Something…odd’s been going on with my roommate, Titus, lately. We were getting along pretty well–he was an athlete but not too much of an asshole about it, and I was a pretty run-of-the-mill college student. Both of us were looking for girls, and he decided to rush a frat…but I wasn’t really that interested to be honest. The frat challenged him and a few other pledges to a panty raid on a sorority. I don’t know what happened, but the next morning I woke up and found him passed out, face down on his bed, in just a pair of the strangest looking underwear–a bit like a jock, made out of mesh. I saw the pouch when he rolled over–or I suppose, the lack of one. I could make out every vein on his cock–I blushed and covered him up, but ever since…

I think he might be gay, for one thing. I don’t have anything against fags, but it’s just…a surprise. He seemed so obsessed with women before, but I’ve caught him jacking off in our room to gay porn a few times now. His body is changing too–away from his stocky build to something a bit trimmer, his ass fuller, his body hair going away as well. He shaved off his goatee and trimmed his hair down, picked up a lisp–you see what I mean, right? It all started with that sorority, so…so I think I’m going to go over there, and find out what happened to my roommate.

Fuck, I have to stop this, I have to. I don’t remember what happened at that place–I just woke up in my room the next morning, wearing the nastiest pair of boxer briefs I’d ever seen. The crotch was stained and crusty with cum, they reeked of piss and musk…and I haven’t been able to take them off for days now–I can barely manage to get them down to piss and shit, and I have to cum in them…and I’ve been cumming a lot, thinking about…about Titus’s ass…

It’s right there–he’s not really asleep, he’s just…pretending. Needs…daddy to breed him good.

No! No no no, I’m not some fucking daddy! I might look like I’m in my 40′s, and I have so much damn body hair now it’s not even funny, but I’m not a daddy, fuck those bitches…but I…I am so damn horny, and the boy’s ass is right there…

The boxers slip down, and my seven inch, uncut cock springs out, dribbling cum already. Maybe…just one fuck. Feel the boy’s hole one time, and we can both stop this damn charade. He don’t need no damn school, not when he can strip for a livin’, payin’ his daddy’s bills…fuck! He’s so damn tight! Yeah boy, moan for daddy–think I’ll be renting this hole out to a few of my friends tonight!

Here at the Arctos Briar Division strive to provide the highest quality of pipes, pipe tobacco, and accessories to ensure that any man who tries one of our products is determined to be a pipe smoker for life!

Included here is one pipe smoker starter kit. By now, our patented smart memory chemicals implanted in these instructions will have given you the basic knowledge to smoke your first pipe like a pro, right out of the box! Simply let instinct guide you, and those hands of yours will do the rest. We here at Arctos pride ourselves in making our products so easy to use, soon you won’t be able to imagine life without them.

If you’re still resisting, you’ll be happy to know our smart chems have also begun training your nervous system to develop the nicotine habit of a long-term, heavy smoker. We guarantee that any reservations you have about your starter kit will soon seem secondary to the shaking, burning need in your gut for your first breath of smoke. The chems will continue to foster addiction in your system, so the longer you resist, the greater your need will be when you do, finally, succumb. Don’t forget, as with any Arctos product, we’re proud to state that any customer dissatisfaction with our products is always temporary.

The smart chems in the pipe you can’t stop yourself from smoking now will, at this point, have begun the process of reshaping your mind and body into that of a proud, pipe smoking bear. The arousal you’re likely feeling is natural–after all, why smoke if the mere taste of smoke isn’t enough to make that hard cock of yours rigid in your Arctos brand Carpenter Jeans (order SKU 96571) or Full Figure Overalls (order SKU 92638)? You’ll be glad to know that your pipe starter kit comes with a collection of coupons we’re sure you will be needing soon enough. One in particular we’d like to draw your attention to is a free pipe starter kit you can send to the person of your choice!

Doesn’t that sound fun, daddy bear? Go on, keep stroking, thinking about turning that friend of yours into a big, hairy, bearded pipe smoking bear like you are now. We’re even happy to throw in one pipe tobacco flavor upgrade of your choice for free! Want a young, submissive cub willing to serve you all day long? Try Cub Cut (order SKU 34865)! If you’re tastes run more along full figured fellows, then we’d suggest our Pig Plug (order SKU 35109).

Included is the full Arctos catalog for you to peruse while you keep jacking off, thinking about who you’d like to receive your complimentary starter kit!

As always, thank you for choosing Arctos Industries for all your lifestyle needs! We’re happy to have provided you with this 100 percent satisfying experience, and we look forward to your future orders.

Source: cubster64

Requested by Anonymous

These fucking kink festivals these faggots throw, fuck it’s disgusting, but hey, it’s a fun way of ruining a few faggots lives at least. You know, get a few pictures of some of them, and all it takes is some sleuthing on the internet, figure out their day job, and ruin their careers with a bit of blackmail. Heh, there’s one now–look at that old fuck, like anyone wants to see that disgusting body out in the sun. Gotta get a picture of that shit.

*CLICK*

Yeah, sexy old fuck like that, damn–not that I’m much younger than he his. No, wait, what the hell am I even saying? Look, whatever. I’ll just focus on some of these other fags–fuck, look at that one! Parading around in fucking panties, it’s like they’re fucking asking for me to ruin them!

*CLICK*

Yeah, I know how he feels, they’re so fucking sexy, and the way guys look at me like I’m some fuckin’ fairy makes me so damn hard. I…I love coming down here, really feels like I can be myself, let the freak out a bit, you know? Fuck, look that that sexy fucker! Big old gut, hot goatee, smoking that cigar in that leather gear of his! Gotta get a picture of that.

*CLICK*

Fuck yeah, got my old cock so fuckin’ hard, gonna love jacking off to these pictures for the rest of the year! Not like many guys wanna get with a pansy old fat fuck like me, but I’d rather watch and look at pics anyway! Think I might go smoke my cigar and look at these pics for a bit, blow a wad in my panties, and then see if I can find a few more sexy fucks for my photo collection!

Arctos Monthly (Part 2)

Adjusting was…difficult. The smoking was the hardest–I’d never given much thought to something like that before, but if I went more than an hour without smoking a bowl of tobacco, my mouth would go dry and I’d start getting these jitters. I could sometimes get away with smoking in the dorm with the window open if Andy was out, but for the most part I was stuck outside on benches away from buildings–at least it was a warm April, if nothing else, but my mind was focused on wondering how long it would take Andy to get his package from Arctos…because I had to admit, I was itching for a fuck. Sure, there were a few gay guys on campus who were drooling over me, but I wasn’t really looking for the skinny college type–I needed a fucking bear. Unfortunately my age hadn’t changed at all, and I couldn’t very well get into a bar, and I was nervous about hooking up online. But once Andy got his first package, I had a feeling I wouldn’t have to worry about not getting enough sex soon enough.

It came about a week after I’d received mine. I was in the room working on some school work when he came in carrying a box the same size as mine had been, and my mouth went dry. It was so hard not giving away the game while he read the card out loud to me, laughing, and all I wanted to do was scream at him to put the damn clothes on! That was something I’d discovered too, with this new body–I think my behavior had shifted too. Just…a little but. Like I was more cocky? I took more risks, and I loved being in charge. It was hard to describe, because I was having a harder and harder time remembering that I’d been completely different just a week earlier. Still, I managed to play dumb, and he finally pulled the clothes out–some XXXL sleeveless shirts with the Arctos label, some huge jeans and overalls. Boots, socks, boxers and a set of suspenders. He ended up with cigars instead of a pipe, however. I’d been expecting him to get something like what I’d gotten, but it was an entirely different set–the clothes even smelled different than mine had: more musky, like a locker room.

Now I’d been pretty average size before my package, as best I could remember. Andy, however, was a big old beanpole. Probably six foot three and maybe 160 pounds–there was no way these clothes were going to fit him, and he didn’t even have any interest in trying them on…though something had him at least a little interested, as far as I could judge from the bulge growing in the front of his pants. I think he would have eventually tried them when I was out of the room, but I cajoled him into them, saying it was just for shits and giggles. He finally gave in, pulled on a pair of boxers, a shirt, the overalls because there was no way he could hold the jeans up, even with the suspenders on. He looked ridiculous, of course. The clothes were massive, but the overalls didn’t even reach his ankles, the legs were so short on him. He asked if this was enough…and I wondered why he wasn’t changing. Was it because I was there watching? I realized something was missing, unwrapped one of the cigars and told him to put it in his mouth too. He refused–he hated anything having to do with smoking…but I could see something in his eyes. The smell of the clothes was getting to him now–he wanted it, he just didn’t want to admit to me that he did, especially after all the complaining he’d been doing about the smell of my pipe smoke getting everywhere. So I gave him a push, and just stuck the cigar in his mouth anyway.

I had to pull my hand away immediately, as the end burst into flame, and an entirely different Andy was standing in front of me, looking confused and disoriented around himself at the room which was suddenly much…taller. He had, in an instant, shrunk down over a foot to a much shorter height of five foot two, the top of his head now not even reaching my bearded chin, and he’d exploded in size–and it sure as hell wasn’t muscle. When we weighed him in a bit later, using the scale in the bathroom, we found out he was now 385 pounds, but all I could think at the time was that he was…so fucking fat. He looked down at himself, confused, unable to take it in, panicking and sucking down smoke like he didn’t even know he needed it, and started ripping the clothes off of him–and I helped of course.

I hadn’t really…considered the fact that I might be attracted to bigger guys. Sure, more than a few of the chubby, bearish professors around campus had been catching my eye, but seeing Andy’s new rolls of flab covered with a thick coating of brown hair, his face and double chins covered by a bushy brown goatee, his hair grown out down past his shoulders–I had that cigar out of his mouth and my lips over his, sucking the smoke from his lungs so fast that he didn’t even know what was going on–but he needed me, and I wanted him bad. I threw him around and shoved him over the side of the bed, surprised at my own forcefulness, got down and started eating out his massive ass, and he was moaning and groaning, getting looser until I lined up my huge cock and slipped it right inside, like it had been made for me. Hell, maybe it had been, right? I knew he’d probably have questions, but he sure wasn’t saying no at the time, and I’m not sure I could have stopped myself even if the thought had crossed my mind. He…sure was pissed, though. He ruined the afterglow with his shouting and whining. He’s probably still is a bit pissed, probably, but he’s pretty happy with Mitch these days…heh. Mitch. Where do I even start with that fucker…

Arctos Monthly (Part 1)

I was in the mailroom, and saw the slip telling me that I’d received a package. My first thought was that it was probably another care package sent by my mom–even though I’d just gotten back from spring break a few days earlier. It was a bit embarrassing, but I know I wasn’t the only freshman suffering under parents with empty nest syndrome. However, when I picked up the package it quite large and heavy–at least the size of a small moving box–and wasn’t from my parents at all. With the labels printed out, it looked more like a package from Amazon or something, but I hadn’t ordered anything recently that I could remember. Checking the return address, all I saw was the name of some company I’d never heard of: Arctos Industries.

Still, who wouldn’t be a bit curious? I could have refused it, but I took it back to my room. where I got my scissors from my desk and broke open the tape of the box, opened it up, and found a card on top–I kept it all this time, actually–hold on, I can just read it to you:

Hello Bryan,

We here at Arctos Industries are beginning a new monthly subscription program called Arctos Monthly! Each month, subscribers will receive one box full of our signature clothing and other wares, and we have chosen you to be a part of our launch! If you’ve never heard of us, don’t worry–we’re testing this fabulous new program in both current and future market areas. In this pilot program, you will receive a three month trial subscription to Arctos Monthly, free of charge, and your first shipment of our products will have arrived with this card. We hope you’ll try the outfit on–don’t worry if it doesn’t seem like your usual style, or if there are possible fit issues. Our signature Customerization Process (patent pending) guarantees your satisfaction with our products.

Also as a part of our launch, we are so certain that you will be thrilled with our products that we will provide you with three free referral codes for your friends. Simply go to the website listed below, log in with the information provided, and enter their full name and address, and they too will receive their own three month trial subscription to Arctos Monthly at no charge to you or them, because we know our products are at their best when shared! The referrals never expire, so feel free to wait and see what Arctos can do for you, before deciding who you’d like to refer.

Yours in Brother Bearhood,

Harvey Whitlock

Vice President of Marketing, Arctos Industries

Now that’s all very strange, of course, and I had no idea what to make of the note at the time, but hey, I was a poor college student, and I’d recently discovered how easy it is to take for granted the fact that, when you’re younger, your parents buy you all the clothes you want and need. As an adult it’s not so easy. Even if they weren’t my style, a few extra pants and shirts wouldn’t hurt, right? I threw the card on my desk and pulled out the clothing inside the box–and I was a bit dismayed.

It wasn’t really my style at all, and it looked like it was way, way too big. There were a couple flannel shirts, some XXL tees with the Arctos label across the front and back, Some jeans with a size 46 waist, a trio of jockstraps in white black and red, wool work socks, size 14 boots–and a pipe with a bag of loose leaf tobacco. That last part, especially, freaked me out a bit, after all, who in the hell would send some strange smoking supplies? Still, the clothes…they smelled really good, ok? That’s weird, but I wanted to try them on anyway. Andy, my roommate, was gone–I figured I could put them on, take a silly selfie, and then figure out how to return them for something more my size and style. I put them on as best I could–nothing fit right–hell, I even stuck the unlit pipe in my mouth, held up my phone and took a selfie…but the picture…well, let’s just say I didn’t recognize myself when I looked at the photo.

There, on the screen of my phone, was a big, hulking, muscular man–thick pecs, a decent sized gut pushing out the t-shirt he had on, a thick beard on his face and his hair cut in a high-and-tight, a pipe trailing wisps of smoke into the air. Needless to say, I was a bit freaked out–and then I looked in the mirror, and I really freaked out. It was me. I was the big muscle bear in that selfie, looking like a lumberjack, smoking a pipe I couldn’t remember lighting. I told myself it couldn’t be real, I stripped off the clothes, but my body didn’t change back–and oddly enough, the more I saw of myself…the more I liked it. In fact, I ended up jacking my eight inch cock off, rubbing my very furry gut and chest, smoking the whole while like I’d been doing it for years, shocked at…at how turned on this body was making me, but I found these strange thoughts entering my head. I’d always liked bears, hadn’t I? I tried to tell myself that I was straight, but I couldn’t believe it when I tried to think it. Hell, after I came I tried to think back to how I’d used to look, and I couldn’t remember anything–and then the door opened and Andy stepped in.

I tried to explain–he just blocked his eyes and told me to get some clothes on and put the pipe out before the RA yelled at me again…like I’d always had this body. I pulled on the clothes I’d just taken off and apologized–Andy did his best to take it in stride, and somehow I got the feeling that this hadn’t been the first time he’d walked in on me naked, looking like this. I spent the rest of the evening searching for some…evidence of my old self, but found nothing. All the clothes in my closet? Gone–replaced by various clothing I’d just received in the package. Pictures on Instagram and Facebook? They all looked like this new face, all in situations I could remember…aside from a few big, brawny men I couldn’t remember meeting, but who I could remember…well, fucking. I ended up just…staring at the card from Arctos, reading it over and over, wondering what in the world the next few months would have in store for me…and I looked over at Andy working on one of his papers, feeling my cock suddenly stir…and knew just who would be getting my first referral.

Family Heritage – Part 1 (Patreon Commission)

When Grant heard the knock, his first thought was that Aaron was early for their date that evening, but the knock wasn’t familiar, and when he opened it, he instead found himself facing a package handler from UPS, bearing a small box that needed his signature. He hadn’t been expecting anything, and it wasn’t something he’d ordered online and forgotten about, so he took it in and opened it. On top were two sheets of paper–the top one was a short letter from a lawyer, the executor of his Great Uncle Reid’s estate over in Scotland. He remembered a couple weeks before, that his mother had mentioned him passing away, but none of them had been able to afford a ticket overseas to the funeral. Grant had only met him a few times, when the big, burly scotsman had visited the family when he was a kid and teenager. He’d always seemed especially interested in Grant when he came, but he’d never really thought much of it, and he certainly hadn’t expected to receive anything from his estate. The letter was merely informing him that this was the first of a set of packages he would be receiving, as per Reid’s instructions, as well as a list of what the package contained: one blank piece of paper aside from the number one written on one side, one tartan kilt, one smoking pipe, one bag of pipe tobacco, and one pipe lighter.

Grant had no idea why he’d received these things–he looked at the paper, but it was indeed blank, aside from a small circled number one in one corner. He’d never smoked a pipe, but the tobacco reminded him of dim memories from when he was a kid, sitting on Uncle Reid’s knee, tugging at his big red beard while he laughed, and while he hadn’t thought of him in years, he suddenly missed him very deeply. He remembered the last time he’d seen him, when he was a teenager, over a decade earlier, he’d taken him aside, and told him in a serious tone, with that heavy accent and smoke curling out his nose, he’d said:

“You ‘n me, we’re special guys, you know. Well, you may not know yet, but ye will. Just wish I was closer, so I could keep a better eye out. Still, you’ll understand one day, don’ worry, mah boy.”

And this was it? A pipe and a kilt? He looked down and saw that the blank page wasn’t blank any longer—rather, writing had appeared on it, the words, “Put it on and have a smoke–you’ll see.”

He set the pipe to one side, stripped down (after all, Uncle Reid had been adamant that the only way to wear a kilt was completely “bare arsed”) and pulled it on, but on his slimmer frame, he had to tighten the belt as much as possible just to keep it on him. And then…without really knowing why, he took the old, well worn pipe, packed it with tobacco, doing his best to remember how his uncle had done it, and gave it a light, sucking in smoke, trying not to cough. Almost immediately, he felt something strange–an itch all over his body. At first he didn’t think much of it, and just kept smoking, but it only got worse. He ran his hand over his other arm, and it felt furry–because it was. Where his arm had been mostly smooth moments before, now it was suddenly covered with dark red hairs.

He didn’t know what to do, but something else was wrong. His shirt was too tight, and the waist of the kilt too. He let out the belt a notch, and then another, trying to keep up with his body. Was he growing? He had to be, that was the only explanation. His shirt was becoming tighter and tighter, the collar biting into his neck, and he started tugging at it with both hands until it finally started ripping away, revealing a massive barrel chest covered with red fur, and a thick, muscular gut. He ran his rough hands over it, the terror still there, but now…now he starting to get horny. This was no time to jack off, and yet he reached under the kilt and grasped his cock–his…much larger cock–and gave it a few strokes, groaning and grunting as he did, feeling his balls slap against his thighs as they grew large and swung lower. He bit his lip and shot his load of cum against the underside of the kilt and across the floor in front of him.

He stood there, panting, for a few moments, and then rushed to the bathroom to see what had happened for himself. In the mirror, he still looked like himself…kind of. Like himself if he’d picked up the scottish red in his family, and his hair had grown everywhere. If he’d spent most of his time lifting weights and eating like a horse. He looked to be a few years older as well…or maybe it was just that his skin looked a bit more weathered than before. Strangest of all, the more he looked at himself, the more…normal he felt. In fact, he was having a hard time even remembering what he’d looked like before, and he took a few puffs off his pipe, letting the smoke billow through his mustache and beard like he’d seen his uncle do countless times, and his cock started hardening all over again. Had his uncle planned this whole thing? What was even happening to him?

He tromped back to the box, and discovered that the blank sheet of paper was now covered with writing on both sides–a letter from his uncle letting him know that Grant was the next in line to become the family warlock. This first box was merely a little gift from his uncle to prepare him, but in the next few weeks he would be receiving more packages full of various magical equipment. If he hadn’t just changed right before his own eyes, Grant never would have believed a single word. He was rereading the letter when someone knocked at the door, and he walked over and answered it, revealing Aaron.

Grant’s mind went blank. He tried to stutter some explanation, but Aaron just smiled and stepped inside like everything was normal, joking at his boyfriend for wanting to show off his body around the house. Grant shot some wit back, easing into his new accent like he’d been speaking that way his whole life, and it was only a few minutes later that he had Aaron on his knees under his kilt, licking as his “knob and bawbag”, and Grant smiled to himself, wondering what sorts of things might be coming arriving from his uncle’s estate in a few more weeks.

Commission: Portrait of a Happy Family

Commissioned by Scot158

Harvey gave a grumble, rolled over, and checked the clock. Ten in the morning–at least it was Saturday and he could sleep in. His friend Jack was going to come over around noon–apparently he had something he was desperate to show him on his computer or something, but fuck, why did he have such a headache this morning?

A cigar, he needed a cigar, of course. But he didn’t smoke cigars, what in the world was he thinking of that for? He sat up on the edge of the bed, pawed open the humidor on his bedside table with a hand that seemed far too large, fished out a cigar, fumbled with his zippo and got it lit, taking his first deep lungful of smoke for the weekend ahead. His head cleared quickly, and his earlier confusion about the cigar seemed misplaced. Hell, his dad had given him his first cigar when he’d grown his first pubic hair at the age of seven–he’d been an avid smoker for a decade now. He got up, wedged himself through the doorway of his room that seemed much too narrow (or was he too wide?) and headed for the bathroom for his morning piss. He couldn’t see his soft cock past his big, extremely hairy gut, but that changed when he got hard–all ten inches, fuck.

He started stroking himself over the toilet, reached up and started tugging on the thick ring piercing one of his nipples. His dad had given him a new ring each birthday, and last year had even let him get his first tattoo along with a heavy gauge PA. Oh man, his dad was so proud of him as he’d stroked his son’s pierced cock for the first time in the shop, leaned in and kissed him, their beards tangling, his dad feeding him his tobacco black spit as the artist watched them, stroking his own cock that Harvey would suck later on…

Harvey grunted and shot his load across the entire toilet. wondering what in the hell he’d just remembered. That hadn’t happened, had it? And yet, everything told him it was real, and why…why shouldn’t it be? He was probably just hungry. He flushed the toilet and headed downstairs, naked, to go eat some cereal. He poured himself one heaping bowl, devoured it, and with milk still in his beard, got up and made himself a second, and then a third, finishing off an entire box. Still hungry, he pawed through the kitchen, cracked half a dozen eggs in a bowl and started whipping them together for an omelette, when he heard the first thump on the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” was his first thought, but by the time the second thump hit, he remembered it was just his dad tromping down the stairs. But that couldn’t be his dad, could it? Those footsteps sounded like they belonged to a monster. He turned to the doorway by the stairs, waiting to see if his memories could be lying, but they weren’t. His father hit the first floor, ducked his way under the seven foot doorway, naked, but so covered with hair Harvey could only see the skin of his thirteen inch cock swinging between his legs. “Mornin’ son,” he said, scratching his balls.

“M–Mornin’ Pa…” Harvey said. Why was he breathing so shallow? His dad dribbled some black tobacco spit from his mouth, and he watched it run down into his black beard. Had he just licked his lips? Why had he done that?

“Saw what you did over the toilet, boy.”

Oh shit, had he forgotten to clean that up?

“I had to lick it up for you, not that I mind…” He tromped closer. Harvey could feel the floor shake with each step of his dad’s huge, wide feet. “Tasted good, but it got me all horny for my boy this morning…”

His dad came close, and suddenly Harvey could smell him. He was rank, as rank as he was. They smelled the same, fuck, they smelled so hot together. His dad leaned in, taking the cigar from his son’s mouth and kissed him, pushing tobacco spit into his son’s thirsty mouth, twisting each other’s nipples, their cocks growing stiff, jutting up between their bellies. With a growl, his dad spun Harvey around, bent him over the counter, lubed his cock up with some spit, and drove it into his son’s ass.

“Oh fuck, Pa…”

“Yeah, that’s my boy’s hot asshole, fuck…”

His dad’s huge hands wrapped around his hips, gripping him tightly, and he started driving all thirteen inches deep inside him. Harvey reached out and retrieved his cigar and kept smoking, reaching under, his cock hard again already, and started stroking. The doorbell rang.

“Oh fuck, that’s Jack…I gotta get that,” Harvey said, but his dad held him in place.

“I’m almost fuckin’ finished boy, hold on, and tighten down on your Pa’s fuckstick, aww fuck yeah, here it fuckin’ comes…”

His dad drove his cock in as deep as he could. Harvey could feel his dad pumping cum deep into his hole. The doorbell rang again, but his dad held him in place until the last few spasms finished, and then pulled out. “Alright, go get the door, son.”

Slightly embarrassed, but without really knowing why he felt that way (after all, his dad fucked him all the time–why would he be embarrassed about that?) he went to the front door, only realizing when it was open and he was staring at Jack in the doorway that he was still completely naked, his cock still hard and jutting out across the empty space between them. Jack’s jaw dropped when he saw it…but he’d seen it before, hadn’t he? Harvey and his dad were always naked in the house–Jack knew that. “Hey man, sorry it took me a sec to get the door, I was, uh…busy.”

“It actually worked, I can’t believe it!” Jack said, and pushed his way past Harvey, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the stairs, and up to Harvey’s room, he pulled out his laptop and opened it up, revealing a strange screen which looked like some cross between a character generator and a 3D modelling program, and started explaining what it was. Harvey listened, but couldn’t believe it. A computer program that could alter reality? That wasn’t possible…was it? He had felt kind of strange all morning, but now that he thought about it, he was feeling less strange now than before. When he mentioned this to Jack, his friend showed him a timer counting down in the bottom corner, which had about half an hour left.

“It’s still processing the reality change. Hell, I can’t even remember what you looked like before anymore. When the timer finishes, this reality will be completely real to everyone, even you and me.”

“What?” Harvey said, “Well change me back!”

Jack furrowed his brow, “but this is what you wanted–you told me you’d had this fantasy forever.”

Harvey stared at him. Would Jack be lying to him? Hell, Jack could have just made all of that up. For all he knew, Jack might not have even been his friend before this morning, but that was paranoid, right? “Still…still, you should have asked me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, is all.”

Harvey looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. How could he have looked entirely different just the day before? It couldn’t be possible. Still…Jack seemed convinced. He was a bit angry though. It felt like he’d been a bit violated. He looked over at Jack, and wondered how he’d like it, to suddenly end up in some big bear body, smoking cigars all day long, covered…covered with fur…Harvey realized his cock was getting hard, and that gave him an idea…

“Give me the computer,” Harvey said.

“What?”

“You changed me. It’s only fair that I get to change you back.”

“Hey, come on, that’s not–”

Harvey stepped up, and blew a thick cloud of smoke in Jack’s face, the head of his cock drooling precum on Jack’s pant leg. “I could always just take it from you, you know. I’m much, much bigger than you.”

“Look man, I’m sorry I didn’t ask–”

Harvey could sense Jack’s nervousness, and he could also see the tent growing in his friend’s pants. He liked how Harvey looked now, but Jack could still use some improvement. He eventually relented to the pressure, and let his friend look over the program, Harvey sat at the desk, the screen away from Jack so he couldn’t see what he was doing, and worked quickly. When he was satisfied, he gave everything a second look, and then hit submit. The change was instantaneous. One moment, Jack was on sitting on the edge of the bed, twiddling his thumbs, the next, Harvey’s obese big brother Jack was sitting there naked, body covered with fur, an unruly beard reaching down to his deep belly button, a cheek suddenly bulging out with a huge wad of chewing tobacco. Jack let out a belch as he sat there, and gave his huge gut a scratch. “You done yet, bro?”

He didn’t even realize anything had changed! Harvey looked down at the timer, and saw it had two hours to count down. Apparently, the program found this change a bit easier to process than changing him and his father had been. Well, their father now. He grinned. “Almost done…I gotta piss though.”

“Aww, I can take care of that bro,” Jack said, rubbing his gut, “Fuckin’ thirsty myself.”

Harvey got up from the chair, and realized he could smell the stench wafting off his slovenly brother. He never showered, and he stank of piss and sweat. He smelled…he smelled damn sexy actually. Harvey shook his head–he wasn’t supposed to think that, was he? He walked over, pointed his cock up at his big brother’s bearded mouth, and started pissing, arcing the piss up, soaking Jack’s face before pointing the stream into his mouth and watching him swallow it down. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy, he hoped he could be as nasty as his big brother some day.

Harvey shook his head again. He didn’t want to be like Jack! Jack was a slob–he was supposed to be…to be…He couldn’t remember. He finished pissing, and Jack licked his lips. “Thanks bro, your piss is fantastic.”

Harvey grinned, happy that his big brother was happy, stepped closer and gave Jack a hug, and started sucking the piss from his brother’s beard, and unable to stop himself, he started licking his big brother’s body clean. That was one of his favorite jobs, actually, keeping his brother and father clean. Who needs to shower when Harvey is so horny for their sweat and stink that he’ll lick them both clean every day?

Something was wrong with this. The program was changing him too, not just Jack, but it was happening too fast for him to do anything about it, and…and he didn’t really want to do anything about it. He kept licking, and when he finished Jack’s chest and gut, his brother laid down on the bed belly down, and let Harvey spread his fat ass and start licking out his nasty crack, drilling his tongue into his brother’s hole. Fuck, the taste of Jack’s ass got him so horny–he had to stop mid-cleaning to crawl forward, line his cock up with Jack’s hole and work it in for a fuck.

Jack gave a loud groan of pleasure as Harvey fucked him on their bed. Jack raised up, in the middle of the fuck, and looked at Harvey over his shoulder. “W–wait a minute…you already changed me, you fucker!”

“Oh shut up, and enjoy it,” Harvey said, and drove his dick as deep as it could go, “You love being a slob, just go with it.”

“Fuck, I fuckin’ reek.”

“You reek so fuckin’ good bro, don’t even worry about it–I’ll keep you clean.”

“You’re fuckin’ nasty.”

“Heh, not as nasty as you are.”

Jack let off another belch and a groan, pushing back to meet his little brother’s thrusts. Harvey finally shot his load, and then got down and started sucking the cum from his brother’s ass, before he licked the rest of it clean. When he finished, Jack rolled back over, and his own twelve inch cock was thrusting up against his belly. “Well, start sucking bro, don’t just stare at it.”

Harvey had long since lost his gag reflex, and he could take both his brother’s and his father’s cocks to the hilt. Jack didn’t last long, and he came a with a series of shudders that made his flabby body shake wildly. He laid there, enjoying the afterglow, while his little brother got down and started licking his feet clean. They were so big! Definitely as big as their dad’s. Harvey got another cigar lit and toyed with the heat on Jack’s feet–the two hour timer passed, and neither of them noticed a thing, until Jack’s stomach gave a growl. “Fuck, I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Harvey said, and dodged his brother’s kick, laughing.

“Fuck you, I’m gonna go eat something. You coming?”

“I’ll come downstairs–I need to see if dad needs anything cleaned.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ slut, Harvey.”

Harvey stuck his tongue out at his big brother, “I learned from the best.”

Jack went down and assembled a platter of food for himself, while Harvey went to where his father was sitting on the couch, and started licking him clean too. Jack thought about watching his father and brother fuck, but then he remembered the computer upstairs, and with a grin, he crept upstairs, snacking all the way.

He came back downstairs an hour later, no longer naked. Instead, he had on a wide strap leather harness and some heavy biker boots, and a collar with a tag that read “Alpha” on it. Curious to see what his dad and brother might be up to, he found the living room empty. That made sense though–dad preferred to work in the dungeon, the sprawling basement beneath the house where the family spent most of their quality time.

Downstairs, his father–and his master–was standing behind Harvey, who was tied down on a wooden horse. His little brother was now quite a bit more muscled–his dad kept him on a strict diet and exercise regimen, to keep his slave son in peak physical shape for constant abuse. He was also covered head to toe in tattoos, his face and body riddled with piercings. Master was decked out in rubber today, and he had one gloved fist buried elbow deep in his youngest son’s ass. There was a puddle of cum underneath the horse–obviously the pressure on Harvey’ prostate had made him cum at least twice already.

“Do you need any help, sir?” Jack asked, and his dad looked over at him and smiled.

“Sure Jack–put a glove on. Daddy’s horny for this slave’s mouth, but I want to keep stretching his hole. Take over for me, would you?”

Jack was only too happy to pull on a rubber glove, lube it up, and slide it into his little brother’s wide open asshole. His dad stripped off his own gloves, and went around, pulling the gag from Harvey’s mouth and replacing it with his own huge cock. Harvey realized something else had changed, but he couldn’t quite pin down what it was, and by the time the family was through with their afternoon play session, the timer had expired, and none of them could remember anything ever being different at all. Of course, those were far from the last changes for the happy family of bears, but those will have to wait for another time.

Fuck, Russ almost couldn’t take it anymore, seeing Drew like that, his shirt off, growing belly hanging out, but he had to stay in control.

“Dude, what are you staring at my gut for?”

Russ yanked his eyes up to Drew’s face, where he could see his friend’s beard starting to fill in, and as he stared at it, it started to thicken and grow a bit denser, and he blushed and looked away. “Sorry, you just look…bigger…”

Drew didn’t look bigger–he was bigger, but Russ knew that of course. The potion he’d taken would let his gaze transform anyone he wanted, but it would only work until he and his target had sex–and he came. He should have invested in a chastity device or something, just to hold back, because the potion was making his libido rage out of control. It had only been an hour, and Drew had packed on 50 pounds, and was way hairier than he had been, and he hadn’t noticed a thing. Still, Russ wanted him bigger–hairier–butcher and tougher and rougher…

He needed something to calm his nerves, maybe some alcohol. The potion had said to not eat or drink anything for six hours before he took the potion, and to not eat or drink until the potion’s spell was completed, but one shot of something wouldn’t hurt, certainly. He excused himself and went into the kitchen, digging out some booze and taking a swig from the bottle, but his head immediately clouded up. The last thing he remembered was collapsing to the kitchen floor and seeing Drew rush over to him.

***

Russ woke up slowly. The headache pounding in his temples was one of the worst hangovers he’d ever experienced. He struggled up from the floor and went to grab his head, but found his hands were covered by some sort of mitt. Confused, he started to take them off, but stopped. Master Drew wouldn’t want him to do that–Master Drew wanted him to be a good pup.

“That you, pup?” A deep voice said from the bed, and he heard the creak of bedsprings as the massive man his roommate had become heaved himself up off the bed, over six feet tall and close to 400 pounds, and all master–his master.

This wasn’t right, he hadn’t wanted Drew to be his master, had he? Sure, he’d always liked bottoming, and he’d had a few fantasies…and Russ finally figured out that the alcohol must have lowered his inhibitions far enough that his subconscious had taken over the transformation. Still, he loved his big master, and Master Drew loved him, his pup–his slave. He nuzzled up against his thick leg, feeling his cock harden, and wondered what Russ might have in store for them today. Whatever it was, it would be good.

“See? I told you you’d like cigars–you’re manly enough for them,” Bruce said, watching his roommate, Phil take a deep drag off the cigar, still dressed in his suit from work, his eyes starting to glaze over a bit as he moaned. A five o’clock shadow sprouted up on his smooth face suddenly, and Bruce couldn’t help but run his hand along it, watching him shiver.

“Fuck–I feel so…”

“Manly? Butch?” Bruce finished. He was slender and smaller than his roommate, and he got down on his knees in front of him, unzipping the front of his suit, pulling out Phil’s cock and he sucked it down. Bruce tried to stop him, he wasn’t gay, and he’d had no idea Bruce swung that way, but when he tried to push him off, he grabbed Bruce’s hair instead and started fucking his face roughly, inhaling more and more of the smoke. “Fuck…boy…”

“No,” Bruce said, pulling away, and looking a bit annoyed, “Not your boy–I’m gonna be your son.”

Phil just stared at him, his stubble now a beard, his suit fitting awkwardly against his body, which was bulking up with muscle and fat as he sat there. His head was foggy too, and it was hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted to fuck Bruce right now. “Get–Get back down there and finish me off, you fucker…” he said gruffly, in a voice an octave too deep.

“Nuh uh, not until you say it. You know you want to be a daddy, right? You want a son you can abuse, a manly son like you are. You don’t want a skinny twink like me, do you?”

Bruce leaned in closer and ran a finger down the thickening shaft of Phil’s cock, and unable to help himself, he waited until after Bruce had inhaled off the cigar, and then grabbed the sides of his head, and locked lips with him, sucking the smoke from his lungs. Phil didn’t really know what was going on, but he let the smoke pass between them, feeding it to his roommate, and then felt Bruce push back into him, back and forth for who knew how long, until Bruce finally let go and stumbled back.

Phil did a double take–Bruce looked completely different–in fact, he looked like…he did. He was shorter, but much stockier, growing out of his own clothes, and seeing him lick his lips…his son lick his lips, Phil growled and stood up, ripping the clothes off him, and sucking on his son’s neck, marking him, feeling him squirm, and then he shoved him down on his knees. “Suck it, son–suck daddy’s big cock.”

Milk, by Donald T. Oolong

It was sweet and rich, flowing steadily into his mouth. Need more. Kevin opened his eyes, saw strands of wiry brown hair, and realized he was lying atop another man, mouth clamped tightly on his nipple. He jerked up and got a glimpse of the man’s face.

“Ah-ah-ah! You’re not nearly done.”

A strong hand pushed Kevin’s face down while another held him firmly in place. The man’s body was muscular, with a padding of fat and hair that tickled Kevin as he squirmed back and forth. “My friends—“ Kevin gasped before instinctively lapping up the whitish fluid leaking from the man’s chest. The four of them stopped at this motel… Paul said he saw weird dudes in the lobby…a knock at the door and…white. Kevin struggled a few seconds more before latching back onto the nipple. He resumed sucking.

“Safe; they’re being suckled like you. You’ll see them again soon, and be closer than you ever thought possible.” The man tousled his hair reassuringly. And Kevin did feel reassured. There was no place he’d rather be than cradled in this huge, bearish man’s arms, nuzzling his downy hair and drinking this—milk?–that to flowed endlessly from his nipple. The man squeezed his ass.

“You’re putting on weight. Gonna be a nice and thick when this is over. Hairier too. Me, Tony and Mick, we like our men on the husky side—strong, with a bit of softness. Keith, though, likes ‘em straight up fat,” the man chuckled. “Who’s that red-haired friend of yours?”

“Tm.” Kevin mumbled a reply around the nipple. He was getting drowsy again.

“Tom? Tim? Whatever his name is, Kenneth made short work of that swimmer’s build. Got a nice, big, bouncy ass on him already.”

Tim, a fat guy? He was good-looking already but could use some meat on his bones. God, he was beautiful. And Paul and Zach…Kevin realized how much he loved his friends. They were coming to terms with the same feelings right now, for each other, for him, and for these other men, three of whom Kevin hadn’t even seen yet. He knew it. Kevin was getting hard, and began to grind his cock against the thigh of his (Brother? Lover? Father? They were all right answers) and the other man stiffened as well. They rubbed against each other. Kevin greedily sucked down more milk.

“OhGodohfuckohhh-oh-hoh,” the man bellowed and pulled Kevin forward. He thrust his tongue into Kevin’s mouth and sprayed onto Kevin’s belly. Kevin came soon after, and they stared at each other as their semen grew cold. The man then pushed Kevin back down toward his chest. Kevin latched onto his other nipple.

“Thanks…other one was sore…Nice to have a family, isn’t it? To be loved? To know there’s someone else?” The man’s voice grew thick. He was dozing off.

He was snoring when Kevin finally fell asleep, but he continued to suck. It was sweet and rich.