantly thick black hairs shot out of his bare underarms. One after another they pressed out, his fingers clawing through a denser and denser bush. Soon enough they’d overwhelmed the area with a thick tuft of tangled hair, spreading even further to connect with the rug on his chest. Mark was overcome by the tingling feeling of hairs bursting from his skin, surrendering himself even more to what was happening. 

When he finally pulled his hands out of his pits they didn’t escape unscathed. The backs of his hands were coated with thick hairs, and as he pulled one up to his face to look closer he could see more worming their way out of his knuckles. The sight alone was enough for a glob of precum to shoot into his boxers. The hairs didn’t end there, however. They surged up his forearms, a tangled forest of black hairs erupting and growing dense. The same followed on his upper arms, connecting seamlessly to the dense fur coating his shoulders. He felt the signature itch of the hair growth spread from his shoulders down across his back. Turning in the mirror, he saw thousands of dark spots appear across his shoulder blade and race down towards his ass. Seconds later every spot erupted into thick curly hair, follicles pushing them out longer and longer. The mat thickened over his back as hairs curled and tangled together, especially right above his waistband. 

His body wasn’t done yet. Mark felt an intense prickling under his boxers and quickly pulled them down, scratching relentlessly at his inflating ass. He could feel as the prickles turned into wiry hairs, pushing out across his cheeks. He groaned as the feeling of thick hairs growing like fur in his crack was too much, shoving his hands in there to feel the thick pelt erupting from his skin. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt up his tight hole surrounded by a jungle of hair, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it before and leaking like a faucet. The fog he had felt absorbed in just that morning was returning, his body acting on its own in search of masculinity and pleasure. The hair growth only served to fuel that fire, spreading from his ass down his legs in a thick carpet over his thighs. The curls popped up from the skin, thickening as they pressed out from his skin into a fuzzy coating all the way to his feet.

Mark slid further and further into the recesses of his mind, intoxicated from testosterone as his body continued to change. His self-indulgence reached a crescendo as every other desire slipped away, flushed out of him through the faucet that was his dripping cock. 

More hair.

His hand reached for the tube again, emptying the last of it into his palm before reaching to grasp his rock hard cock. He slid his hand up and down, coating it in the cream and letting the rest drip all over his groin. A moan slipped out as he continued to pump his member, it slowly growing thicker and longer as it absorbed the cream. More drops of cream splattered into his sparse bush, Fertilizing the ground for what was next. Dark hairs began popping out of his skin, dark and thick. They pushed out longer than his old hairs, filling in the space between them rapidly. 

More hair.

His pubes erupted in mere minutes, a dense triangle of fur filling out his crotch, tangling and curling together as the scent of musk and ointment grew stronger. The hairs continued their conquest, reaching up to his stomach and out over his thighs. His balls swelled larger before becoming enshrouded in a carpet of their own. His cock continued pushing out longer as Mark pumped away, groaning as it grew thicker and more sensitive. 

He wasn’t done yet, as more and more hairs filled in all over, rugs connecting into a massive carpet of body hair. The hairs were ever crawling up the shaft of his massive cock thanks to the cream. Mark’s breathing had grown intense, groaning nonstop as instinct took over completely. One hand rubbing through his thick fur and the other edging him closer and closer to climax. He could feel the tingle as the hairs lengthened and thickened, coarse hairs rubbing against each other as they matted together.

He roared as everything finally peaked, his cock erupting with rope after rope of cum. It went everywhere, getting tangled in all his new grown fur. He continued pumping load after load out, an unbelievable amount of cum poured out of him onto his hairy body. He gasped as every pump of his cock sent immense waves of pleasure through him, squeezing every last drop of cum out. He let go of his softening member and moved his hands to his chest, feeling the sticky cum in all the hair. 

“Fuuuuuck yes…” he groaned as he rubbed the cum into his fur just as he’d done with the cream earlier. His bush was completely soaked with cum, and he could feel the hairs thickening as he massaged the area. All over his body, the cum served only to encourage even more growth, and quicker than the Rogaine ever had. Dark hairs pressed out between previous ones, covering him in a dense pelt that hid his skin beneath. Cum slowly dribbled out of his cock as the pleasure swept through his system. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, and Mark was brought back to the forefront of his brain. The primal instincts that had control for the past hour gave up their hold. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Black fur coated his whole body, cum dripped from patches all over him. His cock was now dangling at eight inches soft. He slowly moved his arms to feel the hair growing all over him, trying to process his reality. He only managed to get two words out.

“Oh, fuck.”

The New Cub

Jaden was a real estate agent in Denver, and quite a good one at that. He prided himself on that fact, having been the top agent at his firm for four years running. He was only 27 too, having gotten his license after high school with ease. Once he got that first commission check he never looked back. This had been a big week for him, closing a deal on a multi-million dollar house that was netting him a nice bonus. It’d taken a lot of work and effort, but as he walked into his apartment just hours after the signing he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d planned to take a few days off as a reward, some time to pamper himself like he deserved. He walked into his room, stripping off the well fitted blazer before undoing the buttons on his shirt. Water gushed from the faucet as he filled his tub with a warm bath and opened the windows, letting in that cool fall air. His belt and pants fell to the floor next as he admired his slim body in the mirror. 

Jaden was the ideal twink, with a tall and thin form that he kept supple and hairless with a meticulous daily routine. He slowly rubbed his hands down over his tight stomach, feeling the smooth skin he loved before sliding off his underwear. The warm water bubbled as he stepped in, sliding his body below the surface as water cascaded across his shaved legs. The tension in his shoulders melted away, the water sapping away the stress of the week. Birdsong echoed in through the open windows, and Jaden entered a state of pure relaxation. For all of five minutes, at least. Unable to be alone with his thoughts for too long, his long, near skeletal arm reached from the tub and grasped his phone. This may be his vacation but he sure wasn’t going to spend it at home relaxing.

He quickly opened up grindr. He glanced at the dozens of messages from the last few days but didn’t open a single one, opting instead to scroll and scroll, unsure of what he was actually looking for. Every few seconds he would get a tap or message, he knew his profile worked. It had for years, with his perfectly smooth and slim body appealing to a wide audience. He normally went for the tech guys who were in perfect shape, but that didn’t seem appealing today. Neither did a younger twink. He was about to put the app down when he got a message from what looked to be a guy in his late 30s, but in great shape. Good definition, and fully shaved, he noted.

“Afternoon gorgeous,” the message said, “got any weekend plans? Been looking for a handsome man to spoil a bit.” Jaden paused. Normally he didn’t care for offers like this, but he’d been unsatisfied from anything else so far. Plus, this was his weekend to spoil himself, why not let someone else help out? He typed out a response.

“Hey there :) Would love to be treated nice this weekend, what do you suggest?” He read it and deleted it all in disgust. “Thanks babe, I’d say I deserve a bit of spoiling this weekend, what's your offer?” he typed again, and then sent. A few seconds later a reply had already shown up.

“I’ve got a nice house with a mountain view, and I can promise the best meal of your life and the best sex you’ll ever have. Your choice for the details, of course,” the man said with a winky emoji. Not having to cook dinner was pretty appealing, and if it turned out to be mediocre he could always leave. It was just the first night of his time off after all. 

“Sounds lovely,” Jaden sent back, “Where’s this beautiful estate of yours?” A location appeared just seconds later. It was out in the western fringes of the city, a hefty drive. He knew the neighborhood though, and it was a nice one. Couldn’t hurt to give this guy a shot, he thought, rising out of the now lukewarm tub waters.

After a lengthy session of getting ready, Jaden set out for this luxury evening he’d been promised. The sun was already beginning to dip in the sky, promising a lovely sunset over the mountains. He pulled off the highway after about thirty minutes, navigating the twisting residential roads before finally arriving at a slightly secluded house at the top of a ridge. His first reaction was to how beautiful the property was, being a realtor and all. The view the man had offered seemed to be true, now he just had to test the rest of it. He checked himself in the rear view mirror, making sure his hair was tufted just right before stepping out into the cool evening air. He walked up the steps to a heavy oak door and rang the bell, hearing it echo inside. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as they approached, the door unlocked, and Jaden’s eyes went wide.

The man in the doorway was not the man he’d seen on grindr. This guy was a full-fledged daddy bear, older, fatter, and much, much hairier. He answered the door in just his tight underwear, showing off his large body that was completely coated in hair. Numerous tattoos were buried under the fur, barely recognizable. A thick salt and pepper beard adorned his face, which wore a wide grin.

“Well look at you kiddo, glad you showed!” the man said with a deep, smoky voice.

Jaden was taken aback, he’d never been in this situation. It wasn’t like the photos he saw were just a little out of date, this was an entirely different guy! At a loss of what to say, all he managed to get out was, “You… you’re not the guy in the pics!”

The man laughed, “Oh those photos, they were of my last project, don’t worry about them. Name’s Glenn. Why don’t you come in?” He took a step forward and reached out his hand.

Jaden’s brain was on red alert, he’d been catfished, lied to, and he needed to leave immediately. The old man in front of him was not at all what he was into, but that was the least of his concern at this point. What did he mean by ‘last project’? Why would he use pics that weren’t him? 

But suddenly, as Glenn stepped forward, a warm air washed over him coming from inside. It was smoky, almost rustic, but also smelled strongly of sweat and musk. His numerous trains of thought came to a screeching halt. He took a deep inhale through his nose, the smell dulling his senses in a way he couldn’t possibly notice. The outstretched hand looked so welcoming suddenly, and hadn’t he been promised dinner? The worries about the man were quickly fading, replaced by feelings of comfort. He took Glenn’s hand and stepped through the doorway without another thought. 

The inside of the house was larger than he’d expected, decorated almost in the style of a mountain cabin. It was cozy, with lots of bookshelves and wood paneling that had fallen out of style among his customers, but he strangely liked it here. Glenn led him through multiple rooms until reaching a large patio overlooking the mountains, the sunset still gaining colors in the background. Glenn sat him down on a large sofa.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back with some food,” he said before trotting back into the house. Jaden stared out over the vista, wondering briefly why he’d said yes, before that thought too fell out of his mind. His mind was relaxed, yet a little foggy, almost similar to the feeling of poppers. He slouched further into the cushions waiting for Glenn to return with whatever feast he’d prepared. He caught himself even drooling at the thought, which shook him somewhat out of his daze, he couldn’t be acting like that. Just then Glenn walked back out with a huge plate of lamb chops, still sizzling. He set it down on a nearby table and motioned for Jaden to join him.

He sat down at the table and looked over the spread Glenn had prepared. The man hadn’t lied, it was an impressive feast. Jaden usually didn’t eat red meat but something about tonight felt different. As soon as Glenn sat down that same strong scent returned. This time it was more pungent, more reminiscent of the smell of sweat, and it made that foggy feeling return stronger than it’d initially been. But Jaden forgot about it when Glenn looked over with a smile.

“I think you’ll like this, son, it’s a tried and true family recipe after all!” he exclaimed before digging in. The word son rang in Jaden’s ears for a moment before he too dug into the food.

Despite his previous aversion to red meat he scarfed it down; it was absolutely delicious. He barely had time to speak in between bites, but Glenn didn’t seem to mind, watching Jaden devour the meal he’d prepared. Soon enough, his plate was empty, and Glenn admired the bulging stomach he could see pressing against Jaden’s tight shirt.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” Jaden said between burps. What was going on with him? First eating all that food and now burping like some degenerate caveman? But he was far past caring, already entering a sort of food coma. Glenn got up and went back to the couch, gesturing for Jaden to follow. He did so eagerly and tucked himself under Glenn’s open arm. Jaden would have never previously hooked up with a bear, but he was surprised to enjoy the feeling of a large furry body embracing him. Even more surprising was how obviously his dick sprang to life in his pants when Glenn’s hand dipped under the fabric. Glenn pulled Jaden closer to him, smiling at him as he stealthily attached a testosterone patch on Jaden’s back. It was time to see how far he could take this one.

The combination of Glenn’s powerful musk and enormous meal had Jaden completely subdued, ready to accept anything. His thick hands glided over Jaden’s smooth skin, sending shivers through his body. No other guy had been this effective with just his hands. Glenn ramped it up from there, kissing up and down Jaden’s body, feeling him shudder with pleasure. He rubbed his own hairy body against Jaden’s hairless one, subliminally inflicting him with desires yet to be realized. He couldn’t wait to see what Jaden would become. The next few hours were a blur as the sun fell below the mountains and the stars lit their passionate embrace. Glenn edged Jaden for hours, keeping him on the brink of ecstasy. He could feel the prickle of hairs as they began resurfacing in Jaden’s shaved groin. Finally after hours he let Jaden finish, spraying cum all over his slim body. Glenn massaged it into his skin as they cuddled, and Jaden passed out shortly after. That was just the beginning, Glenn thought to himself as he applied another patch to the sleeping Jaden’s body. 

Jaden arose the next morning to the smell of breakfast in the making; Glenn was preparing another feast for him. His body was still sore from the night before, causing him to groan as he got out of the bed. Glenn poked his head into the room.

“Morning, handsome,” he said with a chipper voice, “food’s almost ready!”

“I appreciate it but I should probably head out,” Jaden replied, looking for his clothes on the floor.

“Naw, what’re you sayin’ that for? We’ve got plenty more time,” Glenn assured him, stepping further into the room. That same familiar musk washed over Jaden again, and just like that he was more agreeable.

“You’re right, and I’m starving,” he said with renewed energy. Glenn came back moments later with a platter stuffed with waffles, bacon, what must have been a dozen eggs, and more. The urge to stuff himself again took hold of Jaden, who tore his way through the breakfast. Glenn watched with a grin, seeing Jaden’s belly puff out just a little more than the night before. They spent the rest of the day cuddling, making out, having more sex. Jaden was in heaven, not noticing when Glenn applied new patches to his back after the first ones had fallen off. His thoughts about getting back to his apartment faded while Glenn’s thick scent fogged up his head. It all felt so good, why would he want to leave?

That evening they showered together, Glenn’s sweat covering Jaden along with his own cum. He sensually washed Jaden’s body with his custom soap, scented like pine and infused some ingredients to encourage hair growth. He felt up and down Jaden’s body, noticing some areas that weren’t quite so smooth anymore. Hairs had begun to surface not only in his groin, but across his thighs, and even on his chest. Just small pinpricks for now. As they were drying off afterward Glenn placed another patch under Jaden’s shoulder blade. He also noticed how Jaden’s previously boney frame had softened just a tad. 

The days continued to pass in a similar manner, Glenn and Jaden spending every moment intertwined as Glenn slowly but surely molded Jaden. He was changing day by day from the definition of a twink to something else. Brown stubble sprouted sparsely across his chin and lip, his chest had begun to push out into soft pecs adorned with their own fuzz. His previously shaved armpits had stubble pushing out, with new hairs joining each day. His similarly shaved pubes were returning with a vengeance, growing in quicker and spreading further than they ever had before. Fat was clinging to his thin frame, he was filling out. 

As Jaden’s body hair started coming in, Glenn would spend more and more time rubbing his hands through it. It was an electric feeling for Jaden, he’d never known it could feel that being hairy. And he was slowly craving it more and more. Glenn continued putting testosterone patches on him as well as a number of other products he’d tried with other guys before. He wanted this cub to be perfect. Jaden’s vacation had long passed but he was oblivious, forgetting more and more each day about his previous life as he dedicated his new one to Glenn. Every day he rubbed against Glenn’s weathered, hairy body and desired it all for himself. He loved the attention, being spoiled and cared for. He didn’t even notice that every meal was huge to ensure he packed on the pounds quickly. 

Days turned to weeks, as Jadens body continued to mold to Glenn’s form. Glenn decided it was time for more progress, and introduced Jaden to his home gym. He slowly introduced a routine before pushing Jaden harder than he’d ever exercised in his life. Glenn took pride in having some strength under his gut, and he wanted his cub to have some solid muscle too. That’s when the testosterone patches turned to injections. Stronger and more effective, Glenn was pushing his cubs transformation into full gear. 

The thin wisps of hair that dotted his chest thickened and multiplied, with larger pecs pushing out as well. The chest hair spread out from his nipples and up towards his neck, and even out towards his shoulders, connecting with the pit hair that had really started to sprout. What had once been a smooth shaven pit was now erupting into a forest. The hairs darkened, grew coarse and wiry, and really began to hold his sweat in. Between that and the workouts Jaden was starting to produce his own sweaty musk at a rapid rate. His beard also grew denser and darker, peach fuzz flooded with testosterone until it became real fur, pushing out of his face. Every day the hairs grew longer, darker, and Glenn was there to feel it all, stroking his cub’s growing beard as it came in.

Each day for Jaden began to follow a pattern; he ate plenty, worked out for hours, and was intimate with Glenn for the rest of it. He would do daily testosterone injections and used Glenn’s hair growth wash. He had grown to love what was happening to him, with continuous positive reinforcement from Glenn, who would comment on his progress. He would point out during sex how much larger his cock and balls had gotten, immediately giving Jaden an erection. It was true though, what had once been a thin six inch cock was now pushing past eight and as thick as a beer can, with balls the size of lemons dangling below. 

His pubes had hit the same growth spurt. What had once been a small shaven patch had erupted into a verdant jungle of hair. Over the weeks they had pushed out slowly, growing darker and curlier, tangling together as more and more hairs pushed through the skin and sprouted out. The bush spread out from the base of his cock, coating his entire groin and reaching up to his stomach and out onto his thighs. His massive balls received their own dense fur coat; the wiry hairs so thick you could barely see through the forest. Hairs had even started climbing up his shaft, giving it an almost animalistic look. Glenn loved this, edging Jaden for hours every day playing with his thick pubes and enormous balls. The hairs blended seamlessly up to the rug on his chest, coating his continually growing belly in more and more hair. 

Jaden had put on so much size that his clothes no longer fit. Glenn of course supplied him with everything he could want, though he rarely wore more than just underwear. He loved the way a tank top looked while working out, his gut pressed tight against the fabric while still showing off his hairy chest and shoulders. His forearms grew thick with muscle as fur coated them as well. His thick thighs met the same fate, with hair sprouting all the way down to his feet. His beard thickened further and spread higher up his cheeks, leaving him with a dense covering that tangled with Glenn’s own when they kissed. His body had doubled in size, with those workouts giving him a solid muscular frame. Glenn made sure that was still softened by plenty of chub though, stuffing his cub at every meal. 

Fall changed to winter, and Jaden was nearing perfection as Glenn’s cub. They were inseparable, spending every day together as Glenn pushed the cub to be the best he could be, perfected for his own enjoyment. Jaden was enamored with his daddy bear, aware of the changes he’d undergone but not worried about his past self. As snow began to fall outside, his new mass and fur coat kept him warm even when outside, since he rarely cared to put on a coat. It was even better for snuggling by the fire with a full fledged bear, one who promised to only make Jaden more and more like himself. Jaden was now a true cub, in love with his daddy bear and looking forward to a life of growing. 

Hey hi! I've heard you've got some kind of offer or sale going on, not too sure what its about but I'd like to buy your services. My best friend is a bit of ladiesman jock type and he keeps complaining he can't find a good relationship. So I wanted to know if you could maybe turn him into less ladiesman and more men's man, maybe daddying him up a bit? So i could maybe get a chance with him, and he'd get the relationship he wants.

Subject: Order #100714

Dear Dopple,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100714 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Daddy_From_Friend(Best;Jock)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Expect delivery in 3-5 days. Please note that joint delivery is expected.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

It was only a few days later when you heard another notification come through from The Spiral. At the same time, you hear a knock at the door. You were glad for the interruption. It was nice to head over to your friends’s apartment and hang out for the weekend. But if you had to listen to him complain again about how tough the dating market was for a white, straight, good looking guy like him you were going to scream. Glancing at the notification for a package delivery to this address, you realize that it is probably about time for the show to begin. No need to interrupt the process. You dart into the restroom as you hear him pick up the package. As you close the door, a rip is heard outside, and as you lock it, a faint poof is heard. A faint fog creeps under the door crack. It smells like fresh grass and sandalwood. Another notification comes through, as The Spiral provides you with product details:

Due to selected target changes, we have elected for our rapid delivery transformation system to best meet your needs. Upon receipt, subject will open box and full product delivery will commence. A dense cloud of product will be released directly onto target and rapidly absorbed. Your friend will age to around 35, with associated physical changes. His previously smooth, young body will change rapidly. Skin is expected to tan, hairline recede, muscles grow, and body and facial hair develop. As the product is breathed in, expect tastes to change. Your new friend will prefer whiskey and beer drinks, along with the occasional cigar. As mental changes set in, they will find themselves drawn to care and maintenance hobbies, like regular workouts, yard work, renovations, cars, and sports. He will be drawn to jeans and beat up tennis shoes or boots, and only prefer to wear a polo when they must go into the office. At the same time, his mind will be filled with images of men. Men staring at him. Men holding onto him. Men worshiping him. This will start the final change, a libido adjustment. He will feel a deep need to fuck, to control his partners, and leave his seed planted deep inside them. The added girth and heavy sack will ensure he never underperforms. As he adjusts and embraces his new personality, he will settle and seek a single partner to fulfill his needs.

Thank you again for choosing The Spiral

You finish reading and unlock the bathroom door, running from the upstairs bedroom through your friend’s spacious house to meet him on the porch.

He is standing on the porch, a box still in hand, just as described. You didn’t know he could be more handsome, but he has aged like a fine wine. He takes one look at you and simply holds out the package in his hand,

“It’s for you.”

For you? You check the label and he is correct. You grab the box and he crosses his arms, waiting. Unsure what is inside, you open the package.

“Ah, good. Been waiting for these,” he snatches it from your hands and inspects the well-worn frames. You try to turn away, but he catches you in his arms,

“This should make you behave.” He takes the sunglasses and sticks them on your face. In an instant, the world is dark. And then a pair of screens flicker to life. As spiral fills your vision, you try to take them off. But your friend is holding you tight. You can’t resist it’s allure for long. It’s right. You do feel so sleepy. As it counts down from ten, your body begins to sway and relax. But you can’t bring yourself to mind. The spiral knows best. You fade away, held in the warm embrace of release and the strong arms of a man…

You come to laying in a bed that feels familiar and foreign all at once. You scratch at your beard and inspect the scene. Lube is left open on the bedside table. Tank tops, jeans, and boxers are strewn over the floor. A pillow is still wedged under you. Heh, still got it. You wander downstairs as you stretch your muscles and rub some sore muscles from the night before. You find him in the kitchen preparing some eggs. Your love. Your master. Your beast in the sheets. You sneak up behind and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Stop, you’ll make me burn them.”

You don’t listen. You plant a kiss on his cheek. He turns around, spatula in hand, and smacks your ass.

“Act your age, boy.”

Something in that statement hits a trigger. You remember something. A younger body. Slender, taut, pale. A firmer mind. Less corruptible, less controlled. Then, you feel an arm around you.

“You okay, cuz you look faint. Don’t break a hip old man.”

You stare at your husband and the world comes into focus. He smirks and gives you a little growl, and you swoon a little in his arms,

“Give daddy a kiss,” he commands.

You lean forward, pressing your hairy chest against his, and love on your husbear.

“I’m going to finish these eggs. Go set the table and look cute,” he says with a wink. You walk off, dizzy for a new reason. You ignore the buzz in your pocket as you get ready for breakfast.

Subject: Order #100714 Fulfilled

Dear Dopple,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

Could you turn me into Santa Claus? I want my cookie cravings to make me fat, furry, and bald. I’ll grow a massive white beard and my body hair will lighten to match. Ho ho ho!

It’s officially winter, and snow is starting to fall outside as you sit by the crackling fire. The smell of fresh cookies wafts in from the kitchen; you’d put in a roll of store bought dough earlier. With your stomach already growling you hop up and pull them out of the oven. The smell is intoxicating, and you set out to cool, barely able to make it a couple minutes before you grab one and stuff it in your mouth. The sweet and salty dough alongside the bittersweet chocolate is exactly the flavor rush you needed. You head back to the fireplace and leave the rest of the cookies to cool, letting out a burp. When you sit back down, your belly jiggles just a little more. As you scroll on your phone, your average frame starts growing a little heavier. You sink further into the plush chair, weighing a few pounds more. Your stomach growls again. You swear you just ate, but maybe the cookies are cool enough by now. In a few seconds another large cookie sits in your hands as you devour it. Without even noticing, another five pounds adds itself to your belly. A number of wispy hairs poke out of your smooth chest as you stuff the remains of the cookie down your throat. They’re unbelievably good, but you should leave some for later. 

Well, maybe just one more, you tell yourself as you grab another, chowing down as you walk back towards the fire. Your belly grows more, and your pecs soften as they push out slightly. Your thighs grow a few inches and your jawline starts to lose its definition. A slight shadow inches down across your jaw and over your upper lip as peach fuzz darkens and thickens. Your stomach rumbles as more and more fat begins loading itself on your frame, your arms and legs plumping up, muscle growing in but quickly buried beneath the chub. As you finish off the cookie your body starts to itch. The wispy fuzz across your chest begins to grow thicker and darker, new hairs popping up across the expanse as your pecs sag even more. Dark hairs sprout across your chest and spread up and over your shoulders before your still growing belly is also buried beneath the growing pelt. Your armpits tingle as wiry hairs blossom and quickly become a sweaty tuft of hair. Your slight stubble follows suit, follicles pumping out long dark hairs as the covering grows dense. The hairs pushing out of your cheeks keep going, multiple inches long. Even your arms and legs start growing their own fur, with dense black hairs across your forearms and crawling out of the backs of your hands. Your belly adds another few inches as it starts to hang fully over your waistline. You let out a thunderous belch as you sink further into the chair, rubbing your hairy belly as your shirt rides up on it.

A few minutes later your stomach growls again. It just won’t give up today. With some significant effort you hoist yourself to your (now larger) feet and head back to the kitchen. There’s still quite a few cookies sitting out, and right as you look at them your stomach rumbles. You swipe two and cram them down your gullet. Your thickening fingers make them look small, so eating two isn’t a big deal. Immediately your gut springs forward another inch, the hair on it thickening and growing longer. The hair in the center of your chest thickens, hairs curling together as your beard reaches down towards them, pushing out longer and longer. Your hairline begins to inch back, revealing more of your forehead as you scratch at it, oblivious to the changes. This isn’t the only thing adding years to you though, as the black hairs in your beard one by one start to lose their color. The bright white spreads through your bushy beard and mustache, both of which are still pushing out of your face, and spreads up to what little remains on top of your head as male pattern baldness accelerates. You eat another couple cookies, absolutely cramming them into your mouth to try and satisfy your body. Crumbs go everywhere, getting trapped in your thick beard and falling into the rug of hair coating your chest. As soon as the crumbs touch the hairs they too go white, the bleaching effect spreading across your moobs and belly. Your gut continues to grow larger and larger, fat piling on as you finish off the last of the cookies. With a final belch the rest of the fur across your body turns white and your beard shoots out another inch. You really do look like Santa now, just in time for the holidays.

Artist to Athlete

Theo had arrived home for thanksgiving after his first few months of college. He was excited to see family but at the same time dreading some of those interactions. Namely with his father, Nathan, who had been against him going to art school from the very beginning. Theo had always had a bit of a tenuous relationship with his dad, but this had been the final straw. Nathan was previously the football coach at a state school, and had wanted for his son to follow in his footsteps there. Theo was expecting some serious judgment once he walked through the door, especially once he started talking about his work.

He opened the door and announced his presence. His mom came running with tears in her eyes before hugging her darling boy. She was already talking up a storm with him, how much she missed him, everything that he’d missed, etc. After pulling himself away for a moment he lugged his suitcase upstairs to his old room, still exactly as he left it. He took a few minutes to lay out his stuff before heading back down. Nathan was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Nice to see you again, son,” he said in his typical gruff tone.

“You too, dad,” Theo responded, trying to at least put some warmth out there on his part. His father smiled and pulled out a baseball cap, one from his alma mater. 

“I found this while cleaning out a few weeks back,” he said, handing it to Theo. “Thought that if you’re gonna follow your path I’ll at least give you a little piece of mine.” It was honestly a rather nice gesture. Theo didn’t love baseball caps but it felt like this was his olive branch, and he accepted the gift and put it on. His father smiled and went in for a hug, unusual for the normally macho man, but Theo wasn’t complaining here. Nathan released him from his iron grip and retreated back to the den where the game was on. Theo sighed with relief as the worst case scenario had already been avoided, and went to the kitchen to help his mother with dinner. 

Once out of sight, a devilish grin emerged on Nathan’s grizzled face. That hat had been worn by one of his best players while he was still coaching. Soaked with years of sweat, testosterone, and who knows what else. He hoped that it would change his son for the better, make him into more of a real man that he could be proud of. And Theo had taken it, no questions asked, it was perfect. He settled down into his recliner, the noise of the football game on the tv washing over him.

The rest of the night was uneventful, a small family dinner where Theo got to talk about his semester and classes. Nathan sat opposite his son, trying not to stare at the cap still adorning Theo’s head. It was only a matter of time, he thought to himself. Theo was just relieved the house was civil, and he could actually relax during his break. He’d spent all day driving and was exhausted, so he called it an early night after dinner and headed upstairs. He took off the cap and hung it up, not noticing the layer of sweat it’d left on his head. 

Despite it being November, Theo’s room felt unbearably hot. He tossed and turned underneath his comforter before casting it off and laying exposed on his bed. He was sweating up a storm, soaking the sheet beneath him as he tried to stay cool. Unbeknownst to him, his body was working in overdrive thanks to the cap. His thin frame slowly began to grow, bony limbs plumping up with the slightest bit of muscle. Theo rolled the other way as sweat dripped down his chest, soaking into the skin. 

Before long, thin wispy hairs started to poke out of the center of his chest. At first it was just a few, light delicate things barely visible, but they began to spread. The hairs pushed out of his chest, growing darker and longer as they climbed up towards his collarbone, leaving him with a smattering of chest hair. His pits itched as the same long brown hairs broke through the bare skin he’d always known, growing and gathering into a thick tuft. He was starting to look like some guy you’d see in a high school locker room, but his body wasn’t done yet. The testosterone levels inside Theo slowly crept upwards, his balls swelling just a tad. His cock twitched under his boxers as hairs began rearing their heads across his groin, his sparse bush growing rapidly into something respectable. The hairs spread like weeds, covering his groin and spreading up towards his navel, thick brown hairs pushing out and tangling together. His thickening bush and pit hairs began to catch some of that sweat, giving Theo a hint of real body odor for the first time in his life. The peach fuzz on his face thickened, darkening as the follicles were doused in hormones. Soon enough it looked like dirt had been smeared over his upper lip and chin, with some sparse hairs emerging on the sides of his face. He rolled over again, letting the sweat drip through all his new growth.

Theo woke the next morning with a blistering headache. He instinctively reached over to his side table, grasping for the baseball cap that he’d hung up in the closet the night before. He rolled out of bed with a grunt before grabbing it. As soon as the cap was on, his headache subsided. Theo headed into the bathroom to piss, not noticing the changes to his body in the mirror. In just a baseball cap and boxers his mildly hairy chest and pits were on full display as he mindlessly scratched at one of his pits. Without a further thought he tossed on some clothes and headed downstairs.

His mom had made a full breakfast, and Nathan was at the table waiting for him.

“Rise and shine, son! It’s only what… 11 already?” he joked. Theo rubbed his eyes, he’d slept in that late? 

“It’s my vacation, give me a break,” he retorted, before sitting down. Theo demolished the food in front of him. He usually was never too hungry but he just couldn’t get enough of it today. After scarfing everything down he let out a belch, at which his father cracked a grin. Nathan could see the dark smear on his son’s face. The hat was working.

The rest of the day was fairly unremarkable; Theo hung out with his mom and showed her some of his recent works, though he felt like he was forgetting some of the details he liked to tell about them. His clothes felt a little tight as well, his shirt was constantly riding up, and he was strangely itchy. Every time he thought more than a second about that though his brain would fog up, and Theo would lose his train of thought, only scratching at the cap on his head.

Nathan was in the den in his recliner, watching football for most of the day. Every time Theo walked past his curiosity was piqued, and by the third or fourth time he stepped in to ask about the game. Nathan could barely hide his excitement, and eagerly chatted with his son about the team, their plays, and some statistics. Theo’s eyes glazed over for a few minutes before he snapped out of it and excused himself from the room, mindlessly scratching at the stubble growing thicker on his face.

By the time Theo was headed to bed his body had put on some serious mass. He could barely get his tight t-shirt off at this point. He finally pulled it off as seams tore in spades, revealing his newly muscular body. What had been just barely above scrawny was now packed with size, his pecs defined above his defined abs. His traps, shoulders, and biceps were all swelling with size as well, veins engorging as his body continued to grow. As he stared in the mirror his thoughts drifted back to the football game his dad was watching, oblivious to the thick hairs erupting across his pecs. The mild scattering from the night before was spreading, hairs popping up like weeds across the growing expanse of his chest. The hairs darkened and thickened as they wove together into a furry rug, spreading up over his collarbone and shooting down his abs, his stomach hair conquering more and more of his torso. Over the course of the day a dark shadow had spread across Theo’s face, and that shadow was now blossoming into a short but thick beard. Stubble pushed out across his upper lip and cheeks, darkening as gaps filled in with more and more hair. He grunted as he scratched the growing beard, before heading back to his room and climbing into bed. His feet now nearly hung over the edge of the bed frame. Theo took off the baseball cap and set it on his nightstand before promptly passing out.

Theo's eyes slowly opened as sunlight poured into his room, illuminating his large furry form. The bed creaked in strain as he rolled out of it, before grabbing the cap from the nightstand. As soon as he put it on he felt less tired, more alert, and ravenously hungry. Before he could head downstairs he checked his closet for something to wear for the day. For some reason, nothing in there would fit over his broad shoulders. He heard a knock at the door and spun around. There, standing in the doorframe was his father.

“Thought you might need some new clothes, son, think of it as an early Christmas gift,” he said, holding a tank top and gym shorts in his hands. Theo didn’t question why his dad was prepared for this moment, rather he graciously accepted the gift and threw on a black low cut tank. His new muscular form was clearly evident in his new clothes, shorts tight against his thick thighs and his lats protruding out from the tank. Nathan looked up and down at his son, a wildly different man from the one who arrived home days before. But he also knew the cap wasn’t done with him, and he grinned as they both walked downstairs.

Theo scarfed down yet another meal, feeling his stomach press against the tank top. He wanted to talk more with his mother, but he was having trouble remembering what about. His college work seemed so uninteresting to him now. After some awkward chit chat he found his father as normal in the den with more football on. Theo stepped in to join him, plopping down on the sofa as knowledge about player stats began welling up in his head. He eagerly began talking with Nathan, the conversation flowing smoother than it ever had in the past as they laughed over plays on the tv. 

As minutes and then hours passed, Theo felt the air grow warm and stuffy in the den. His body began sweating profusely, nearly gluing him to the leather sofa. He unwittingly scratched at his pits, where sweat had created a rank atmosphere with the small tuft of hair. As he scratched, the hairs began to spread, pushing out of the damp skin. The hairs grew thick and wiry, tangling together as the tuft grew into a bush, filling his pit and bursting out the sides and even connecting to the pelt on his chest. His pecs and biceps seemed to swell but the hair outpaced both, making itself known regardless. The stench wafting from his pits grew intense as the forest of hair trapped more sweat and pheromones. Nathan noticed the change and looked over, only to catch his son scratching his pit and then sniffing the hand after.

Theo’s body continued to drip with sweat as he adjusted himself to try and get comfortable. There was a growing sensation coming from beneath his shorts, his groin tingling as his balls steadily began to inflate. They grew to two, three times their original size, pumping Theo’s body full of testosterone. From there things began to accelerate; his small flaccid cock perked up to attention, pressing against the cloth of his shorts as it pushed out longer and thicker. The silhouette continued to grow reaching nine inches, creating a wet spot in his shorts from precum leaking out the tip. Theo scratched at his groin, trying to relieve the discomfort as his moderately sized bush came to life, tendrils of thick curly hair erupting across his groin, swallowing up bare skin as they tangled into a forest. The hairs continued to spread far and wide, a tidal wave of fur coating his balls and racing back across his taint. His hole itched as thick hairs wormed out before spreading across his ass in a dense rug. The hairs continued their march down over his massive thighs, like dark weeds sprouting and tangling together. Hair continued to multiply, covering his legs and across the tops of his feet. Theo grunted as they pushed against his tight shoes, growing several sizes larger into the feet of a real athlete, complete with tufts of hair sprouting on his toes.

Theo’s body swelled even further, muscle packing on more and more before softening as he took on the form of a beefy linebacker. Sweat leaked from beneath the baseball cap as the fur coating across his body thickened, hairs sprouting between old ones. His mind felt foggy as the last remnants of his skill and interest in the arts was replaced by knowledge of football plays, hours of practice flooding in. His conversation with his father slowed slightly, as it took longer for him to think of solid arguments, vocabulary and eloquence dissolving in real time. He didn’t like to analyze other people’s games, he just wanted to get back on the field himself. 

In a newly deepened voice he complained, “Dad, I don’t give a crap about their commentary, let’s just get back to practicing.”

Nathan smiled, taking in the sight of his bulky, masculine son. “Call me coach, Theo. It’s important to learn these plays down to the smallest details so you can keep up that win streak.”

“I thought I told you, coach, it’s Ted, not Theo,” he grumbled in return. “But fine, let’s at least go out to the field and try them out.”

“Deal, son.”

The Sweat Guy

You had always struggled with excessive sweating, a condition that had plagued you since puberty. It wasn't just the usual places like underarms; every nook and cranny of your body seemed to turn into a faucet, drenching your clothes and filling your personal space with an unwanted odor. It was an embarrassing and frustrating problem that you constantly battled, with little success. The sweat seemed to have a mind of its own, ruining your shirts and making you self-conscious in social situations.

One day, as if your phone could read your mind, an ad popped up while you were scrolling. It was for a new line of antiperspirants, promising comprehensive coverage for all the sweaty areas of the body. The ad seemed too good to be true, but desperation had a way of making you willing to try anything. The thought of a solution that addressed not just your underarms but also areas like your feet, face, thighs, and even groin was tantalizing. You quickly searched for the nearest pharmacy and, grabbing your bag, set off with a determined stride.

The walk to the pharmacy was typical for you—by the time you arrived, you were already sweating heavily. The summer heat didn’t help, but the thought of finally finding relief kept you motivated. In the store, you found the products from the ad and eagerly grabbed the whole set. The price was surprisingly affordable, which felt like a small victory in itself. You clutched the bag of products like a treasure trove, imagining a future where you wouldn’t have to worry about sweat ruining your clothes or your chances with girls.

The idea that there could be antiperspirants for areas you hadn't even considered gave you a sense of hope. You had never imagined such a comprehensive solution existed, and the possibility of being sweat-free was exhilarating. You started the journey back to your apartment, feeling lighter and more optimistic. The thought of finally being able to meet people without the nagging fear of sweating through your clothes was almost too good to be true. As you walked, you couldn't help but smile at the prospect of a fresher, more comfortable future, with all your new goodies in tow.

Once you arrived home, you spared no time in going to the bathroom to apply each and every product. Opening the underarm product, you gave it a sniff. It smelled heavenly. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let the scent waft up through your nostrils, intoxicating you. Delirious from the scent, you lifted up your arms and rubbed the antiperspirant in your armpits, not noticing as the hairs grew longer and thicker, but also dried up, with years of stench dissipating.

The thick hair snaked its way onto your arms and down onto your hands, each finger growing thicker and longer, with your palm widening as it clutched the antiperspirant. The stick of product now looked comically small in your manly hand. Your chest swelled and pushed against your t-shirt while thick tufts of hair swirled around your nipples and filled out the center of your chest, enveloping your torso, which hardened with lean muscles.

Still in a daze, you grabbed the thigh cream, rubbing it all over your legs, which too dried up, but thickened with muscles and a forest of hair.

That’s a lot of hair… you hadn’t ever thought of yourself as hairy…

You dropped to the floor, your hands seemingly moving by themselves. The foot cream felt cool and smooth as you applied it to your damp, sweaty feet, massaging it into the skin with firm, deliberate strokes. As the lotion absorbed into your soles, thick, coarse hairs started to sprout from the tops of your toes and the tops of your feet, quickly spreading until they were covered in a dense forest of hair. You brought your feet up to your face, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was as intoxicating and invigorating as the scent of your armpits.

You placed your now-manly hands on the bathroom vanity. The muscles in your arms and chest rippled as you lifted your bulking frame up and toward the mirror. You grabbed the face cream and rubbed it all over your face. You felt a tingling sensation as thick stubble rapidly sprouted, covering your cheeks and chin with a rugged beard and mustache. Your vision blurred, adding to the already overwhelming scent-induced delirium. The world around you seemed to sway and warp, but you reached out instinctively, feeling around the side of the sink until your fingers found your glasses. Sliding them onto your face, the lenses helped bring the world back into focus.

Had you needed glasses before?

Still enveloped in a dense fog of scent and sensation, you fumbled for the groin cream, your movements slow and deliberate. You threw your pants down around your ankles, exposing your hairy legs to the cool air. As you applied the cream to your manhood, an intense warmth spread through you, almost like a gentle hand cradling and massaging you. The sensation was deeply comforting, creating a feeling of intimacy and care that was both strange and overwhelmingly pleasurable. The brain fog thickened, clouding your thoughts and senses, making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each breath you took seemed to deepen your trance, making it harder to stay upright. Your legs felt weak, as if they could give way at any moment. Yet, somehow, you managed to reach down and pull your pants back up, fumbling with the zipper as your hands quivered. You reached out for support, gripping the door frame with a firm hand, and began making your way through the house. Leaning against the walls for balance, you moved slowly, each step requiring a monumental effort. The strange desire to get outside, to feel the fresh air and test the antiperspirant, drove you forward.

You made it no more than ten feet before the effects of the groin cream intensified dramatically. It was as if all the sweat your body had ever produced was being expelled through your manhood in one overwhelming rush. The sensation was blinding, a searing wave of heat and pleasure that spread from your groin to every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed and your skin tingled, as if electricity were coursing through your veins. Hair shot out around your groin, leaving you with a massive bush that provided a cushion inside of your underpants. The intensity of the pleasure contorted your face into an expression of pure ecstasy, a mix of surprise and delight at the overwhelming physical sensation.

The rush of endorphins surged through your masculine body, a flood of pleasure and euphoria that seemed to reach every fiber of your being. Your once-smooth skin was now covered in a thick layer of hair, and your muscles felt firm and powerful. The sweet, intoxicating scent that clung to you. As the pleasure surged through your system, your mind seemed to shift. Memories of your previous life, filled with embarrassment and discomfort due to excessive sweating, faded into obscurity. You were the Sweat Guy.

One final burst left you breathless and drained. The sensation was so overwhelming that your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the ground, your body unable to handle the intensity of the transformation. Darkness enveloped you, and you blacked out, lying on the floor in a state of exhausted satisfaction.

When you awoke, you blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented but surprisingly calm.  Pushing yourself off the floor, you walked back to the bathroom, where you had left the products you had spent so many years perfecting.

Heading back to the kitchen with antiperspirants in hand, you grabbed your keys off of the counter. You were headed to a video shoot for the company's social media. After all, you were the Sweat Guy, and you wanted to make sure that everyone knew just how life-changing these products are.

Dude hot as hell blog and all that hair on the jocks..im a jock too but love to see what it be like as a hairy jock please?

You’ve been a jock for years, star of the soccer team, but you always saw these older guys walking around with hair poking out of their shirt collars and wondered, what if that was me? Well no more. After practice one day you stayed around the locker room after everyone left. The musky stench of sweat hung in the air as you eyed a leftover jockstrap on the bench across from you. In a moment of fervor, you grabbed it. It was crusty with cum stains and stunk of who knows what. You brought it up to your face and took a big inhale; I’m talking a huge whiff of jock stench. Your head was overwhelmed, a cloudy fog overtaking you as you fell back against the lockers. You feel an itch flare up in your armpits, upon raising your arm you see what was a modest tuft of light hairs thickening up. Your follicles mature as they begin pumping out thick, dark hairs that quickly begin to tangle together into a proper bush to catch all that sweat. Within moments you can smell your own odor growing more pungent. You lift your other arm to see the same sight, the dark curls of hair popping up and expanding outward, escaping the bounds of your pit. 

Fuck, thats hot. You reach in and grab at the blossoming coils, wiry hairs gliding between your fingers as you feel how thick they’ve gotten. Your mind and body are in agreement as your cock quickly stands to attention, leaving a growing wet stain on your shorts. You look down at your bulge and see the beginnings of a treasure trail poking up above your waistband. Your cock lurches, pulling the elastic band out enough for you to see into your underpants. Underneath, your trimmed bush was growing wild, tendrils of thick black hair expanding from the base of your thickening cock. The curls spread like wildfire, coating your entire groin in a thick musky jungle before climbing up your stomach. Your chiseled abs began to disappear beneath a growing layer of hair, strands shooting out and tangling together. 

The growth made its way up to your pecs, where in between the muscled mounds thick hairs began to crop up like weeds. They grew dense in the center of your chest as a shadow of stubble slowly graced your pecs. From those dark spots emerged a field of growth, thick curly hairs that sprouted across the open expanse of muscle and wove into a masculine rug. The hairs continued to spread, reaching out to connect with the bushes under your arms, and crawling up slowly to your collarbone. A thick tuft sprouted just in the center, always sure to poke out of your jersey.

Your body ached as muscles expanded. Your pecs puffed out more, traps and delts pushing out as your arms swelled with size. Your quads felt like they were on fire as they doubled in size, and your torso took on the shredded v-cut look. Atop those new muscular limbs, hairs began to pop out of formerly smooth skin. Your thighs grew a thick coat connecting up to your pubes, with calves pushing out a wiry rug too. Your feet popped as they grew larger with hairs popping up across your toes; you’re gonna need some new cleats now. Your ass feels sore as it tightens, a dense mat of hair coating both cheeks.

The hair on your collarbone continues its march, spreading out over your traps and shoulders. Your delts erupt with a thick coating of fur that races down your arms, biceps and triceps vanishing underneath. Your forearms tingle as an incredibly thick forest sprouts across them, climbing up the backs of your hands and fingers as you rub them through your fur. You feel an itch across your back and can only assume it’s been given the same coat as your front side. 

You look back up into the mirror to see your babyface shifting, jaw squaring up and hardening as stubble begins to crawl up your neck. Your cheeks itch as the shadow crests your jawline and climbs up towards your eyes. The dark specks quickly begin to gush hairs, follicles pumping out dark thick strands that bury your face beneath. Within moments a luscious wiry beard has uncased your jaw, and you look closely to see your upper lip is still bare. In your reflection you can see a solitary hair push out, lone and dark. Soon, another joins it, followed by several more. Your mustache fills as hairs flow like a waterfall, connecting to the rest of your beard and sealing your fate as the hairiest jock on the team.