“Ok, look cute–not too cute though. Don’t want anyone thinking we’re too snotty.”
“I know dear.”
“Good…not good enough. Look away, over at something.”
“I don’t care, just–look like there’s something interesting going on, over to the side there. You’re with me, you love it, but there’s stuff going on too. Mystery gets likes.”
Good…yeah, that looks great.”
It was the closest Nate had gotten to an actual admission that he was in a relationship with Mark–well, with Mark and his instagram account. Everything had to be documented–and staged just right so he could keep building his followers. He’d spent an hour on Nate’s wardrobe just this morning–and he was already exhausted, and wondering if this was what he really wanted. Sure, he was hot, and internet famous…
Nate sighed, while Mark uploaded the photo. When it was done, Nate watched the likes, and follows, rack up on his own page something fierce. It did feel good, didn’t it? Then, much to his surprise, an email popped up in his inbox, from some company named Arctos. He asked Mark about it.
“Oh, some weird as company, keeps trying to get me to be an influencer for them. Don’t know why–I am so not their aesthetic. Go take a look.”
Nate went to the site–and sure enough, the page was full of big, hairy, bearded men–the exact opposite of them in most every way. Nate laughed, but couldn’t help but be a bit curious. A little later, while Mark was watching TV, he got back on his phone, and clicked the offer–just to see what they wanted. The screen changed into a swirling pattern of red and black-like flannel, but…so much more than that. It was fascinating, and Nate couldn’t look away from it, no matter how hard he tried.
“What the–who the fuck are you?”
Something shook Nate out of his focus on his screen, and Mark was standing there, looking at him with utter disgust…but he just didn’t understand. “I…Look at this offer man, I think…I think we could do this,” Nate said, his voice…deep, gravelly, and so sensual all of a sudden. He turned the phone towards Mark, and as soon as he saw the swirl of pattern, he too went blank…and Nate watched his twinky boyfriend start to grow, packing on muscle, packing on hair, a thick beard pushing out of his chin and cheeks…and fuck, did he look sexy as a bear.
Needless to say, Nate and Mark have never been happier, and the influencer deal with Arctos has been working out great. Of course, a lot of Mark’s followers were confused at first, how they went from following a slim twink to a burly, hairy, bearded bear…but the flannel he was wearing smoothed out their concerns quickly–and lots of them used the link provided to purchase the shirts for themselves. After all, who…wouldn’t want to be just like them, those two sexy bears in the photo?
Patrons at the $5 tier or higher get access to more captions in this series on my discord server!
But maybe you’re tired of daddies telling you what to do. Maybe, for a change, you want a daddy to do what you way. Someone more pliable, someone too weak to call the shots. A daddy who might look the part, but in the bedroom, he knows who’s really in charge.
A daddy like this one. See that slouch, the shoulders forward and back hunched? The tiny cock that can barely even get hard? The tired eyes that don’t really want to make contact? It isn’t that he’s broken–a broken daddy wouldn’t be very interesting for anyone. He does know his place however. He knows who’s in charge, and it isn’t him. He knows he’s a bottom, a punching bag, a hole, a whore even, if you have some friends over. That isn’t to say, however, that he isn’t going to change you.
You say you want to be in charge, but are you really ready for it? Do you have the patience for his simpering, his laziness, his fecklessness? Are you really ready to make every decision, and then watch him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t fuck up the directions you thought were so simple? Do you have the patience? How long until you lash out, until the belt is in your hand, and after the belt, the strap, and after the strap, the flogger, and after the flogger, the bull whip? He knows he deserves it, even before you do–and that makes you angry too. You’re so angry, angry at what he makes you do to him, angry at how good it feels, doing it.
When did you start wearing so much leather, and when did you get those tattoos? Your old friends slowly slide out of the picture, unused to dealing with someone so overbearing, and rude, and at times abusive, as you are now. You find some new friends, friends who understand your problems. Perhaps they have stupid daddies of their own, and you can have parties, and take turns with them all, enjoying them, berating them all. You do know this, however–this isn’t who you wanted to be, but it is who your daddy demanded you become.
I did a collection of four of these captions, for different kinds of daddies available through Arctos. If you’d like to read the rest, or have suggestions for you own, you can submit them on my discord server, available to all patrons who support me at the $5 tier or higher, over on my Patreon here!
Not happy with your current daddy? Arctos has the perfect solution, no matter what sort of daddy you’re looking for, from our broad range of models, we can make sure you have the familial experience you’re looking for. Perhaps you’re more interested in a daddy who you could just sit down and crack open a beer with. Or twelve beers with. This daddy doesn’t care as long as you both have plenty.
This daddy doesn’t judge you. He doesn’t care if your aren’t working, he doesn’t care if you’re a failure, he just wants you to be happy. He wants you to be able to relax. He’ll help you sort out your priorities real quick, convincing you to quit overworking yourself, and instead, focus on the simple pleasures of life, cracking open a beer on the couch with your dad, watching some sports, or some porn, and just jacking each other off all afternoon, and all evening, and all night, and all morning too, while you’re at it.
After all, this daddy doesn’t want you to worry about work, or responsibilities, or anything at all–he just wants you to relax. Under his guidance, you can be sure that all of your worries will melt away and disappear–that job you hate, that school work, the other friends and commitments in your life. You won’t want to get up from the couch ever again, and this daddy will be more than happy to make sure that you don’t have to–that you won’t even be able to, eventually.
After all, he loves you just the way you are. All seven, or maybe eight, hundred pounds of you. The stench rolling off of you from where you’ve been sitting on the couch for months straight. The fact that you just shit and piss yourself constantly. The fact that your brain is so empty that you can barely even understand what’s happening on the TV anymore. He loves you so much, and he’ll do everything for you, so that you don’t have to, so you can just relax, and relax, and relax, for ever and ever and ever…
When Brodie got the package, he was, admittedly, a bit confused. When he’d signed up as a tester for an underwear company, he’d been hoping for something a bit more exciting than, well, this. Inside the package was just a single pair of basic looking y-front briefs, in mock packaging. The label said they were part of a product line called “Dad Gear” from some company called Arctos. It certainly didn’t make him anymore excited to wear them, but his contract said that he had to test them out for 24 hours, and then submit his review online.
He pulled the briefs on, and was surprised that they were so comfortable. They had seemed a bit baggy at first, but the elastic helped keep them up well, and he stood there for a second, just…enjoying the feel of it, before wandering off towards the couch, completely forgetting to put on more clothes. It was the weekend, and he had a long list of chores to do–instead, he sat down in front of the TV, flipped channels, and settled on a sports channel, watching it raptly for half an hour, before getting up, going to the kitchen, and returning with a beer and some snacks that he started chowing down on.
Brodie woke with a start, hours later, in the middle of the night, still on the couch. The TV was on, now showing some late night infomercial, and he realized that he had to piss like a racehorse. He tried to get up from the couch, but it was…a struggle for some reason that he couldn’t quite pin down. Eventually, he managed to force his way up, tromped into the bathroom to piss, and then made his way back to the sofa, where he sat back down in his comfortable dent. As he sat, he let off a fart, and he chuckled to himself–then started flipping channels.
There wasn’t a whole lot on, but he found another sports something, a feature on wrestlers, and he found himself getting horny, watching the burly fellows grapple with each other. Before too much longer, he’d blown a wad right into the underwear, and not too long after that, he was snoring again, gut growing larger, more tattoos filling in across his body, forgetting all about his younger days. His review was, needless to say, incredibly positive, if also a bit lewd. He also went ahead and ordered some more products from the Daddy Gear line–it was right up his alley after all, just the perfect demographic.
Ken didn’t know how much time had passed for him, before he woke again. He was still in the gurnery he’d been in before, but he was in a different room–one without the machines observing his vitals, and the IV drip into his arm had been removed, and was bandaged up. He could still remember lying there in pain, Harris looking down at him from the side of the bed, and then he had passed out–he hadn’t woken up once since then, that he could recall. Had it been hours? Days? There was no window, and no clock–the room just had a mirror (most likely a one way mirror, he supposed), and a door, but he felt too exhausted to even try and sit up.
Something had happened to him, to his body. He could tell that much, just from how much everything still ached, from his face and mouth and nose, down to his legs and ankles. There was an odd smell in the room as well, something…like a barnyard, as well, and he could still hear the nightmarish cries of terror and pain coming from all around him, but they seemed sharper, or perhaps closer, than they had been. Finally, he lifted his head, looked down at his body, and screamed–or at least, he tried to scream. The sound was just as inhuman and horrifying as every other noise surrounding him in this place, but there was no other reaction he could have had, to the nightmarish body below him.
His torso was thicker, almost the size of a barrell, and was covered in thick, brown hair. The same with his shoulders and arms, and the muscles were so thick now. He raised one paw to his face, and from the short black claws, and the black pads where his palm had been, he realized that his arms, and his chest, were that of a grizzly bear. Below that, attached to his hips, the long brown fur shortened and grew mottled, a lighter brown and white, with thick legs and rump, all the way down to two massive hooves where his feet should have been–like a minotaur.
He swung the heavy legs off the side of the bed and sat up as best he could, facing the mirror on the wall, and there he could glimpse his new face as well–small beady eyes, a pig’s snout, heavy brow, floppy pink ears, with two bull horns also coming out from his temples–short, perhaps, but from the pain in his skull, they might still be growing. That left his cock, which had begun to slide out of his sheath, corkscrewing as it did, but massive–with a huge set of bull balls swinging below, and a bull’s tail swishing behind him on the bed.
Tentatively, he stood up, trying to figure out how to balance on his new feet, and when he did, the mirror in front of him clarified into a window, and there, watching him, was Harris. The rage that boiled up in him was terrifying, even to Ken, and he charged forward, slamming his horns into the barrier, but all he did was bounce back, and fall on his rear. Harris laughed–he could hear him through the intercom of the room, and then he said, “Well, pet, I must say that you’ve exceeded all of my expectations, and I think you’ll have a buyer, as soon as we tame you. Just relax–the faster to let go, the more I might let you keep of that old self of yours, instead of just reducing you to a stupid, docile beast.”
The mirror returned a moment later, and then it became a screen, projecting a series of colorful swirls and spirals, and before Ken could look away, his eyes were sucked into the pattern, his mind disarmed as words poured out of the intercom, telling him was a stupid beast he was, that he wasn’t human, that he was meant to service men, that he was a pet, that he was obedient, that he wanted to be this way, treated this way, abused this way, that he deserved it. Harris just watched, groping his cock, and went down a couple cells to one of the beasts well along the way towards being fully conditioned for release, and fucked the desperate animal, pleased with his newest acquisition, and eager to see just how readily the thing would debase itself for Harris’ pleasure.
I think this will be the end of Arctos: Mall for a little while, though I might revisit it again in the future. There will be a short intermission for interactives–I’ll have a new one to start next week!
Ken didn’t know where he was, when he woke up. All he was aware of was that it was mostly dark, it smelled like both his dentist’s office and a barnyard, and he could hear some…rather inhuman racket coming from somewhere around him, through the walls. The noises were disturbing–some of them were squawks and roars and howls, other sounds were like claws running across plates of metal, and some were even cries and moans of lust. He tries to sit up and get a better look around him, but he couldn’t–his wrists and ankles were shackled to the hospital gurney he’d woken up on, and looking up around, he saw that he was hooked up to all manner of monitoring devices, with an IV drip pumping into his arm.
He struggled for a couple of minutes, trying to get loose, but it was no use. He wasn’t sure whether he should cry out for help or not–juding from the sounds around him, he might not want anything else to know he was here. Where in the world was Harris, and what did this have to do with offering him some sort of job? In the end, he decided to stay quiet–this was just some…misunderstanding, he was sure. He just had to explain himself, and when Harris came back, he’d let him go, right? It wasn’t like he was some deranged psycho–why in the hell would someone like that be running a pet store?
It was quite a while before he heard the door to the room unlock, and then Harris stepped into the room–but he wasn’t wearing the mostly normal clothes he’d had on before. Now, instead, he was dressed head to toe in rubber, including a thick rubber apron hanging off his front. “There’s my newest test subject–I hope you haven’t been waiting awake too long. I had some other business and subjects to attend to, you see.”
Ken had been wrong–clearly, this guy was absolutely a psycho. He started struggling again, tugging harder at the cuffs as Harris came closer to where he was on the gurney. With one gloved hand, he immobilized the arm with the IV drip in it, and shoved a syringe into the receptacle, and after a few moments, Ken felt a wave of euphoria wash over him, and he fell back against the bed with a sigh.
“There, isn’t that better? That should keep you feeling nice and pleasant for a while.”
“What…what are you doing to me? What was that?” Ken moaned and slurred at him.
“Oh, that was just a light sedative, with some fun mixed in. This, however, is what you should be worried about,” he said, and hooked up a bag to the IV. It was a bright yellow liquid, and Ken looked at it, and then back at Harris. “You see, men have such…unconventional tastes these days. It used to be that a brainwashed boy was enough, but now, they want all of these features and oddities. It takes so long to get the mix right for a client, and I always need test subjects. If it works like it should, you’ll go to the client, if it’s off, well, someone else will purchase you at a discount, I’m sure.”
Harris hooked the tube from the new liquid into Ken’s arm. He tried to fight, but everything felt so…heavy all of a sudden, even his eyes couldn’t really be bothered to move around in their sockets, opting instead to just stare up at the ceiling. “That’s good, just relax–it’ll be painful, but that little cocktail will cut out the worst of it, or at least, it should. Still, what’s a little pain in the end? It will just make you stronger, I assure you.”
With that, Harris stood back and sat down with a tablet, ready to observe and take notes, and all Ken could do was writhe weakly, rolling up, watching that strange yellow liquid slide into his body, his arm burning first, and then the sensation spread throughout. It was changing him–but how?
Alright, Ken is going to become a chimera! But what sort of chimera is up to you–you can choose up to three options below, and the most popular ones will get incorporated into Ken’s new form. Here’s the bonus poll for patrons as well!
As Ken walked down the concourse of the mall, he was struck by how odd this mall seemed, filled with brands and stores that he had never heard of before in his life. He didn’t think that he was particuarly out of touch, but had the entire face of retail changed since the last time he’d been in a mall? How long had it even been–years, he supposed. There were bound to be a few changes, of course, but there were…well, so many dang male mannequins! And all the clothes they had on seemed way too revealing…and he was sure that one of them actually had a plastic cock hanging out. It was enough that when he saw something as apparently normal as a pet shop, he veered inside, just to try and find something normal.
But for Ken, he had always liked animals, and he’d kept all sorts of pets over the years–from lizards to cats to dogs, and even a parrot he, well, birdsat while one of his friends was on a cruise for a month. He had never imagined working in a pet store, of course, but then, he’d never imagined anything aside from working in the factory until he retired–he could do, well, anything he supposed, at this point. Why not try to find something he at least enjoyed somewhat? It couldn’t hurt to look around at the very least, so he stepped inside.
“Howdy!” Came the voice behind the counter, “Welcome to The Pet Stop–looking for anything in particular today?” Ken looked over and saw a hefty fellow behind the counter, wearing a leather apron, working on some inventory–maybe he was the manager?
“Hey, well, actually I’m looking for work–you wouldn’t happen to be hiring, would you?”
The man looked up from his papers, and gave Ken a glance, from head to toe, an odd look in his eye. “Have you been in here before? I don’t recognize you, I don’t think.”
“No, I–well, I didn’t even realize the mall was still here, honestly. Just…well, I haven’t really looked for work in years, and my son says most of it is online these days, but I guess I just prefer the old boot to the sidewalk method.”
“You know, I might have something for a fellow like you–why don’t we go back real quick, and see what the little animals think of you.”
That…seemed far too easy. Harris hadn’t even asked about a resume, or references, or anything like that. There was plenty of time for the formalities he supposed, so when Harris came around the counter and headed into the back of the store, Ken followed him down the aisle…but as he did, he noticed something strange.
These…were not the sorts of things you’d usually find in a pet shop–whips and floggers, mitts and…and tails? He wanted to stop and look at the merchandise a little closer, but Harris was walking too fast, and he didn’t want to miss his shot at a job.
“Alright, here we go!” Harris said, stepping to the side when the reached the back of the shop, and Ken stopped dead in his tracks. There were cages, like in most pet shops…but these were not the sort of pets he was expecting to see. They…they were people. Men, in fact, and all of them were dressed up in leather and rubber fetish gear, muzzles and masks strapped over their faces, and they all were, well, acting like animals, pacing back and forth, one “puppy” jumping up against the glass trying to get his attention, panting and barking with surprising realism through the bars.
“What–what the fuck is this?” Ken asked.
“It’s a pet store–what were you expecting?”
“That’s–this…this is fucking sick!”
Harris shook his head, “Oh, I get it–you’re still too new. Well, don’t worry. It just so happens I do have a job opening here, and you’re going to be perfect for it soon enough.”
Ken tried to run, but Harris was ready for him. He blocked the aisle, and tackled him to the ground–and Ken could feel Harris’ hard cock throbbing, even through the thick apron. After a couple minutes of struggling, Harris got the tranquilizer into Ken, and while he went down, secured him, and dragged him into the back, to get him ready for his new position.
The door opened, and it was exactly the person Marvin didn’t want to see–one of those mall rent-a-cop security fuckers. From the way the fat man in the uniform was panting out of breath, and the sweat marks under the arms of his shirt, it was clear he was the sort of officer who was more used to sitting in the office and watching security footage, than chasing anyone down. If Marvin was quick on his feet, he could probably outrun him–but in the tight space of the bathroom…there was no way he could get around him easily. He was going to have to be clever to get out of this.
“There you are,” the cop wheezed, “looks like I get to have my fun after all. And he said I’d never find you.” The big man leered at him in a way that made Marvin feel…rather uncomfortable, especially in his strange condition.
“Look, I–I don’t know what this thing is. Just help me get it out, alright? I don’t care what you do with it, I just want to get back to normal.”
“Normal, eh? Afraid I don’t know how to get you to normal–but you are going to come with me, and we’re gonna have a little chat, boy.”
The officer made a grab for him, and Marvin ducked out of the way, but couldn’t get past him. The officer took another swing and this time got what he reached for–the ring still in Marvin’s nose. He gave it a tug, and the thing…didn’t come out of his nose, but it grew larger, a second ring segmenting off from it, one that the cop put around his fat finger–and as soon as he did, Marvin felt…strange.
The colors swirling around his skin started to coalesce, becoming pictures and words–most of them having to do with being a mall cop, a pig, with…worshipping bit bellies and fat asses. His vision was going blurry, and his body was heating up–packing on muscle, in fact, and something else was wrong, in his head. It was like his brain was missing a few gears, running slower, making it harder and harder to think, until he collapsed on the ground in a heap–blacked out for a few moments, and came too after a bit, thanks to his bosses boot in his gut.
“Hey, you lazy piece of shit–get the fuck up.”
Marv rolled up, confused, and used the sink to help haul himself upright–but in the mirror…that wasn’t him, was it? The hulking muscle man, his body crammed in a tight mall cop uniform, his arms and neck a riot of tattoos, his face full of metal, a new buzzcut on his head. Hadn’t…he looked different, a moment ago? “S-Sorry Sir, I…I’m not sure what happened there.”
“Whatever–don’t worry about it. Just go get me my doughnuts, and then come to the office–I’ll be waiting.”
Boss left the bathroom, and Marv stared at himself a moment longer…but Boss had told him not to worry, so he didn’t. Instead, he headed out of the bathroom to the food court, got a dozen doughnuts (boss’ regular lunch order) and then took the box up to the security office. Boss was already there, stripped out of his pants, and sitting on his…special chair. A rimseat, in fact…and Marv found himself…drooling.
“Well, come on boy–you know what to do, don’t you?”
“Yes sir!” Marv said, set the doughnuts down, and crawled under the seat, where he could smell his Boss’ fat, sweaty ass, feel how hard his pierced cock was getting from the thought of cleaning it. Boss grunted and farted in the young muscle cop’s face, and grinned–serves a thief right, after all.
Ken was…down on his luck, but then again, there didn’t seem to be much luck to spare anywhere in down, especially not for him, and the other twenty guys who had just been laid off at the factory. Thankfully, he had a bit of severance from his union, but he…well, he needed a job, anything really, but no one was hiring. No one, except the new mall that had been redeveloped over the last few months. Ken looked around, copies of his resume in hand, and swallowed some of his pride. It wasn’t going to be…anything decent, but it was something for the time being, right? He could handle anything for a little while.
Marvin swung around the corner of the concourse, and looked around. He didn’t want to run into another shopfront, and the mall wasn’t busy enough yet to really have much of a crowd that he could disappear into. A short ways down, he saw a little alley in between two stores–probably for an emergency. He might get lucky if he hid there, and be able give the older guy who was chasing him the slip–or if the guy spotted him, he might be trapped. He decided it was worth the risk, and ducked into the little side path and around another corner–where there happened to be a couple of restrooms. He heard the sound of pounding boots as the clerk raced past his hiding spot, not even noticing that Marvin wasn’t out there to pursue anymore. He didn’t have a lot of time here really–the guy was bound to double back at some point and check everywhere a bit more thoroughly–but he had a couple of moments to look at his loot, if nothing else.
He pulled the ring out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands. He…didn’t really know why the thing had caught his eye in the shop–in fact, it hadn’t even been that expensive. He could have bought it, if buying things was what he liked to do. He tried it on his ring finger, but while it seemed to be the right size, it slipped right off into his palm again when he removed his fingers. He tried a larger finger, one he was sure would work, but again, it just…slid right off, almost like the thing didn’t want to be on his fingers…but that was ridiculous. It was just a ring–it wasn’t wanting anything.
He ducked into the restroom proper, where he could get a bit more light. In front of the mirror, he bent close to study the surface, looking at how…colorful the unadorned steel seemed, somehow. He bent closer, his face almost in his palm, when the ring moved suddenly, of its own accord, and latched itself onto his septum.
He hollered in sudden pain, a bit of blood running down his upper lip where the ring had pierced him. He grabbed onto it and gave in a tug, trying to get it off, but the ring was unbroken–he couldn’t find the joint, or the latch, or anything to show how it might come off of him. He tugged hard, and noticed that already the pain had died down–the piercing felt…normal, suddenly, like an old wound, not a fresh one, and as soon as the blood had started, it had stopped running entirely. He looked in the mirror, and sure enough, his nose was fully healed–what in the hell was going on with this thing?
He began to feel a bit…woozy then, and he felt another sting–in his lip this time. He saw a new ring burst out of his lip, wrap around, and join itself under his skin, and a barbell in his eyebrow followed soon after. He started scrambling then, trying to claw the metal out of him, but there was nothing he could do–the harder he gripped them, the larger they seemed to become, and they only multiplied–spreading over to his ears, and then down the rest of his body, where two metal rings appeared in his nipples, and lastly, a thick gauge PA in the head of his cock.
He pulled off his shirt to inspect them, but it wasn’t the rings that shocked him the most–it was what was happening to the skin around the rings on his chest. It was…ink–tattoo ink, he thought, but it was swirling, like in a pool, underneath his skin spreading out in a multitude of color, with no discernable pattern. It kept spreading out, down his arms, down his chest, up onto his neck, and when he opened up the fly of his pants and looked at his cock, the same ink was spreading there as well, and down onto his legs.
Before he could do anything else, however, the door to the bathroom opened–who was it who found Marvin in there?
As the candy melted away and was absorbed into Jeremy’s ass, the first hidden layer of the sizable asslicker could be seen, but Saul wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. It wasn’t until he brushed it with a gloved hand, and saw the surface lift slightly, that he realized that what was covering the surface of the dildo was hair. Jeremy smacked his lips once or twice, and grimaced. “Why does it…taste a bit like dog hair all of a sudden?”
“Guess he never managed to work out that little kink,” Saul said, and pushed the dildo in deeper, watching the surface of Jeremy’s skin for the first telltale signs of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, after a couple of pumps, he could see the first little pinpricks of hair appearing down Jeremy’s back on either side of his spine, fanning out rather quickly as they grew. If he was sprouting this quickly, and this thickly, he was going to be quite the hairy beast in a few minutes, once this layer was finished.
“What…what the fucking hell,” Jeremy moaned, looking at his forearm, where hairs were sprouting as well.
“Don’t worry about it too much, Jeremy, it’s going to feel perfectly natural in a few minutes, I assure you.”
“I…where the fuck is all this fucking hair coming from? What the fuck is that thing doing to me?”
“Well, you see, buried in each of these asslickers are a few different layers–and while they do all come with a signature flavor, they also come with other benefits too.” Saul ran one gloved hand up and down Jeremy’s furry back, and watched him shudder in surprise. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being hairy enough that you can be petted like a big fat dog?”
The hair kept coming, growing in thickest on Jeremy’s back, forearms, chest–and his beard. That grew in the fastest of any of it, and after two minutes, it was already two or three inches long, hanging down to the display case he was bent over, while his hands kept exploring his skin, feeling all of the hair everywhere, and surprised at how horny he was feeling as he stroked it.
When that layer finally finished, the hair was so thick in places that the skin beneath was difficult to see. Saul, however, was looking at the asslicker, ready to see what the next layer would be. The hair kept peeling away, and he could see something…fleshy underneath, like muscle. It…disappointed him a bit, to be honest–he had done such a good job fattening his customer earlier, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped.
Jeremy felt his body start to heat up, and there was a new taste in his mouth. Sweat, almost, and metal. His breath was getting quicker, and he could taste…exertion, somehow. It felt like the inside of his mouth after running a mile back in high school gym. The fat on his body–some of it, at least–was disappearing and being converted into new muscle by his body. His apron shrank up into a full, heavy gut, but hardly disappeared, still looking like a firm, hairy ball jutting out from his body. His fat thighs lost their wobble, but were just as thick–just muscular now, so wide he had to adjust his stance somewhat to accommodate them. The same with his arms, the flab hanging off shifting into thick biceps and triceps, his neck filling out and absorbing one of his three chins, and his chest–he didn’t lose all of the fat there, either, but they grew flatter and firmer as the pectorals underneath developed into heavy slabs of muscle. What remained was a solid mix of both, a huge, powerlifter shaped beast, bent over the display case, still moaning in pleasure as the shorter, older chubby fellow kept hammering the now smaller dildo into his hole.
Saul sensed something happening, however. The dildo was becoming a bit…gelatinous, the red and steel colored layer giving way to something more cream colored. “It…tastes like milk, or cream…” Jeremy muttered, panting after the exhaustion of his body growing scores of pounds of muscle in just a few minutes.
Saul realized what it was, and shoved the dildo in deep, allowing the end to slide into Jeremy’s ass as well, the hole closing up behind it. Jeremy tried to stand up and say something, but his eyes went wide–he felt the asslicker pop inside his ass, releasing all of that built up cream into his guts. He groaned, feeling all of that liquid surge through him, flowing into his balls first, feeling his sack swell up, larger than a grapefruit, then larger than a small watermelon, firm and taut, full of milk. The rest of the cream surged upward, into his chest, and he could feel it…changing it, warping the tissue there, swelling his fatty pecs ever larger, losing some of their firmness, his nipples growing and swelling larger, until with a grunt, he felt cream burst forth, flowing down his hairy chest, his cock exploding all over the front of the display case, milk gouting from him as he moaned and mooed, the orgasm ripping through his entire body as waves of pleasure. He collapsed to the floor against the case, sitting in a puddle of his own milk, heaving for breath, Saul looming over him. The confectioner scooped up a bit of cream on his finger and tasted it.
“Fuck, it’s…delicious…” Saul muttered.
“Let…I have to get out of here, I…” Jeremy muttered, but before he could stand, Saul shoved another sucker into his mouth, the Dum Dum wrapper cast aside, and watched as the intelligence in Jeremy’s eyes drained away as he sucked, one hand tweaking his nipples, the other groping his still leaking cock–and Saul helped him up.
“Come on–tasting that…I think I’m going to need your help in the kitchen, buddy–you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being my helped back here?”
Jeremy…knew he should do something, think something…but thinking was hard, and once Saul had him hooked up to the milking machine–well, he didn’t think about much after that, or ever again, and Saul new line of cream filled truffles–well, they’re popular, even if they have a few…additional side effects.
“Hey, stop thief!”
Marvin just streaked past the burly clerk and sprinted down the concourse, the ring he’d just pilfered gripped in the palm of his hand. He doubted it was worth much, really, but he liked the thrill of the theft more than anything else, really. He hadn’t quite counted on the clerk being so sharp eyed, however, or on the guy giving chase. Still, he was a lot younger than the old man–he’d get away–probably. What happens with the thief next?
Alright, time to start another little vignette! We have a young shoplifter on the loose, who will probably need some sort of comeuppance for his crime, but he’s a wily fellow–let’s see what his next move is first. Here’s the bonus Patron poll as well!