Well, it’s important to remember that I didn’t lie to him–he’d come into my smoke shop, and he’d heard the rumors–guys like him always hear the rumors. That my smokes can…enhance people, make them more who they want to be. I get the wimpy, the small, the nerdy–and really all they want to be are men. Real men–and I am usually perfectly accommodating.
I mean, they always end up closer to what they want, it’s just that some of them, well, they come in with this attitude. They think they deserve to be men, that they were somehow slighted by the universe when it decided to give them this weak, hairless body they have now. I can always tell, when they come in, if they’re going to be grateful or not, and if not…well…
Heh, I have a little room all set up for them. You see, it takes a week of pretty constant smoke to reach the full change, and what sort of man you become depends a lot on what you do. If you work out that week? You’ll be a sweaty muscle bear. Hike in the outdoors? You might come back looking like Paul Bunyan. And the grateful ones, they get it–they craft themselves, but the ungrateful ones, well, I craft them myself.
Each one is a little bit different, but this one, well, he’s got the mask on so he can have way more smoke than normal–he’s going to be hairy as fuck by the time this week’s up. And keeping him bound up and unmoving? Pair that with the massive feeding sessions and he’s going to waddle out of here one fat fucking bear. But why the chastity device? Well, the cigars have a tendency to encourage…rapid growth down there, shall we say. Locking them up though–the sexual energy breaks down their minds–and keeps their cock small. No, the only satisfaction this dumbfuck will be getting is a good ass reaming every night. Yep, just my kind of fat ass bear slut–I can’t wait.