Interactive Story: Arctos Dating (Part 2)

As with the previous entry, folks who support me over on Patreon get access to the surveys that let them choose the next direction of the story. Everyone who supports me gets access, even if it’s just a dollar. You can find out more information here!

Ken did his best to pretend that the night with Jack had been more or less normal. Sure, there might have been a few…oddities, but he had probably just been drunk and imagined things that weren’t really there. He kept hoping, for some reason, that Jack would reach out to him again, since he still had no way of contacting him from his end of the app. However, the more he tried to focus on getting back to normal, the more he noticed that things seemed to be different.

For one thing, he was just so damn horny now, all the time. Horny, and hungry. The day after he met Jack, and he felt like he was hungover as hell, the one thing that still seemed to be working was his cock, and so he milked out three loads before falling asleep that night at last, wishing he had another day to recover before going back to work on Monday. 

That morning, he woke up, needed to jack off again, ate a much larger breakfast than he usually did, and when he tried to get into his usual business casual, he was frustrated to discover that everything was just a bit too small for him. It wasn’t a matter that he’d gotten chubbier or anything, though he had perhaps gained a little chub–everything was off, from the length of his sleeves, to the legs of his pants, to even his shoes feeling a bit too cramped for his feet. He passed it off as nothing, maybe just a strange little bloat, and did his best to get through the workday, but the sensation of being hungover refused to pass. It wasn’t until he passed by some coworkers who had just come in from a smoke break outside that he realized he wasn’t hungover from the drinking, but from the cigar he’d had with Jack.

He’d quit that though. He wasn’t going back to being a smoker if he could help it. It wasn’t even that he found himself craving cigarettes again–he wanted the feel of a cigar in his hand, that more complex flavor, and deeper nicotine buzz. That evening, he held off pretty well, but soon found his porn interest sliding into cigar smoking videos, and as horny as he was without a chance to jack off at work, he found that he couldn’t cum–and the hangover sensation was only intensifying. He tried to go to bed, but just tossed and turned for a couple of hours before he finally gave in, found a smoke shop that was still open, bought some cheap cigars, went home, smoked one, and the relief! It opened the floodgates in other ways as well, and he came twice as he smoked it, and feeling better than he had in days now, he managed to sleep.

The next few days though, everything just got worse. He was definitely outgrowing his clothes. He measured himself, and was surprised to discover he was gaining almost an inch a day–and was now 6’1”–no wonder his pants were too short! He did have a definite belly coming in, but his chest seemed to be growing not only fat, but some muscle as well–that, and there was the body hair. He’d never been that hairy before, but the day after, he’d started feeling rather itchy, and now three days past the date with Jack, he had a full blown forest of fur coming in all over his chest. It was embarrassing, and coupled with the shrinking clothes, he faked an illness on Wednesday and planned on calling out for the rest of the week, until whatever this strange shit was subsided. Only it didn’t subside at all, and the time off from work only gave him more time for his worst impulses. He spent Wednesday and Thursday bingeing food, cigars and masturbation, until Friday afternoon, when he got a notification from the Arctos dating app–someone else wanted to take him on a date!

He opened it up, but again, he couldn’t see the fellow’s profile or picture or anything–but this time, there was a messaging function open that wasn’t there before, along with a message from the stranger.

“Hey man! You’re looking hot–wanna grab dinner and take a trip to the movies tonight?”

Ken hadn’t gone to see a movie in over a year, since the pandemic had struck. Maybe it would provide him a little bit of relief from his recent impulses as well. He was a bit worried that meeting up with another guy might change him more, but it’s not like that was really possible. He was just having a rough week is all, getting back into the dating scene after a year without. He was just pent up, and a little bloated, and a few days away from work was all he needed. He took the fellow up on his offer, and the fellow offered to pick him up. It wasn’t exactly the safest thing, he knew, but it was probably fine. Ken told him to pick him up at a park near his apartment, so he wouldn’t have to give him his address, and at six, he was out waiting, wondering who this next blind date was going to be.

It wasn’t long before an old beater truck pulled into the parking lot. Ken didn’t think much of it, until the driver climbed down out of the seat, turned around, and beamed at him. “You must be Ken!” he said, “The name’s Eddie, nice to meet you.”

Ken was a bit confused at first. He’d been expecting someone of at least Jack’s caliber, but this guy was decidedly not in stud territory. He was quite a bit shorter than Ken, especially at his new, inexplicable height, with a massive ball gut that Eddie had to tilt back to support. He was wearing some old, grungy looking jeans, suspenders, and just an undershirt with a number of unidentifiable stains on it, and when he came in for a hug, he definitely didn’t smell like he’d taken a shower that day. “Uh…yeah, nice to, uh, meet you.”

“Well come on then, get in the truck! I’m starving.”

“Oh shit, you know, I just realized I forget my wallet at home,” Ken said, “Let me, uh, go grab it.” It was a bad excuse, but it was something at least. There was no way he was going to go on a date with this fellow, if he could help it. However, he found himself walking after Eddie to his truck,, and climbing in with him, feeling a bit sheepish, and wondering why he was doing this. He’d felt the same way with Jack, actually–every suggestion had just somehow necessary. Eddie just chuckled, “Don’t worry pal, I can spot you.”

They drove off, Eddie’s right hand leaving the steering wheel and making its way over to Ken’s thigh, across the bench seat. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?” Ken said, hoping that a cigar might dissuade him.

“Hell no, light it up! Cigars are fucking sexy as hell. Loved seeing that in your pics.”

His pics? He hadn’t taken any pictures of himself smoking, that he could recall, and he certainly hadn’t put any up on the dating app. As far as he knew, the only photo up there was his face pic that he’d used as his profile picture. “My pics?” Ken asked, as he lit up his cigar.

“Yeah, you got a good little collection going already on there. Love a big, furry fella like you, couldn’t resist adding my own special twist, if you know what I mean,” Eddie said, and gave him a wink. He turned into a strip mall parking lot, and then into a fast food drive through. This, apparently, was dinner. Eddie pulled up to the speaker and rattled off way more food than two people ought to order. Ken tried to tell him he didn’t want to eat that much, but Ken didn’t pay attention. At the window, five bags of food came at them, along with two big drinks each. Eddie pulled into a parking spot, tossed Ken a bag, and told him to eat up.

“I, uh, don’t usually eat fast food, honestly.”

Eddie just leered at him, “Well you do now, pig. Come on, I know how fucking hungry you are,” he unwrapped a burger and pushed it to Ken’s lips, who found himself helplessly opening his mouth and taking a bite, his gut giving a little gurgle, his hunger rising. “Come on, you don’t have to hide that gluttonous side from me, I know exactly how good it feels to just let go and enjoy yourself.”

Ken ate the first hamburger is about six bites, picked up another one and tore a big chunk out of it with a moan, while Eddie slid closer, eating his own sandwich with one hand while he pushed up Ken’s tight shirt and rubbed his belly. “Oh fuck, it tastes so fucking good,” Ken said through a mouthful.

“Sure does piggy, come on, let’s see how big we can get this gut tonight.”

Ken demolished bag after bag of food, Eddie eating his own smaller share, but spending most of the time rubbing and massaging Ken’s belly and chest, rubbing the grease into his skin as he did, telling him that it was good for making his hair grow. His sweat pants were a bit tight now, and Eddie hauled down the front of them, fished out his cock and rubbed it as well, telling Ken that he loved being a glutton, loved seeing how big he could get, loved eating in front of people like a shameless pig, making as much of a mess as he wanted to. Eventually, all the food was gone, and Ken was left groaning while Eddie massaged his much larger belly and chest, his shirt now impossible to pull down over it at all, and sure enough, even more hair had sprouted across it and down into a thick pubic bush as well. Eddie took a photo of Ken’s face and showed it to him, and sure enough, his beard was longer too–just barely long enough to brush across his chubby chest, full of grease and bits of food.

“Alright, let’s go see what’s playing, pig,” Eddie said, and drove off again. Ken just nursed his very full gut, groaning a bit, but still so hard and horny. He reached down to play with himself, only for Eddie to knock his hand away, telling him to wait. He pulled into another parking lot, and Ken was confused for a moment–there was no movie theater here, just a run down looking sex shop. “Come on, let’s get inside,” Eddie said, and Ken hauled his fat ass out, trying to get his shirt down and failing, waddling after Eddie, horrified at what this nightmare date was becoming.

Eddie knew the old man behind the counter by his first name, pulled Ken to the back of the shop where there was a row of private booths. “I like this place cause most of these are big enough for big guys like us,” he said, “Go on, get in and sit down.”

Ken went in and sat on the sticky bench, and Eddie followed, squeezing down between Ken’s thighs, his face in Ken’s crotch. He pulled the door shut, put on some gay porn, and got to work milking Ken’s cock. It wasn’t Ken’s usual porno selection, but he found himself enraptured by it anyway–and feeling Ken sucking on his cock the whole time left his own hands free to explore his new, even larger body. As disgusted as he was by the massive gut, the skin was incredibly sensitive, and the increased layer of hair made him shudder–especially when Eddie’s hands joined in. Even his longer beard was a new sensation, and not an unwelcome one. In about fifteen minutes, Eddie milked one load out of him, and when Ken went to open the door, he stopped him. 

“Now now, I know these fat fucking pig balls of yours can pump out more than one load–I’m not done with you yet, piggy.”

Eddie kept sucking, and sure enough, Ken was still hard as a rock. He made his way through three full videos, an hour and a half, with Eddie milking load after load out of his cock, leaving Ken panting and heaving, both of them sweating up a storm in the tight quarters, before Eddie finally stood up, and fed Ken the last load of cum he’d shot into his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s not…the date I was expecting, you’re a damn fine cocksucker.”

“Heh, I’ve had lots of practice,” Eddie said, “But I think it’s time you got dessert, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck, I can’t eat more man, come on.”

“Trust me, you’ll like this. It’s your favorite fucking meal. Come on.”

They left the booth, squeezing their way out, but instead of leaving the shop, they went down to the end of the booths, around behind them, and found themselves in a narrow hall behind the booths. Ken had noticed the glory hole in the booth, but hadn’t thought much of it–there was one in every booth, all the way down. A cock popped through, and Eddie shoved Ken forward. “Go on pig, get your dessert.”

Ken got down and started sucking, while Eddie encouraged him, groped him, gave him tips and pointers, and in a few minutes, he got his first load of cum–and just like Eddie said, it tasted fucking delicious. He crawled down a couple of booths to where another cock had just pushed through, and sucked that one as well, no longer needing much in the way of encouragement, letting Eddie pull down the back of his sweatpants, and slide his own cock into Ken’s hole while he sucked the stranger off. Ken lost track of how many loads he ate as he crawled from glory hole to glory hole. Eddie would occasionally take a break to suck a cock himself, and more than a few guys came around to use Ken’s hole while he was sucking, but he didn’t mind. He loved cum after all, just like Eddie said, and it didn’t matter which end it went into.

It was nearly three in the morning when the two of them finally stumbled out, Ken’s belly now even larger than it had been when he’d entered. He hauled his shirt off and let it all hang out, as he dug the half smoked cigar out of the truck, relit it, and sucked it down as well, while Eddie gave his full, massive gut a rub down. Eddie took him home not long after that, and Ken collapsed into bed, exhausted, knowing that come morning he would be horrified by how he’d spent the evening, but he couldn’t help but admit that part of him was thoroughly satisfied as well. He’d just have to deal with the consequences in the morning, wouldn’t he?

Don’t forget, if you want to help pick what happens in the following chapters, check out my patreon!

Interactive: The House Made Me Gay! (Part 11)

It was the buzz of the razor that first sent Ethan into a little panic. He’d always liked having his hair at medium length or so. “Hold on, what are you shaving?” He asked.

Phil paused, and looked down at where Ethan was sitting in the chair. “What, don’t you trust me?” he asked, a bit coyly.

“I…I just usually like my hair longer is all.”

“Well, maybe when you were younger, but this bald spot isn’t going away anytime soon, Ethan. At some point, you’re just going to have to embrace it, and start looking your age. I mean, the combover can work for a time, but at some point…well, let’s just say you aren’t fooling anyone anymore.”

Ethan didn’t know what in the hell Phil was talking about, but before he could say anything, Phil took the hair on the top of his head, brushed it aside…and Ethan’s jaw dropped–the hair…it wasn’t growing from the top of his head, but from the side and the back, and when Phil pushed it aside, he saw a deep receding hairline pushing back to the crown of his head. 

It couldn’t be real. Ethan wasn’t balding! His dad had a full head a of hair–hell, even his grandpas had full heads of hair! He reached up, trying to figure out what was wrong, but he could feel it, the smooth skin of his scalp where all of the hair had disappeared. He tried to smooth his hair back down, but now that he’d seen it…he couldn’t unsee it. He was balding–and he wasn’t prepared for the confusion and distress it caused him, when he saw it. “I’m…I can’t be balding like that, not this young.”

Phil just chuckled behind him, “Yeah? How old are you, Ethan? Between this dye job and that combover, you can fool most, but not me.” Phil leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Just trust me, Ethan. Looking your age can be…really freeing. You won’t have to pretend anymore. You won’t have to hide. Won’t that be nice?”

It…did sound nice, somehow. Ethan didn’t object again, as Phil started up the razor, and began cutting into the long hair that had been his combover, Ethan watching it all fall away, his baldness now open and obvious…and the more he looked at it, the less it terrified him, somehow. It did feel good, showing everyone his…his age. He could embrace it. Phil just kept talking and encouraging him the whole time, assuring Ethan how good he would look once he was done with him. Once the hair was cleaned up a bit, he stood him up and led him over to a second chair in the back by a sink, leaned him back, and told him it was time to wash the dye out too. Of course, Ethan couldn’t quite remember dying his hair, but Phil hadn’t been wrong yet–and he did trust him, almost more than he trusted himself. Phil washed his hair out, and then while it was soaking, he told Ethan he was going to strip his beard too. Ethan had let his beard grow out over the summer–but had he dyed it too? Phil applied more of the soap to it, scrubbing it into the hairs, but there seemed to me…more of it, somehow. He could feel Phil tugging on it, pulling it down–it hurt a bit, but it also felt kind of good, in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

After a thorough rinsing, Phil stood Ethan back up, and moved him back into the main chair, and started cleaning up the rest of his hairline. For the most part, Ethan was pointed away from the mirror, so he couldn’t see the results–and while he was desperately curious, he could be patient, and just let Phil work. It wasn’t long before he spun the chair around again, and Ethan gave a little gasp at the face looking back at him.

He…really was old, wasn’t he? The balding was even more severe than he’d thought, pushing back past the crown now, leaving just a thin horseshoe of hair–no more than a couple inches, around the back and sides. Without the dye, it was a greyish white–and his beard. It was huge, stretching down past his chest, curly and thick and a stark white. Part of Ethan was struggling with what he was looking at, certain there had to be a mistake. He wasn’t this old! He was going to college, wasn’t he? Why did he feel so dang confused all of a sudden?

He could see the age elsewhere though–in the creases around his eyes, the jowls only mostly hidden by his beard. Phil told him how good he looked, now that he was ready to act his age, and Ethan had to concede that he was right. He did look good…but he still felt…empty, somehow.

“I guess…I’m having a hard time…remembering, Sir,” Ethan said to the barber. “I don’t even…” he was at a loss, trying to explain what he meant.

“I know what you’re trying to say, Ethan. You’ve been hiding in there for so long, that you don’t even remember what you really look like–or who you even are. But I think you’re done hiding, from now on–we can make sure you never forget who you really are, from now on–in fact, why don’t we write it down, so you don’t forget?”

Phil’s eyes glistened a bit cruelly, and before Ethan could do anything, straps appeared around his wrists and ankles, binding him to the chair, as Phil cut away his clothes, Ethan asking him what the hell he was doing. It became clear soon enough–this was, after all, more than a barber shop. Ethan started setting up his tattoo equipment and his piercing station, while Ethan protested–but there wasn’t anything he was going to be able to do about it. Ethan was going to be a brand new man–but what sort of mods does Phil have in mind for his old bearish customer?

Here’s the next poll! I’ll be mixing and matching from the results, so there will be a few winners chosen from this poll. You can make up to four choices! The bonus patron poll is over here as well.

The Familiar by wesleybracken

Hey all! 

As I mentioned before, I have quite a few larger works that I’ve been wanting to put out, but haven’t really found a platform that I preferred. However, Over the next few months, I’ve decided to start putting out some longer novellas and serial stories on! It’s a platform that mostly supports independent game developers, but allows creators to distribute pretty much anything they want, doesn’t charge fees for the service (instead, they rely on contributors giving them a percentage of their choice of what they make using the platform) and is, in my opinion, a better model for online distribution than something like amazon. 

This here is the first of several stories I’ll be posting. Some of them are largely finished (like this one here) and others are what I might call…in development. That is, large chunks of them are written, but they still have a ways to go. I’ll have more details about those sorts of projects when I post them–I should have one up in the next couple weeks or so.

This here is a commission I have been plugging away at for the larger part of a year, and I’m very happy with how it turned out. Because it was a commission (and essentially paid for by a very generous fellow) I’m going to offer it as a “name your price” download, though you can pitch in a donation if you choose. 

I wouldn’t say the story is…completely finished. It needs a deep edit, and I want to, at some point, write a couple alternate chapters, as well as an alternate ending (or two) at some point in the future. That said, it was fin to write, and contains a lot of…well, it has a wide variety of fetish stuff in it, but is largely focused on micro and shrinking. 

If you’re curious, here’s an excerpt! You can download it using the link above, or click here!

Excerpt from “The Familiar”

“Arthur, come inside,” Derrick said again, but this time there was something else attached to the words. The only word that came to his mind was…power, but when he heard them, he suddenly didn’t have control over his own body. He tried to back up, but instead he stepped up into the house, and Derrick closed the door behind him, and locked it.

Arthur looked down at himself, confused by his body’s sudden rebellion. “How did you do that?”

“You’re mine now, Arthur. You’re going to find it rather difficult to disobey a direct order of mine from now on.”

Arthur looked up at Derrick, terrified by what he’d just said, but his friend was just grinning, obviously self-satisfied, but not particularly malicious, and that…eased his concern slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I…No, hold up, you need to tell me, right now, what the fuck is going on here, because I have felt, all day, like I’m going crazy, and now I’m pretty sure I’ve gone insane. So…so please, what’s…happening to me?”

Derrick smiled, but didn’t say anything–just took a hand and placed it to Arthur’s bearded cheek, only for them both to feel a large static shock leap between them. “Hot damn!” Derrick cried, and unlike Mark…Arthur could see the spark running up Derrick’s arm and around his neck, down his other arm until it ended up in his hand, just hovering there as a tiny ball of light. Derrick shivered, and lifted it up to examine it like this was somehow expected, and gave a whistle. “That’s a bit more potent than I was expecting it to be. You’re going to be a pretty impressive conduit here soon.”

“What in the hell is that thing?”

“This,” Derrick said, holding the small light close to Arthur’s face, “Is magic. A rather crude, unfocused magic, but magic all the same. Your magic, I suppose I should say, since it came from you,” he waved his hand, and the little ball of light came apart into a few flickering motes of light, and dissipated. “Pretty powerful stuff, as I said. You must have had a bit of potential in you already.”

Arthur just backed up a step, and then went for the door, trying to get it unlocked so he could run away and never come back to this strange place again, but the deadbolt wouldn’t turn in his hand, “What’s up with this thing?”

“It’s enchanted. It only works when I turn it.”

Arthur kept trying for a moment, and then looked back at Derrick. “This…this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“It sure is little man,” Derrick said, “now come on. Let’s have some tea and talk for a little bit. But take off those clothes–you’re going to be naked in this house from now on, understand?”

Arthur tried to protest, but his hands were already stripping off his tie, his shirt, his pants and underwear–none of which fit him much at all any longer anyway, but he still felt…embarrassed to be completely naked beside the fully clothed Derrick. Humiliated and…small, and even a bit…inhuman. His cock started to get hard at the thought, much to his embarrassment, and he willed it back down before Derrick could notice, as he followed him into the living room and sat down on his sofa, waiting for Derrick to bring them tea. He came back with two cups, set one down in front of Arthur on the coffee table, and carried the other over to an armchair, where he settled down. Arthur stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but Derrick just smelled his tea, and took a sip. “I suppose,” he said at last, “I might as well start off by telling you that I’m a wizard.”

“A wizard.”

“Yes. I received my powers from…a mentor, about 200 years ago.”

“You’re 200 years old? Are you kidding me?”

“I was born in 1784, in Philadelphia. I met my mentor in 1802, and became his successor in 1815.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that.”

Derrick shrugged. “It sounds impossible, I know. But you’re the little man shrinking as we speak, with magic sparks coming out of your hands, so you tell me something more plausible.”

Arthur blushed again, pushing away his arousal at being called a little man again. “Alright. So you’re a wizard, and what, you cast a spell on me?”

“Essentially. Less a spell, and more an…enchantment. It’s a blurry line really, it’s all just magic at the end of the day, regardless of what you call it.”

“So what? I just keep shrinking then? How small am I going to get exactly?”

“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure.”

“You’re not sure? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I mean, you could end up within a…range of sizes. I’d rather not spoil the surprise for either of us.”

This isn’t fucking funny, Derrick!” Arthur said, standing up from the couch, “This is my fucking life you’re fucking with! What fucking right do you fucking have, doing this to me? I was happy, you know? I mean, I had my fantasies, and that’s what they were–fantasies, and now you think you have permission to just fuck up my entire world, for fucking what? Because you think this is what I want? How am I supposed to go to work, if I’m a foot tall? How am I supposed to buy food? Is this just some fucking joke to you?”

“Arthur, sit down, and drink some tea.”

He sat, as much as he tried to stay standing, snatched up his mug from the table and took a sip. Whatever the brew was, it was…soothing, and he relaxed somewhat. “You could have at least asked me. Or warned me, or something.”

Derrick laughed, “If I’d told you, you would have never taken me seriously, you know that.”


“Look, Arthur,” Derrick leaned forward, “I…like you. You’re young and a bit silly, but you’re charming, you listen, and you’re patient. But I also felt sorry for you. People…so many people wander the world, thinking they can never have what they want, and I wanted to give you this.”

“But what if…I don’t want this?”

“But you do want this.”

“Yeah, but–”

“Arthur, don’t fucking lie to me. I know you want this.”

The words had borne that same force, and when Arthur tried to retort again, his tongue locked up, unable to deny it a third time. “Alright. I do want this. I am…really turned on right now. I am also incredible terrified of you, and of all of this. I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t understand how any of this is possible.” He was shaking, and took another sip of tea to settle his nerves back down. “I don’t understand why you want to be around me. I…really like you. I just…what if you don’t like me? What if I just disappoint you?”

“Come on over here, little man,” Derrick said, and patted his knee as he sat up. Arthur got up from the sofa, taking his tea with him and walked around the table, to sit down on Derrick’s knee. He was still a fairly normal height, but sitting there made him feel small anyway, and as he did, another spark leapt from his skin, running all over Derrick’s body. He watched it this time–and it looked like the spark was trying to get…inside him, but something kept rebuffing it. “Goodness, you are just full of energy, aren’t you?” He caught the spark in his hand again and held it, observing it.

“What…is that, exactly? Why does it keep coming out of me like that?”

“Well, the spell I cast on you was a bit more than just a shrinking spell, I should say. We wizards often use familiars in our work–animals we enchant and imbue with magical spells, power and intellect. Part of the spell I cast on you linked us together–me as master, you as a…kind of familiar. That’s why you have to obey my commands, and why you have this magic rubbing off of you. I’ll help you learn to control it in time, but for now, these are…pretty raw,” he looked closer, “and pretty sexy, actually. You must be horny.”

“What do you mean?”

Derrick laughed, “Wanna see for yourself?”

Before Arthur could ask him what he meant, a strange membrane of energy rose up from Derrick’s skin and surrounded the spark of energy Arthur had shot out, and then the entire thing began to drop down, touched to the palm of his hand and went…into him. Derrick gave a shiver, and groaned. “What…did you just do?”

“I let you do what you want to do to me,” Derrick said, smiling down at him, “It was your spell, after all.”

“I didn’t want–” Arthur started to say, but his tongue locked up, as he realized he’d been caught in a lie without even realizing it, making Derrick laugh. “What’s going to happen to you?”

“Woo, it’s starting to kick in a bit. Get up little man,” Derrick said, and Arthur slid off his knee and backed up, letting Derrick stand up tall and…taller than usual even. In fact, more than that was different–Derrick’s beard, which was usually fairly short, looked bushier than it had been, and his short hair was pulling back into his scalp. “Better get out of this shit,” he said, shucking his clothes off, revealing a body substantially more hairy than Arthur recalled it being, with a bit more grey than usual too. “Fuck little man, I hope you’re fucking ready for this, because I like where you’re going here,” he said, stroking his cock, getting it hard. It was already sizable, but now, along with the rest of him, it was even larger by three or four inches. “We’d better take this upstairs,” Derrick said with a bit of a snarl, grabbed Arthur and swung him into his arms, leaned in and kissed him, shoving his tongue into his mouth with a growl. The force of it–Derrick had never been rough like this before, but it was turning Arthur on in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

After some kissing and mutual lip biting, Derrick headed for the stairs of his house, easily taking them three at a time. Arthur looked down from where he was being held in his arms and felt a bit of vertigo–he seemed…higher off the ground than he should be. Derrick kicked open the bedroom door, ducked under the doorframe, went in and dropped Arthur onto the bed–he fell a couple of feet and bounced on the mattress, looking up at Derrick looming over him. “Uhh…Derrick, how…are you taller, or am I shorter?”

Derrick had to shake his head, his longer beard waving a bit as he did, to focus on something other than how much he wanted to plow Arthur’s hole. He looked at himself in the mirror on the wall–he had to be close to eight feet tall, judging by how close he was to the ten foot ceilings. He was thicker everywhere, hairier everywhere, and his entire brain seemed to be wired for sex. It was a good thing he’d sealed the spell in a barrier to make it easy to reverse, because if this had gotten into him as it was, it would have taken quite a bit more effort to get back. Still, that was for later–now was for fucking. He forced Arthur onto his belly, Arthur trying to object as Derrick ran his cock up and down his crack before forcing the thick head against his hole, and like rubber, it simply opened up to accept it. The sheer pleasure of the sensation caught Arthur by surprise, moaning and clutching the sheets, pushing back, eager to have more of the cock inside of him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to take me no matter what fucking size you are, little man,” Derrick growled, pushing in deeper, “Comes with your new position in life.”

“Fuck, how…”

“Shut up, quit worrying, and fucking enjoy it. Don’t forget; this is what you fucking wanted, so I’m gonna fucking give it to you.”

Derrick plowed him deep for almost an entire hour. Arthur lost track of how many loads of cum shot out of his own cock, the sheets beneath him soaked with semen by the time Derrick started pumping faster, snorting and huffing and letting loose a huge load, flooding his ass with so much cum that it spewed back out as he continued fucking. It wasn’t too much longer before Derrick hauled himself out, panting for breath. “Fuck, I could fucking do that, fucking all over again.”

Arthur just moaned where he was on the bed–as exhausted as he was, the fuck had left him thrumming with excitement. He’d never just been…used like that before. Like a toy, or an object. He hadn’t really known how much he’d needed that in his life, until now. He rolled back over and looked at Derrick, who had kept growing for the first bit of their fuck. He was now close to nine feet tall, hulking with muscle, a thick gut covered with hair, a grey beard to his pecs and a completely bald scalp. “You’re one of the sexiest men I’ve ever fucking seen,” he muttered to himself.

“Be careful what you say, or you’re going to get me going all over again,” Derrick said, and slowed his breathing. He held out his hand and the sphere appeared again, light included, and with a wave from his fingers he made it vanish into the air. The changes began to revert soon after, Derrick slowly shrinking back down to his normal height, beard drawing back in as his hair grew back out. “I’m…sorry about that. If I’d know it was going to be that strong, I would have been a bit more careful.”

“Don’t apologize.” Arthur said. “I…liked it. A lot.”

The Familiar by wesleybracken

The Eleventh Day of Christmas

Santa had been curious about how Lars and Drew were going to turn out, but the spell had been so strong both of them had fallen back to sleep immediately, and he was almost done with his long night. Still…there was one person–and one fuck–he hadn’t quite been able to get out of his mind all night long. The Christmas party at the Bear’s Den was still going strong, even though the doors had been locked–that just meant it was time for the orgy. And one of the star players, there in the middle of it all, wearing his “Sexy Santa 2013” sash was Claude, a slender cub in a sling, and he was drilling his hole while the young man groaned.

“You like Santa’s present for you this year boy?”

“Oh yes sir! Thank you Santa…” the cub said, and Santa smirked. He hadn’t gotten a present from the real Santa yet, but he had an idea of what to give him. Claude gave a groan as he felt something change in the cub’s ass, and suddenly he could feel the muscles of the chute working overdrive, vibrating and pulling at his cock. The cub was just as surprised, as his super powered ass flooded him with pleasure, and his cock shot a huge load even as Claude buried in deep, unable to hold back any longer, and then stumbled back, letting another bear take his turn with the cub’s magic, sucking ass.

Claude looked over his shoulder, panting a bit, and smiled when he saw Santa sitting on a barstool, watching him back. He strode over and gave Santa’s nipple a tweak, and grinned, “I thought you couldn’t make the party?”

“Well, it looks like I made it to the after party after all. Besides, I didn’t want to have to compete against you,” he said, lifting Claude’s banner and winking, chuffing on his cigar, “I’m afraid it might have been a bit hard to go up against the real thing.” Claude could sense that Santa had something he was trying to work up to saying, but he wasn’t sure what exactly. He didn’t say anything back, letting Santa mull it over, before it finally spilled out. “You know, it was a year ago today that the old bitch I had hanging around for the last few centuries up and ditched me for some cubans in Miami, can you believe that?”

“Heh, well, it doesn’t seem like you’re missing her much.”

“I’m not…” Santa said, and stood up off the barstool, putting his arms around Claude, “It’s been a wild year, but…I miss…I suppose what I mean to say, is if you feel like freezing your ass off in some chaps at the North Pole, there’s a position open…if you don’t mind hanging around for a good long while.”

Claude grinned, took Santa’s cigar and puffed on it, “My ass was that good eh?”

“Heh…yeah, your ass was that good–and the rest of you isn’t bad either. So what do you say?”

“I suppose you can call me Mr. Claus if you want,” Claude said, and gave Santa a deep kiss, feeling the old man’s relief flood into him in a breath of immortality, feeling full of energy all over again, their cocks hardening together…and his was even getting bigger. In fact, he was changing again, but more subtly this time, his bread thicker and growing down to his chest, a thick pelt of white hair filling in across his body, and when he pulled back, and looked at his new husband, it honestly felt like it was meant to be.

“Come on, I want you to fuck me in the sleigh, big boy,” Santa said, gripping Claude’s new, thick cock, “Santa can’t do all the fucking after all.”