Alafar

Caine smiled and folded his arms as he looked at officer Wilson like he hadn't heard the question.

"We know you had involvement with the stolen goods Caine and they have find traces of drugs at the scene. It cannot be a coincidence that you were just happened to be nearby. Either tell us where you stashed the goods or who you helped?" Officer Wilson said exasperated, he must have arrested and interrogated Caine a dozen times and every time he managed to get away with barely even a warning.

"I told you already it wasn't me and I have given a detailed description of the culprit to your mate outside" Caine said with a smirk.

Officer Wilson gritted his teeth, he was fed up of this cocky, arrogant, little shit getting away with causing so much havoc. "Ah yes. Your witness statement" Officer Wilson then held up a piece of paper before looking at Caine with a devious look.

"So can I go now, I've got places to be, mates to meet and birds to bang!" Caine said making himself laugh a little, but Officer Wilson was in no mood to joke.

Caine smiled and folded his arms as he looked at officer Wilson like he hadn't heard the question.

"We know you had involvement with the stolen goods Caine and they have find traces of drugs at the scene. It cannot be a coincidence that you were just happened to be nearby. Either tell us where you stashed the goods or who you helped?" Officer Wilson said exasperated, he must have arrested and interrogated Caine a dozen times and every time he managed to get away with barely even a warning.

"I told you already it wasn't me and I have given a detailed description of the culprit to your mate outside" Caine said with a smirk.

Officer Wilson gritted his teeth, he was fed up of this cocky, arrogant, little shit getting away with causing so much havoc. "Ah yes. Your witness statement" Officer Wilson then held up a piece of paper before looking at Caine with a devious look.

"So can I go now, I've got places to be, mates to meet and birds to bang!" Caine said making himself laugh a little, but Officer Wilson was in no mood to joke.

You can think of a few reasons why you found yourself in the audience that night. Well, really one. When you heard "Are You Smarter Than A Himbo" was putting on a show in your neighborhood, you couldn't resist. Sure, it was kind of stupid. You'd seen the clips online. They'd bring some braindead jock up on stage to flex, laugh, crack jokes, and answer basic trivia wrong. The poor idiot would laugh along as the audience laughed at him. You'd always figured the dunce was too dumb to realize they were laughing at him. But fuck, those guys were hot. So if anything, you'd get to ogle at some hot guy flexing all night and maybe get a few laughs out of it too.

"Do you think Zak's pecs are real?"

"Jason is like totally the hottest."

"I think Ryan isn't as dumb as he lets on."

"Did you know Mike is single? I can't…"

You roll your eyes at the fanfare all around you. These people were seriously into it. And then it starts.

"Welcome everyone!" You watch as a lanky man struts on stage with his hair slicked back and a wide grin on his face, "Are you ready!?" The crowd- mostly women and a few guys cheered in response, "I said: are you ready!?" You roll your eyes as the host worked the crowd, "Alright, alright… welcome." The host smiles wider, "Put your hands together for our main man!"

The host gestures toward the side of the stage and Zak strolls out with a slow, confident walk, his arms flexed as if expecting applause. He’s got thick curls falling over his forehead, and his chest is packed with muscle, tight under his white tank top. The crowd goes wild as he steps onto the platform.

“Y’all ready?” Zak shouts, raising both arms above his head. “Let’s go!” He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, and your eyes widen as you take in his massive pecs and perfect abs. The crowd similarly goes wild. Zak grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth, "I'm so fuckin' pumped to be here tonight! I fuckin' love you guys!"

"But Zak, I think you have something to say to everyone. Right?" The host interjects, patting the massive jock on the back.

"Yo dude yeah, for real." Zak nods, "Like, this is gonna be my last show, ya know? With the whole modeling thing blowin' up and all." The audience groans, "I know, it sucks majorly, trust me!" Zak frowns, "But like, you'll get to see plenty more of me. Trust me brahs." He winks and the crowd cheers.

The host claps, "That’s what I like to hear! Alright, let’s get started!"

You lean forward in your seat as the first audience member is brought up. It only takes a few questions for her to utterly humiliate Zak, who just laughs and flexes like the dumb himbo that he is. As the contestant returns to her seat, the host's eyes scan the crowd, zeroing in on you.

"What about you there in the blue shirt? He looks smart, right Zak? Let's get you up here!"

Initially you're shocked. You? The host gestures for you to make your way up to the stage. You can feel your heart pounding as you climb the stairs, palms feeling a little sweaty. The bright lights, all eyes on you. And as you step onto the stage, you get an up close look of Zak. His biceps bulge impressively, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But god he smells like a wet gym sock.

"Sup bro, nice to meetcha!" Zak grins and throws a muscular arm around you, "Dude, you ready for this?"

"Aw do I sense a budding bromance?" The host grins and the crowd cheers. After settling them down, he turns to you. "You know how this works by now. Do you think you're smarter than a himbo?"

"Yeah, I think I am." You reply.

"Heh we'll see about that, bro!" Zak guffaws, "I was just goin' easy on that last chick."

"The confidence!" The host laughs, "Let's put it to the test. Your first question: Which is the only sea without any coastlines?"

You ponder for a moment. A sea without a coastline? That's... god what was that? You feel your cheeks flushing red, as you realize you don't know the answer to that. But if you don't know the answer, Zak would definitely not know either. Speaking of Zak, he's bouncing his pecs like the oversized gym bro he is.

"Is it the Caspian Sea?" You shrug, eyes still locked on his massive pecs. Of course the host shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.

"Ah, seems Mr. Smartypants here was a bit too distracted admiring the view to ace that question!" He winks at the audience, while Zak flexes.

"No shame in that, brah!"

You feel your face flush red with embarrassment as the laughter from the audience washes over you. Great, now they all think you're just another hormone-addled fool who can't string two thoughts together because of a pretty face.

"Alright Zak, a question for you now buddy!" You figure Zak is about to bomb this question anyway- round will end in a tie and you can walk away with some dignity, "What color are bananas?"

Zak scratches his head, "Dude… tricky." He chuckles, low and dumb, "So, I want to say yellow, but also green when they're not ripe. Oh but brown too if they go for too long!"

"Fantastic answer Zak! Well thought out!" The host grins as the crowd cheers, "Uh oh, looks like Zak has pulled ahead!"

The fuck kind of question was that? You look at the host and then Zak, who is doing a victory dance. The color of bananas? Of course Zak would know that- he's a fucking ape. You smirk at your own joke.

"Okay okay, let's try another one! Mr. Smartypants, are you ready to redeem yourself?" You're ready, more than ready. You're not..., "What pigments are responsible for the red color of leaves?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't have an answer for that. Maybe you did know it, but between the flexing stud and the stage fright, you couldn't find the information.

"Chlorophyll."

"What a shame! That is not correct." He smiles at the audience, "It seems Zak may have a chance to widen his lead! Hey big guy, what day of the month is Christmas celebrated on?" It takes Zak maybe a minute or two to answer that one correctly, "Look at that folks, Zak is now up by two!" He turns to you with a grin, "Seems our guest is not much of a smartypants after all!"

Again, your face flush reds, "No worries, little dude." Zak ruffles your hair, "I uh, I got some smarts, ya know." He looks out towards the audience, "Last show brahs but first win!"

The crowd cheers and it dawns on you that you might be the first person to actually lose this stupid game. Frustration bubbles up inside you as the host and crowd continue to mock you. You're better than this, smarter than being made a fool of. Screw it, you're going to show them all up.

"I could answer every single one of those easy-ass questions he's getting," you mutter under your breath, but the mic picks it up anyway. The host's eyes light up.

"Oh ho, is that so?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features. "Well then, why don't you prove it, hot shot? Let's see if you can handle something a little more…your speed. Here we go bud - how does the body cool down during intense exercise like a heavy workout session?"

You chuckle. Really? This was the question? You clear your voice, "Sweating. That's how it keeps from overheating."

"Correct!"

"Woah bro, nice one!"

Yeah... that was a nice one. Finally got a question right... finally... You wince as a warmth fills your upper arms. At first it's just a gentle tingling, a warm buzzing beneath your skin. But quickly it builds to a throbbing, insistent pressure.

"What the…?"

The sensation intensifies, an intensifying heat pulsing through your upper arms. Your skin prickles and tightens as your biceps and triceps stretch against the sleeve of your shirt. It feels like the most intense pump after a grueling workout, but magnified tenfold. Your arms throbbing, aching. You feel aware of just how much more space they're taking up. And the twitching- it's incessant. Unconsciously, your arms start to rise, muscles tensing, flexing…

"Whoa…" you mutter, marveling at the sheer size and density of your upper arms, "How…?"

The host clears his throat pointedly, breaking you out of your awestruck reverie. "Ahem, moving on! Thanks for that… demonstration." He shoots you a knowing wink, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if we can't challenge that big ol' brain of yours with another question, shall we? What does the acronym SBD stand for in powerlifting?"

"Oh brah, way too easy." Zak chides, crossing his massive arms over his muscular chest, "Even I know that one."

But your head is swimming. The powerful feeling in your arms send pleasurable waves of warmth through your body. But your mind. You're reviewing the question. Thinking it through. SBD? In powerlifting?

"SBD... SBD..." You rub your chin, unconsciously flexing your now massive bicep, "Huh... like... That's uh..."

You look over at Zak and he's making some kind of motion. A goofy grin on his face as he squats. Squats. Squats!

"Bro!" You grin, "Squats, dude! Yeah, that's what the S stands for." You grin, but the host shakes his head, "C'mon what?" You pout.

"You're still forgetting the rest." The host smiles, "And the timer is counting down."

You shuffle anxiously on your feet. You know this, right? But why would you? You're not into powerlifting. But like, it should be easy. If S stands for squats then like, wouldn't B and D also be something to do with working out? Yeah? Totally, that makes sense. But like, what else is there? What other... huh... shirt is getting kinda tight too. And fuck, you can't help but notice how warm your chest feels. Nice and warm, pressing more and more against the fabric of your shirt. Stretching it out against your big, meaty...

"Bench press, brah! B stands for bench press!" You say with a grin as your shirt starts to tear away, revealing a set of massive pecs and a chiseled torso, "Huh where'd my shirt go?" The audience cheers and you grin, staring down as you bounce your pecs.

"Excellent job, but unfortunately, you didn't finish. You missed D, you big dunce."

The host laughs, and you laugh along with him and the audience. Big dunce. Yeah that's... that's you? You pause for a second and start to feel that same embarrassment from earlier. They're laughing... not with you, but...

"Dude, can't win em all!" Zak slaps you on your increasingly wider back and you turn to him- now at eye-level, "But like, brah, you've got this next one!"

"Y-y-you th-think so.... brah?" Your tongue feels heavy, the words feel sluggish. You notice your voice sounds deeper to your ears, "I..."

"You have to focus there, smartypants!" The host interrupts, "Two more questions. Are you ready?" You nod slowly, "In a deadlift, how high are you supposed to lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Deadlift..." Your eyes light up suddenly, "Wait, bro! The D! That's what D stands for, brah!" You say excitedly.

The whole audience laughs, as does the host. You look at him, feeling a strange sense of confusion bubbling up. Why were they laughing? What was so funny?

"Good job there, but that was the last question. We've moved on, big guy."

"Oh..." You chuckle, a grin forming on your lips as you let out a deep, dumb laugh, "Huhuhuh that was pretty stupid of me." The audience and the host laugh even louder, and you find yourself joining in, "Alright, gotta lock in, gotta... brah what was the question?"

"Dead lifts..."

"Oh fuck yeah! I fuckin' love deadlifts."

The host grins, "Yes, exactly! So tell us, when doing a deadlift, how high do you lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Yeah... uh..." You bite your lip, thinking hard. Your fingers drum against your swollen bicep as you try to concentrate and with a sigh, lift your hands behind your head, "Oh nice..."

Your eyes lock on to your bulging bis and tris and you're momentarily distracted. But the sharp tang of your own musk drifts up from your armpits, momentarily derailing your train of thought. Fuck, you smell good. Really fucking good. But since when did you...?

"Brah, c'mon you got this." Zak says, watching you closely.

You shake your head and run a hand through your perfectly gelled, styled hair, before pausing- fuck your aesthetic is probably cooked. You awkwardly pat at your hair.

"Worry about your hair later, you've got a question to answer." The host says.

"Fuck, sorry..." You let out an awkward chuckle, "Just gotta..."

Your body moves instinctively into the proper deadlift position—back straight, knees slightly bent, hips pushed back—as if you've done this 1000s of times before. As you demonstrate the form flawlessly, a new awareness floods your lower body. Your glutes feel… alive. Heavy. Round. Perfect. You grin as you squeeze them unconsciously, feeling the dense muscle fibers contract.

"The answer is hips, bro."

"Let's fuckin' go, brah!" Zak cheers and slaps you on the ass, sending a wave of intense pleasure reverberating through your meaty glutes.

As the crowd cheers, your eyes lock on Zak. The pleasure from him slapping your ass still making you shudder. You drink him in, fixated on the prominent bulge straining against his gym shorts.

"Fuck..." You mumble- he's packing serious heat there.

Your mouth waters involuntarily as fantasies flood your mind- Zak pinning you down, those huge hands squeezing your meaty ass while he drives his massive cock deep inside you. The image of you riding his thick cock sends shivers down your growing frame, and you imagine running your tongue over every inch of his sweat-slick skin. You lick your lips and grin at the thought.

When your eyes meet again, Zak doesn't look away. Instead, his smirk widens as he catches you staring, and the few brain cells he has recognize exactly what you’re thinking. He flexes for the audience, but he turns to give you a quick wink, letting you know all that flexing was just for you... because he wants you to know he wants you too. After all, you know there's not way he could resist you either. With your... bulging pecs? Massive arms? Thick glutes?

"Wait..." You mumble. You can feel the rusting gears in your increasingly empty head turn ever so slightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Your head was spinning, brain trying to make sense of all of it.

Something’s off, right? Like... this ain’t how it used to be. You know that. You weren’t… this. But then... what were you then, dude? Cause, like, look at you. Seriously... just look. You’re absolutely shredded. I mean, c’mon, those arms? That chest? You don’t just wake up lookin’ this jacked without bein’… well, this guy. So how could you not be you if you straight-up look like you? Right?

A dumb chuckle escapes your lips as all that thinking overwhelms and shuts down whatever last remaining brain cells you have.

The host snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your haze. "Earth to bro, we still got one question."

"Huh? Wha-" You blink slowly, your expression vacant and slack. Drool slips down your chin as you stare blankly ahead.

"Are you smarter than a himbo?" The host grins.

"Nawww, bro, 'course not!" You reply with a big, dumb grin spreading across your face, "Can't be smarter than a himbo cuz… I AM the fuckin' himbo, bro!"

The host laughs, shaking his head, "Well folks, I guess that settles it! Looks like we've got ourselves a new resident himbo to take Zak's place. Give it up for… COLT!"

The audience erupts into cheers and applause as you beam proudly, basking in the spotlight. You feel Zak sling a muscular arm around your broad shoulders, squeezing you close.

"Dude, so fuckin' glad you're joinin' the fam, bro!" Zak enthuses, his hand drifting lower to grope your ass possessively, "Trust me bro, you're gonna love it."

Zak's strong grip on your juicy ass makes you shudder and you can tell by that grin that he's thinking exactly what you're thinking.

The host clears his throat loudly, snapping you out of your lustful stupor. "Don't forget to wave to the crowd, champ!" He gestures encouragingly towards the audience.

With a dopey grin, you raise a hand in greeting, relishing the adoration pouring in from all sides.

"Thanks y'all, this is gonna be fuckin' sick!" You call out enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot.

And as Zak digs his fingers into your massive ass, you lick your lips hungrily. The only thought in your empty head was that once this show was over, you'd be giving him a private encore performance that neither of you would forget…

Tyler bolted out of bed at the crack of dawn. Muscle memory from the past season hadn’t worn off yet, and he was used to being at practice by 7 am. The first rays of sunlight lit up his bedroom wall, cascading down onto his chiseled body. Ever since he’d started working out in high school, he’d slept shirtless to admire his hard work. Years later as captain of his college lacrosse team he still loved waking up daily to his perfectly sculpted pecs and abs. Today was the first Saturday of his last summer break ever, and he wanted to start the season off right. A mineral spa had recently opened in his college town, advertised as the perfect thing for athletes like him to relax and unwind, to take care of their bodies after pushing them all year long. 

After scarfing down some scrambled eggs for breakfast, he grabbed his swim trunks and towel hopped in the car, eager to have a full day of decompression. Luckily, the spa also opened early, knowing their target market well. He walked through the automatic doors and was immediately transported away from the small town atmosphere. A gentle mist filled the room that smelled of lavender, and there were waterfalls lining the walls that created a soothing background of bubbling water sounds. 

“Hello! Welcome in,” 

A voice broke through the soundscape that Tyler had found himself lost in. He then noticed a man behind the counter at the end of the room. Dressed in a tight black tank top with a name badge, the man was clearly showing off his own built physique as well as his impressive amount of body hair. Thick tufts of hair puffed out from the low neckline and across his shoulders. Tyler was shocked that this spa let its employees dress like this, as well as a little disgusted by the display, but with no other options he approached the counter.

“Hi there, I’m here for, uh-” Tyler paused, looking up at the boards absolutely covered with dozens of different spa treatment options. “The uh, is there one that’s good for athletes?” He asked, giving up on scouring the list.

“For sure!” The man eagerly responded, “For muscle relaxation and care, we recommend the Bruin Bundle, it’s our most potent spa pool, with mineral water from an authentic Hungarian bath house. We guarantee you’ll come out a changed man!” He finished with a laugh.

Tyler looked for that option on the board. It was a bit steep price-wise, but he’d decided to take better care of himself this summer, and that began with putting the money where his mouth was. “Alright, I’ll go with that,” he said assuredly.

“Great, just follow me back to the locker room and you’ll be set,” The man gestured as he walked through a small doorway to the right. 

Tyler followed him into the back, passing by several open doorways to different pools and saunas each with a different look and smell to them. Most were empty but a few had other guys in them, all looking like they were lost in relaxation. As they passed by he even swore he heard some moans echoing from behind. I guess if they’re alone in a spa, he thought to himself. They stopped in front of a doorway leading to a large steaming pool reminiscent of an old world bath house, with ornate stone carving and marble.

“This here is your spa, one of my personal favorites,” the man said with a wink before turning around. “And here is your changing room. We recommend bathing fully nude but it’s up to you, many also use swimsuits. Either way, we hope you enjoy your time here!”

The man then left Tyler alone. He’d never been to any kind of spa like this so he was a tad apprehensive about the whole thing, but decided to try and lean into it and have a good time. He sat on a bench and took off his shirt, shorts, and socks, before stuffing them in a locker. Tyler paused as he stood in the doorway.

“Ah, screw it.”

He pulled off his boxer briefs and threw them into the locker as well. Darting quickly across the hall in case others were walking down, he stood at the edge of the large bubbling and steaming pool. Moisture was already starting to bead on his face just from looking at the water. Without another thought he stepped down into the pool, hot water splashing against his legs as he entered. He decided to sit on one of the ledges a few inches below the water, leaving his upper half to steam. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and let the sounds of flowing water and bubbles lull him to rest.

Some time later, Tyler was roused from sleep by an odd sensation. He’d been at ease with the underwater jets blowing against his legs, but now there seemed to be some resistance, as if his legs were covered in algae. The feeling was strange enough to wake him, and before his eyes were fully focused he pushed himself out of the water onto the dry landing behind him. His heart stopped. His legs were fully coated, not with plants, but with hair.

Thick, black hair blanketed both his legs and feet, his hard earned muscle lying beneath a forest of dark strands that stretched from his toes to his thighs. The back of each toe had dozens of hairs popping out, the tops of his feet were nearly hidden under a field of black hairs, glued to his skin by the water dripping off him. The hair only got thicker and denser as it climbed up over his ankles, swirling around his shins and calves, encircling his legs in a solid mat of fur. The hair continued up over his knees to his beefy thighs, which seemed even larger now than they did before. The vast expanse of his quads served as the base for an endless forest of dark, wiry hair that similarly connected around to his hamstrings, entombing his legs completely in a furry prison. They prickled still, as more hairs continued to pop up all over them, sending shivers across Tyler’s body.

Tyler’s jaw hung open, unable to fully process what he was seeing. His thoughts ablaze with horror, yet he couldn’t bring himself to scream or cry. All he could do was slowly move his hand towards his leg, a deep curiosity taking hold, needing to know what it felt like. His fingers brushed through the thick strands, feeling them stick together from the water caught between them. The sensation was electric, involuntarily causing a soft moan to slip out from Tyler’s mouth. His other hand got involved, and quickly his horror shifted to ecstasy. Something about the steam in the room had got him feeling light headed, worries slipping away as he began to appreciate what was transpiring in the pool. 

The prickling feeling had begun to migrate from his legs upwards. His groin, still dripping wet, began to darken as small black points dotted the skin. Spreading up from his thighs, the pinpricks coalesced around the base of his cock, from where they quickly began growing from dark points into thick hairs. Each follicle activated pushed out a jet black, thick, curly hair, each of which seemed to keep growing far beyond normal. The nascent bush was taking shape, more and more black hairs poking out from his groin as the area in the center grew darker and denser. Tyler’s cock began to inflate, no longer laying hidden under the growing forest of pubes but stretched proudly outwards. He’d always been proud of the size of his cock, a respectable seven inches with decent girth, but it quickly began to push beyond its old limitations. Tyler moaned again as his cock grew past eight, nine, to ten inches, thickening the entire time. Hairs began poking out of the shaft itself, coating the lower part in matching fur to the skin around. 

This was enough to draw Tyler’s attention to his sprouting bush, and while a part of him, deep in the back of his head, wanted to scream, he instead was more turned on than ever before. A large glob of precum leaked from the end of his cock, and he moved one of his hands to grasp the massive member. The other hand migrated from his hairy thighs to his newly hairy groin, feeling the springy, wiry hairs tangling with each other. The forest growing in his crotch continued to spread, hairs sprouting outwards and upwards, a trail beginning to stretch past his navel. The classic triangle filled in, darkening as hairs grew thicker and filled in. Tyler’s breath hitched in a moment of strain. In seconds, his balls swelled to twice their size, stretching his sack to its limit. His scrotum slowly caught up and loosened its grasp, but not before his balls bulged again, forcing a pained groan out of Tyler. He was now left with two baseball sized nuts hanging beneath his cock. Not to be left out, his scrotum began to prickle as the same kinky black hairs erupted across the empty expanse. The hair plunged down, coating his sack before stretching past, his taint sprouting a rug of thick hairs, quickly tangling into an impenetrable mass.

Tyler’s body was awash with pleasure. His newly grown fur felt unreal, and the more he looked at it, played with it, stroked his much larger cock, the more he realized something.

He needed more.

Without hesitation he pushed himself off of the ledge and back into the water, fully up to his neck this time. The hot water swirled around his body, warming him to the core. Bubbles jetted against his hairy legs, drifting up his body. He felt at ease, wading around the pool. Over the sound of the nearby fountains and jets he heard a loud moan from a different spa room, and he couldn’t help but grin. Someone else was having their own transformative moment, and who knows into what.

After a few minutes of soaking, the prickling sensation slowly reared its head again. He could feel it start in his groin, the bush thickening up one last bit underwater. The slight tingle spread upwards, across his abs and up into his pecs. His body shuddered involuntarily as muscle began to grow, his already built body putting on more mass. His chiseled physique, however, started to fade as his body softened slightly, still growing larger but with more fat. Tyler should’ve been horrified at the loss of definition, but in the slight haze caused by the steam he didn’t mind all the much, in fact he saw appeal in this new beefier body.

The grin plastered on Tyler’s face grew larger when he saw dark pinpricks beginning to appear between his pecs. His muscles twitched as dark hairs blossomed from his chest, swirling outwards from his nipples. The waves of hair collided in the center, curling and tangling together between the mounds of muscle that quickly darkened under a growing field of fur. The hairs continued their spread, reaching up over his collarbone and out towards his sides. The budding treasure trail down at his navel had its own explosive growth, with hairs shooting up all across his stomach, connecting up to his chest hair and coating his entire abdomen under a fuzzy rug.

Tyler’s hands started to itch, and he giddily brought them up near the surface of the water to watch closely. Whatever part of him had felt fear and horror at his hirsute changes had been stifled, buried beneath a new laid back, hair loving side of him. His excitement grew as he saw small dark hairs piercing through the backs of his fingers, wiggling as they pushed out longer and longer. The back of his hands began to darker, with hundreds of follicles activating across his hands, shooting out dark hairs that wove together into thick mats. The hairs climbed up over his wrists with no issue, burying the joint beneath a seamless layer of hair. His forearms itched as thousands of hairs began to erupt across them, within seconds the skin was no longer visible at all. Just a solid rug of black hair reaching from hand to elbow, and they weren’t done yet.

His hands cracked slightly as his palms grew and coarsened, his fingers thickened. His forearms enlarged, feeling the effects of years of manual labor rather than gym workouts. His biceps and triceps grew as well but lost definition, softened too like his torso. The upper arms, normally free from hair, were not spared. Dark wiry hairs spread up from his forearm, coating his muscles on all sides before beginning to creep up onto his shoulders.

Tyler felt the prickling sensation climbing up his arms and landing in his pits, growing in intensity as it sat in place. He raised one arm out of curiosity and revealed a quickly growing tuft. Dark hairs were pushing out of his pit at an impressive rate, growing longer and thicker as he watched. The hairs swayed gently in the currents, looking like an undersea ecosystem that was flourishing. Hairs kept popping up, curling and tangling in with the rest, as the armpit tuft spread outwards. The fur connected seamlessly with his arm hair and quickly grew to merge into his chest hair. His pit continued to darken as more and more hairs pushed out, coming up between older hairs and thickening the massive thatch of hair into one that would always poke out. He could imagine the thick curly wiry hairs trapping an incredible amount of sweat, he’d always have a manly musk from now on.

From his pit, the hairs marched upwards onto his shoulder, burying it beneath an inch of hair as vast areas of skin disappeared in mere moments. Like a growing crop field the hairs sprouted evenly and densely across his shoulders, blending into his arm hair and chest hair as it spread towards his neck. His muscles similarly lost definition in exchange for their fur coat, not that any definition would be visible under the thick rug he’d grown. The forest continued its advance, circling his neck entirely before moving down onto his back, the last untouched expanse. Small dark hairs popped up around his shoulder blades, slowly growing into small crescents of thick fuzz. Thick hairs trailed down his spine from the rug growing in across his shoulders, growing down until reaching his ass, where just above sprouted a thick patch of black hair. The rest of his bare skin began to vanish as wiry hairs popped out all over, sprouting quickly and grouping together into tufts, patches, and eventually blending seamlessly into the full back rug.

His ass felt sore as the hair encroached from above. The thick muscular cheeks softened before growing in size. His ass would always be visible now, no matter what pants he wore. Moments later the familiar prickling of hair returned. His plump cheeks grew an even coat of light fuzz, before it slowly darkened and matured into the same thick, wiry hairs that coated the rest of him. Layers of dark hair kept popping up under older ones, until his ass was barely visible under the fur. His crack itched strongly as even thicker hairs burst out, more kinky and wiry than any others. The rug across his back continued spreading around his sides, linking up with his chest and stomach hair as his full body coating only grew thicker and thicker.

As his whole body was covered in thick hair, the currents of the water now pushed and pulled Tyler’s fur coat in waves, the feeling of which was mind blowing to him. The bubble jets in the pool were blowing directly towards his thick bush, now free to sway in the water. Every time he moved the sensation was immaculate, and Tyler couldn’t help but get hard again. He reached both hands down since his cock was long enough to need both, and began to stroke slowly, up and down his shaft. His body shivered. It felt incredible. The warm water coating his dick and his body, the thick girthy shaft needing both hands, the hand under his hands and flowing in the water, it all created an unreal sensational overload. He suddenly remembered, nearly breaking the daze he’d been in the entire time, that he’d missed a spot.

With a quick breath, he dunked his entire head underwater, holding it under as long as he could. About a minute later he broke the surface with a gasp. Even with just a minute of time, the pool water had begun to take effect. A dark shadow coated the lower half of Tyler’s face, stretching down over his neck. His sharp jaw began to round out, cheeks growing heavier. His hair darkened from brown to an inky black, with the hairline receding just an inch or so on the sides. He returned his hands to his cock as a beard began to fill in on his face. He grasped his rock hard member, feeling every inch of his face come alive as follicles worked in overdrive to push out a thick, black hair. His beard crept out slowly, then more quickly as he began stroking it faster. His mustache popped out, hairs erupting from his upper lip as he felt himself getting closer. The hair on his cheeks thickened up, creating a solid strap from side to side that blended into his stache. The stubble crept downwards too, connecting into his thick chest hair, as Tyler’s jacking pace reached a climax. His breathing grew quick, hairs all over standing on end as he felt his massive balls churning. 

With one last pump, his hips began to buck as he shot load after load into the pool water. A roaring moan echoed through the room as he emptied both gargantuan balls straight into the spa. He felt his body bloat, softening even more, belly growing more than anything as his fur coat grew just a little bit denser all over. His cock was still emptying into the water, cum pooling around him as his breathing slowed into a pant. The haze from the intense steam began to lift, but Tyler was no longer the man he was upon walking into the spa that morning. He was bigger, heavier, and far, far hairier. He rubbed his hands through his new fur, enthralled with it still. 

Suddenly, the man from the entry desk walked into the room.

“It sounds like you’re all finished in here, could I interest you in our sauna next?” he asked Tyler with another wink.

Tyler quipped back, a grin plastered across his face, “Only if you join me.”

-"Where is she?" Said Lucas rather worried as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and searched for his girlfriend's contact, he had been waiting for her for almost half an hour in a small Mexican restaurant close to where her house was.

As Lucas started calling her a rather sexy-looking Latina sat down in the seat in front of him, for a moment Luke didn't say anything as he waited for the woman to at least say something.

-"Can I help you?" Asked Luke a little nervous as it was weird that a woman he didn't know decided to sit down with him.

-"So...you are Luke..." Said the woman with a very demeaning tone to her voice.

-"Umm... Yes, do I know you?" Asked Luke while his mind went into overdrive as he tried to remember if he had seen or met the woman before.

-"I’m Liliana, Rosa's sister" The woman said.

Almost immediately after hearing this, Luke remembered the time his girlfriend Rosa showed him photos of her family, in one of the images Rosa was hugging her sister Liliana.

-"Oh my God..." Luke said in a low voice as he extended his hand -"It’s so nice to finally meet you!"

Liliana seemed hesitant at first but after a few seconds, she grabbed Luke's hand and shook it while also looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression on her face.

-"It’s nice to meet you to Luke" Said Liliana in a very noticeable sarcastic tone.

-"So... did Rosa plan this?" Asked Luke.

-"Yes, she kind of did" Said Liliana.

-"Umm... Is she coming...?" Asked Luke as Liliana slightly smiled.

-"Nop, it's just you and me" Said Liliana.

-"Well that's okay..." Luke said -"This is a great opportunity to learn more about you!".

-"Yes it is, but before we do that would you like to eat anything?" Liliana asked as he grabbed the menu from the table while Liliana called for a waiter.

Almost immediately a very young-looking woman came to their table with a small book in her hands.

-"Hola, bienvenidos a "El Mexica", ¿Qué les gustaría ordenar? (Hello, welcome to "El Mexica", what would you like to order?" Asked the woman in Spanish.

-“Si, me gustaría un taco al pastor” (Yes. I would like a taco al pastor) Said Luke with his rather noticeable accented Spanish.

The waiter quickly wrote Luke’s order and then looked at Liliana.

-“Lo mismo pero échale salsa especial a ambos y traenos unas dos cocacolas tambien” (The same but add special sauce to both and also bring us two Coca-Colas) Said Liliana, once the waiter was done writing the order she smiled weirdly at Liliana and walked away towards the kitchen in a hurry.

-“Your Spanish is good for a gringo” Said Liliana.

-“Thanks” Said Luke slightly offended –“I studied it in college”.

-“What college did you go to?” Asked Liliana rather intrigued.

-“I studied law at Yale, after graduating and getting my master's I moved here to L.A once I got a job offer with Morgan & Jacobs”.

Suddenly Liliana started laughing once Luke had finished responding to her question.

-“What’s so funny?” Asked Luke slightly irritated as he knew Liliana wasn’t taking him seriously.

-“It’s just that Rosa is committing the same mistakes all over again” Said Liliana as her expression turned serious.

-“What mistakes? Asked Luke –“If you’re referring to Chris let me tell you that I’m nothing like him”.

-“Oh sure, the real fact is that all of you gringos are the same, completely spoiled, never experienced hardship, and always take advantage of other people, of other people that look Rosa or me” Liliana angrily responded.

-“Just because I’m a lawyer and Rosa is just a secretary to my boss it doesn’t mean I can’t be in love with her, she is very sweet, kind, and loving” Responded Luke sincerely.

-“I don’t buy that you’re in love with her, for all I know you're just doing a silly dare with some of your colleagues to see who can take her to bed faster” Liliana said.

-“You know what, I’m done” Said Luke as he got up from his chair –“When I started working at the firm one year ago I immediately noticed how shitty my colleagues treated Rosa, Because of that I started hanging out with her after work, she deserved dignity and appreciation for all the things she did and I was ready to give her that, sorry if my feelings of compassion for her turned into love!”.

Liliana stayed there quiet as Luke continued through his rant.

-“Do you think this is easy for me? My colleges hate me because of it, I’m pretty much ready to quit and find another place to work at but I’m not leaving Rosa alone in that hellhole, sorry if I’m not like you or your mechanic Dad who emigrated from Mexico but I’m certainly not like those ass holes you believe I am, granted I haven't felt a lot of hardships in my life but that doesn't mean it has been easy for me and that's why I appreciate Rosa a lot, she showed me that even the most impossible problems can be solved”.

Once Luke was done he started moving towards the exit, but before he could leave he was stopped by Liliana who ran in front of him and blocked his path.

-“Could you please move…” Said Luke –“I need to get back to the office, maybe once I'm there I can plan with the guys on how to ruin Rosa's life”.

-“Luke I’m sorry if I said a few bad things, it’s just that I don’t want my sister to get hurt again, it wasn't easy for her when that idiot did what he did and I'm just trying to be a good older sister and steer her into the right path ” Liliana said with an embarrassed tone.

-“I don’t want that either, I know that I’m not the best man in the world but I at least try to make Rosa happy” Said Luke –“I love her a lot and I promise you that I will never do anything to harm her”.

-“Thanks for that, would you like to start over?” Liliana asked as she gave her hand which Luke reached after thinking for a while about the previous discussion.

-“Yes I would, your Rosa’s sister after all” Luke said as he started walking back to the table with Liliana right next to him.

Once they reached the table the same waiter that had attended them came back from the kitchen with two plates and two cokes in hand.

As Luke and Liliana sat down on the chairs the waiter placed in front of each one of them a plate containing a single taco al pastor with a weird purple sauce dribbled on top of it and the glass of coke filled to the brim with small ice cubes.

Once she was done she then smiled at Liliana again and quickly walked away leaving both Liliana and Luke alone so that they could enjoy their meal.

Luke was the first to make a move as he carefully grabbed his taco and happily took his first bite, meanwhile Liliana grabbed her own and looked at Luke with concern.

-"Is something wrong?" Asked Luke as he took a second bite of the taco and enjoyed the slightly spicy but sweet taste the purple sauce gave to it.

-"No, just ignore me" Said Liliana as she too started to eat her taco while not taking away her eyes from Luke -"How's the taco?"

-"It's really good!" Said Luke while eating and taking a sip of his coke -"The sauce makes it better though, what is it?"

-"I don't know, I think it's made of a few spices and peppers" Said Liliana.

-"Well whatever it's made of it's great" Said Luke as he cleaned a little bit of the sauce off his lips with a small napkin while not noticing small bits of the sauce falling and staining his expensive suit.

After a few more bites Luke was practically done eating his taco and as he ate the last piece of it he felt a weird sensation forming in his stomach.

-"Ohhh" Luke said out loud as he grabbed his stomach.

-"Are you okay?" Asked Liliana with concern and fear plastered in her face.

-"Yes I think the sauce was a little too much for my stomach" Luke said as his stomach started twisting which made him almost puke. -"My stomach is on fire!" Luke thought as he then started to feel a burning sensation rising through his body towards his neck and then towards his face.

-"Fuck" Luke said as he grabbed the glass of coke and drank whatever was left on it, this seemed to mitigate the weird symptoms he was feeling yet after a few seconds he started feeling even worse.

-"Luke you don't look good, do you want me to call for an ambulance?" Asked Liliana as Luke started coughing and shedding tears from his eyes -"Are you allergic to something?"

-"No, Im good...just excuse me for a bit" Said Luke as he got up from his seat and ran to what looked like the entrance of a bathroom.

Once Luke disappeared through the door Liliana felt immense guilt as whatever was going to happen to him was her fault, in the small amount of time she had gotten to meet and better know who Luke was she now understood that he was a nice guy and that she had jumped into conclusion to quickly.

As she continued dwelling about what she had done her phone suddenly started ringing, she retrieved it from one of the small pockets of her jeans and winced when she saw "Papi 💗" written on the screen.

-"Hola..." (Hello) Liliana said rather nervously as her hand trembled softly.

-"¿Está hecho?" (Is it done?) Asked Liliana's father rather bluntly.

-"Si Papi está hecho" (Yes Dad it's done) Liliana said.

-"Excelente, al fin mi hija va a poder tener un verdadero novio, uno que es más como nosotros" (Excellent, my daughter will finally have a real boyfriend, one that is more like us).

-"Papa, creo que cometimos un error, Luke se ve que es una buena persona y se nota a leguas su amor por Rosa" (Dad I think we made a mistake, Luke is a nice guy and his love for Rosa is very noticeable).

Liliana's Dad sighted from the other side -"Mira hija ya no se puede volver atrás, sea quien fuera Luke el ya no va a ser el mismo que antes, se convertirá en el hombre apropiado para tu hermana y también en un nuevo vital integrante de nuestra familia" (Look honey we can go back, whoever was Luke he won't be the same as before, he will transform into a more appropriate man for your sister and also a new vital member of our family)

-"Okay Papi..." (Okay Dad).

-"Bueno Mija, nos vemos (Okay honey, I'll see you later).

Once Liliana's Dad had hung up she put her phone back in her pocket and looked at the Door where Luke had entered with deep intrigue and worry.

----------------------------------------------------------

-"Ummmm" Luke grunted as the flow of water from the sink touched his hot mouth and started to relieve the effects of whatever peppers the sauce he had eaten was made off.

-"Thank God is over" Luke thought as he continued to push more water into his mouth in a chaotic manner which made him accidentally soak the coat and tie he was wearing.

-"Shit" Luke thought but then he remembered that he could store his wet clothes in his work bag at the office and just use his white shirt while he got home.

-"It's better than nothing" Luke told himself as he turned off the sink and removed his tie from around his neck, after which he placed it next to the sink and proceed to remove his coat which he also placed next to the sink.

-"Wait... This isn't normal" Luke thought as he looked at himself in the mirror, his long sleeved cotton shirt that he remembered putting on earlier that morning had somehow transformed into a larger sized cheap white sleeveless shirt that exposed completely his stick-like arms.

Luke then looked down and was surprised to see that his dress pants had also been transformed as they were now a pair of blue denim jeans, Luke's shoes were also transformed from a pair of well-polished shoes to a larger pair of old sporty tennis shoes, to add to the mystery the articles of clothing Luke was previously wearing had magically disappeared from the sink.

-"How did this....fuck!" Luke suddenly grunted at the top of his lungs as he felt like his bones and muscles were twisting, breaking, and growing in order to better adapt to his new changing body, this was made evident by the sudden growth of Luke's height which went from a measly five feet eight to a towering six feet two in a matter of seconds.

After which Luke felt like both of his feet were being pulled, what he didn't know was that his feet size was rapidly increasing to match the size of the shoes he was now wearing, this was followed by a sudden loss of balance which made Luke fall to the floor form where he could perfectly see the sudden growth of bulges that protruded around his jeans, these bulges were none other than his new set of large quads and calves.

As Luke then tried to get up from the floor and escape the bathroom he fell to the floor again as his glutes suddenly increased in size and his mind was clouded in momentary pleasure as he felt his dick rise in his underwear.

-"oh fuuuuk!" Screamed Luke as his erection became worse, this was due to the growth of his dick to an impressive ten inches and the growth of his balls which thanks to the added testosterone proceeded to accelerate the changes through Luke's body.

This was made evident by the growth of six tight bulges from Luke's stomach which wound up forming a defined six-pack, meanwhile, in Luke's chest, his pecs enlarged like balloons and his nipples grew in size with them.

After much struggle, while the changes were still manifesting themselves all over Luke's body, he was finally able to get up from the floor.

Instead of cowering away in fear Luke looked at his changing body through the mirror, his face had a shocked expression as he saw new muscles forming in his arms which gave him a pair of large biceps and powerful lower arms, the sensation he was feeling while looking at his transforming body was unexplainable, it felt alien but at the same time very good.

Suddenly as the transformation seemed to stop Luke's eyes caught a few weird colored patches on his skin, these patches were multicolored as some were caramel in tone while others were completely black.

As Luke touched one of the patches it was as if the rest of them exploded at the same time which produced a burning sensation in every inch of Luke's skin as the colors which were previously contained coated his pasty white skin and eliminated it.

First, it was Luke's feet and legs which now had a light caramel coloration like that of Rosa's or Liliana's skin, from there Luke's now larger member and his balls became dark brown just as the caramel coloration continued its climb toward Luke's abdomen and chest.

By the time this new skin tone reached around Luke's neck a huge amount of black hairs had grown all over his body, his legs and private area were now completely covered, his abdomen developed a treasure trail that led towards his new Latino cock, his pecs also developed some hairs around his sternum and around his new and larger brownish nipples, finally as Luke's face started changing his pit hairs grew larger and from the root up turned completely black.

-"My God" Luke said as he tested his new deep voice while his lips puffed up in size, then his face structure became much more angular and pointy as a mix of different genetic backgrounds combined to give him his new Latino face, his nose became straight, his ears grew slightly larger and his eyes shrunk a little while his irises changed in color to brown.

Then as Luke's face slowly stopped changing the caramel coloration steamrolled through his face and up to his scalp where his dirty blonde hair had shrunken, changed to black, and styled itself into a fade-type haircut that left most of his scalp visible, this was followed by a growth in facial hair around Luke's chin and lips with ended up forming a detailed goatee.

Finally the darker patches of Luke's skin accumulated around his chest area and left bicep after which they formed a series of elaborate tattoos that exalted even more Luke's new origins and life, this was complemented by the appearance of diamond studs in Luke's ears and that of a large gold made cross necklace around his neck.

With the transformation now over Luke moved closer to the mirror in order to better look at his new face, once his nose was maybe an inch away from the mirror he made a few different faces and even touched his new features with his fingers.

-"¿Como demonios pasó esto?" (How the hell did this happen?) Luke said out loud which shocked him as instead of speaking in his default English he was now speaking Spanish, and a perfect one at that with no Gringo accent but a deep Mexican accent.

-"Is that my voice?" Luke asked this time in English which made him aware that he had a deep and very noticeable accented English, it was as if he had learned it later on in his life.

With curiosity Luke then proceeded to grab his wallet from his pocket, the first thing he noticed was that instead of a luxury leather made wallet his hand was clutching a rather old fabric made wallet, inside he found a few dollars in cash, two or three credit cards and a drivers license which peaked Luke's attention.

-"Lucas Rodríguez" Luke said out loud as he looked at the name on the driver's license and then at the picture of his new self -"At least that didn't change" Luke thought as he noticed that his date of birth was the same of that of his old self yet that didn't matter as he probably now had a very different life than before.

With this thought in mind, Luke suddenly felt dizzy as a vault of information opened and flooded his brain with new info and memories of that of Lucas Rodriguez.

Instead of being born and raised in an upper-class neighborhood in New Haven in this new life he was born in a poor neighborhood in Los Angeles and raised by his parents who were immigrants from Mexico's seeking a better life in America.

Instead of being a gold student in school, Lucas was much more of a drifter and from time to time he would even escape classes in order to help his dad who worked in a mechanic's shop, or to play soccer and exercise in the neighborhood park and outdoor gym.

Despite this Lucas was able to graduate with good enough grades to enter into College where he studied mechanical engineering, after graduating instead of pursuing a more highly technical job in a large multinational company like many of his peers he started working at a new mechanics shop that had opened close to his house.

There he meet Rosa, one of the daughter's of Julio, the owner of the shop, after a few months Rosa and Lucas had started a hidden romance which produced in the two of them wishes to marry and form a close knitted hard working family like those they had originated from.

Flash forward to today where Lucas was invited during his lunch break to eat with Liliana, Rosa's sister, and talk about his relationship with her.

This new influx of memories almost completely eliminated who Lucas was before, yet he could still recall being someone else, in other words, his mind now contained the life and memories of two different individuals instead of one.

As Lucas reflected on his transformation and new memories he deiced to just let go and accept who he know was, he didn't care that Liliana and the magic sauce had transformed him, he didn't care that he would never see his old parents or friends, he had new ones that looked, acted, and worked hard just like him.

Before leaving to face his destiny Lucas flexed his new bronze biceps and smiled cockily at himself as he felt a surge of pride for his Latino origins and his new manliness, he looked at his tattoos that spelled out his new Catholic faith and love for his family and the "vecindario" he lived in.

Once Lucas was done he walked out of the bathroom with his wallet at hand and as he closed the door behind him he heard a woman calling him.

-"Lucas estás bien?" (Lucas are you alright) Liliana asked as he discreetly observed Luke's changes.

-"Si estoy bien, creo que la salsa me pegó un poco duro en el estómago pero ya estoy bien" (Yes I'm fine, I think that the sauce hit my stomach a little hard but I'm okay now" Lucas said unfazed as he picked a few dollars from his wallet -"Perdón pero ya tengo que irme, mi turno empieza pronto y no quiero llegar tarde, tu sabes cómo es tu papá" (Sorry but I have to go, mi shift starts soon and I don't want to get there late, you know how your father is after all).

-"A okay Lucas, fue un gusto conocerte más" (Okay Lucas, it was a pleasure to meet you more). Liliana said as Lucas placed the dollar bills in front of her on the table.

-"Muchas gracias, para mí también fue un gusto" (Thank you a lot, for me it was also a pleasure). Lucas said as he walked from Lillian's table to the exit -"Te veo después, llámame para hacer otra salida de estas" (I'll see you later, call me to do another of these outings) Lucas said as he waved and finally walked out on the street, the California sun shimmered on his muscled new body.

Meanwhile, in the store, the waiter that had attended Liliana and Lucas walked back to the table with the receipt in hand.

-"El recordara algo?" (Does he remember anything) Liliana asked the waiter as she counted the money.

-"No la salsa es muy efectiva, es posible que recuerde algunas cosas pero serán más como sueños a los que no les dará importancia" (No the sauce is very effective, it's possible that he might remember a few things but they will feel like dream's that he won't give much importance to).

-"Esta bien" (okay) Liliana said still unsure of her decision.

-"Tranquila, hiciste lo correcto" (Relax, you did the correct thing) the waiter said as she walked away.

-"Si eso creo (Yes, I think) Liliana said as she got up from the table and left the store, her worries and doubts over what she had done still lingering in her mind.

----------------------------------------------------------

6 months later...

-"¡Gooooool!" The people in the living room of Julio's house shouted as México scored a goal against Brazil, Lucas with a Corona in hand jumped up from his seat and hugged Julio who with a smile hugged Lucas back.

-"¡Gol mi amor! (Gol my love!) Rosa shouted as she pushed herself into Julio's and Lucas's hug which made Lucas accidentally spill some of his beer on his Mexico team shirt.

-"La camisa mi amor..." (The shirt my love...) Lucas said as he removed himself from the hug.

-"¡Ay perdón, es que me emocioné mucho¡ (Sorry, it's just that I got very excited) Rosa said in a sorry tone as she looked at the shirt and back up at Lucas.

-"No te preocupes voy echarle un poco de agua para que no se le pegué el olor a cerveza" (Don't worry, I'll go and pour some water on it so that the smell of beer doesn't get stuck to it" Lucas said as he rubbed his shirt with his free hand.

-"Listo y de nuevo perdón" (Okay, and again sorry) Rosa Said as Lucas walked away.

-"Tranquila mi amor" (Relax my love) Lucas said as he walked away from the living room and entered the lonely kitchen where he removed his shirt and placed it on the sink, this left Lucas's muscled upper body completely exposed.

Lucas then turned on the sink and placed the part of his shirt that had the spill directly under the flow of water coming down from the sink.

-"Salió?" (Did it go away) A voice asked from behind which made Lucas turn around.

-"No Don Julio" (No Mr. Julio) Said Lucas surprised as he turned off the sink and smelled his shirt -"Pero al menos si se le quitó el olor a cerveza" (But at least the smell of beer did go away).

Julio didn't say anything and instead walked towards Lucas -"Hijo tenemos que hablar" (Son we have to talk) Julio Said with a serious tone to his voice.

-"Si Don Julio, ¿que pasa? (Yes Mr. Julio, what's up?) Lucas asked as he took a sip from his Corona while Julio situated himself next to him.

-"Te he notado actuando un poco raro estos últimos días, ¿paso algo de lo que deba saber?" (I've noticed that you've been acting weird these past few days, has something happened that I should know about?) Julio asked.

-"No Don Julio todo está bien... se lo prometo" (No Mr. Julio everything is going alright... I promise you) Lucas said in a rather nervous tone.

-"¿Estas seguro?" (Are you sure?) Julio asked while crossing his arms -"Por que Rosa me dice que también estás actuando raro alrededor de ella, ¿Tu comportamiento tiene algo que ver con mi hija? (Because Rosa is telling me that you are acting weird around her, Does your behavior have something to do with my daughter?) Julio asked while arching one of his eyebrows.

Lucas who was left speechless by Julio's questions finally decided to spill the beans on his little secret.

-"Don Julio espero que usted me de su bendición ya tengo planeado pedirle matrimonio a su hija, ya tengo el anillo y todo pero la verdad no he encontrado el momento adecuado para pedírselo" (Mr. Julio I hope you give me your blessing because I'm planning to ask your daughter to marry me, I already have the ring but haven't found the appropriate moment to ask her) Lucas said with emotion to his voice -"La quiero mucho y sé que vamos a ser felices siempre si estamos juntos los dos" (I love her a lot and I know that we will always be happy if the both of us are together) Lucas finished as he looked at Julio who had an unrecognizable expression in his face.

-"Estás seguro que la amas?" (Are you sure you love her?) Julio finally asked.

-"Rosa es una bendición de Dios Don Julio, me encantaría poder casarme con ella y pasar el resto de mis días al lado de ella" (Rosa is a blessing from God Mr. Julio, I would love to marry her and spend the rest of my days next to her) Lucas responded a response that made Julio smile.

-"Entonces está decidido, tienes mi bendición para casarte con mi hija" (It's decided then, you have my blessings to marry my daughter) Julio said while Lucas immediately grabbed him and hugged him.

-"¡Gracias Don Julio, Gracias!" (Thank You, Mr. Julio, Thank you!) Lucas said with complete joy and relief.

-"¿Que está pasando aquí?" (What's happening here?) Rosa asked as she entered the kitchen and saw that her boyfriend was hugging her Dad.

Almost immediately Julio and Lucas stopped hugging and turned to look at Rosa, Julio decided to not say anything as he walked out of the kitchen after saying -"Nada Hija solo estaba felicitando a Lucas por el trabajo de hoy" (Nothing honey I was just congratulating Lucas for today's work) in a tone that convinced Rosa.

-"Si exacto... Eso fue lo que pasó" (Yes exactly... That was what happened) Lucas said still nervous as Julio left the kitchen and Rosa approached him at a rapid pace.

-"¿Ya solucionaste lo de la camisa?" (Did you solve the shirt problem) Rosa asked seductively as she looked at Lucas's face and then down at his pecs and washboard abs.

-"Si se puede decir..." (Yes you can say that...) Lucas said as Rosa was now standing less than an inch away from him.

Suddenly without warning, Rosa jumped towards Lucas who caught her and placed her legs around his waist which meant that the majority of her large and voluptuous ass was just on top of his dick.

-"¿Porque no vamos a casa y nos divertimos un poco?" (Why don't we go home and have a little fun?) Said Rosa as she kissed Lucas passionately which made his dick rise in attention.

Lucas immediately started kissing back and grinding his dick around Rosa's ass which made her moan.

-"¡Gooooool!" The sudden scream from the living room returned both Rosa and Lucas back to reality as they stopped doing their small "romantic moment".

-"Cuando se acabe el partido nos quedamos un ratito y después nos vamos" (When the match finishes we'll stay for a while and then we go home) Lucas said as he placed Rosa back on the floor and placed a kiss on her lips while also grabbing her ass

-"Lo que tú digas mi príncipe Maya" (Whatever you say my Mayan prince) Rosa said seductively as she passed her fingers through Lucas's pecs and abs.

So you want to be a muscle bear that drinks and smokes? That is one of the Smoke Transformer’s specialties. The change will be sudden and permanent, so I hope it is what you really want.

Either way though, you are now mine to grow.

***

You spend your evenings at the gym with no luck in growing. You have always wanted to become a muscle bear, but haven’t seen the results you desire. Let’s be honest though - when you spend the evenings at the gym, you barely lift anything and never truly push yourself. You also barely eat, not consuming enough calories for your desired growth.

You are skinny and weak and nothing like you long to be.

One evening, the gym was empty. After lifting a few weights, you became thirsty and realized you had forgotten your water bottle.

You grabbed a dollar out of the pocket of your gym shorts and headed to the vending machine. There was a new drink in there; one you have never heard of: “ST’s Muscle Brew”.

Out of curiosity, you put in your dollar into the machine and picked it. A can rolled out and you grabbed it. Immediately, you looked at the label:

“The Smoke Transformer made this brew for you! Guaranteed muscle growth, but may include side effects. Only drink one a day.”

It didn’t list the side effects, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be big!

You cracked open the can and took a big chug. It tasted exactly like beer, but you kept drinking.

After finishing the can, you crushed it and threw it on the ground. You had an urge to lift some more.

As you were lifting, you noticed you were able to lift more. However, you also noticed your face was getting itchy. A short beard sprouted from your face.

You got thirsty again and, despite the one a day warning on the can, you purchased yourself another one.

The rich beer tasting drink was just what you needed.

You continued your workout. You noticed little hairs around you. What you didn’t notice was that they were from you. One of the side effects was hair loss. However, your growing beard made up for.

You decided one more “ST’s Muscle Brew” sounded good. You were starting to feel stronger, even if you didn’t look it…yet.

As you chugged, you started feeling an intense warmness around you. You felt pain all over. You hunched over and fell to the ground. You moaned for help, but no one was around. You felt your body ever expanding. Your skin felt like it was being stretched. You felt heavier as you laid on the gym floor.

Smoke started rolling into the gym and the lights turned off. You thought you were hallucinating, until you smelt the rich cigar smoke. It first was unpleasant, but you quickly grew to enjoy it. Even long for it. You breathed in the smoke.

You heard a deep voice in your head, “It said only to drink one. Now you are a witless muscle bear. Only wanting to work out, drink beer and smoke cigars. The effects weren’t supposed to be this intense. But now you have no choice.”

The smoke cleared out and the lights turned back on. You gained your strength back and stood back up. You saw yourself in the mirror. You were huge and muscular, just what you always wanted.

As you enjoyed looking at your large and visible muscles, you started feeling warm again. Your skin became itchy, just like your face did earlier.

Thick, dark hair was growing everywhere. The muscles you love looking at are now hidden by the fur.

You still looked big, but now extremely hairy - almost cartoonish with the amount of hair. You looked like a what a proper muscle bear should look like.

You wanted to keep working out, but you got a new urge. It was a craving from your new addiction to beer and cigars.

You headed outside the gym, still shirtless, and headed to the minimart across the street. There was a sign on the door: “No shirt, no service.” You didn’t care though. You knew no one would say something; no one would want to confront a beast like you.

The cashier worker stared as you grabbed a six pack from the cooler and a few cigars from their humidor. You didn’t care the quality of the cigars; you just need their smoke in your lungs.

You walked back to the parking lot of the gym, cracked open a beer and lit up a cigar. The smoke filled your lungs as you held it deep. This was your life now. You were going to go back and work out more after you finished a few beers and the cigar. You thought that you might need to turn some of the rooms in your house into mini gyms so that you could smoke and drink as you lifted.

For now, you will take plenty of beer and smoke breaks between sessions in the parking lot. Visitors of the gym will know you as the gym’s cigar smokin’ bear. You will love showing off what you have become.

Eric stood in his clean white sneakers and blue shirt in a yard of full of weeds in the middle of nowhere.

“You sure this is it?” he asked his friend, Greg.

“Of course it is, there is no other place around,” Greg smartly replied. Greg was always dragging Eric to god knows where. Greg was a schemer and was always looking for ways to make “easy money” without working a real job.

Greg and Eric, both 20, had been friends for a long time but they were very different. Eric was a clean cut guy, never partied or did drugs. Greg, on the other hand, was always getting into trouble.

“How much did you say this guy was paying us?” Eric asked, annoyed.

“300 bucks, cash,” Greg grinned. Eric debated whether the amount of yard work was worth it. “Come on, let’s knock on the door,” Greg added.

The house was a little ran down, but it had potential. Greg knocked and a large, beefy man opened the door. He had a shaved head, full greying beard and was equal parts fat with muscle. He had a large cigar protruding from his mouth. When he had opened the door, a haze of smoke emerged with him.

“You must be Greg,” he said in a deep voice.

“Yup, that’s me,” Greg confirmed, “This here is my friend, Eric. He’s helping too.”

The man stared at Eric then reached out his hand and said, “Butch.”

“Umm,” Eric hesitantly reached for his hand and shook it, “Nice to meet you.”

Butch looked back at Greg, “I’m still only paying you $500. Extra help don’t mean more pay.”

Eric shot a piercing glance at his friend and Greg sheepishly agreed, “Yes, of course.”

“Well, you better get to it,” Butch suggested.

Greg and Eric starting pulling weeds in that early morning. There was an awkward silence between them.

It was about two hours in when Butch emerged from his house and offered the guys some water bottles. He still had a large cigar in his mouth.

“Thanks, Mr. - ummm…Butch,” Eric said as he took a water. Greg just grabbed the water without saying anything.

“I need to head to town for a couple of hours. You boys alright?” Butch asked as he got into his parked truck.

“Should be,” Eric responded.

“House is unlocked if you need to use the bathroom. All I ask is you don’t touch anything. Specifically my gars,” Butch grinned as he held up his lit cigar that was resting between his fingers.

“Of course, we won’t,” Eric assured.

“Good boy,” Butch said as he turned the engine on before driving off down the dirt road.

A few minutes passed and Eric finally spoke up, “You know Greg, I can’t believe you were going to short me.”

“What do you mean?” Eric defensively asked back.

“You know what I mean. He was going to pay you 500 bucks. You told me three,” Greg snapped.

“Chillax, I got it mixed up. I’ll split it evenly with ya still,” Greg assured him. Truth was, Greg was originally going to short him and was now backtracking.

“Whatever,” Eric said as he continued to work. He knew his friend and didn’t believe him.

Greg tossed his rake down on the ground. “I need to take a piss,” he shortly said as he stomped off.

Inside, the house was nicer than the outside. When he first answered the Facebook marketplace ad for yard work help, Butch mentioned that he recently bought the house was doing remodeling work. Greg had no idea though. This place was both masculine and fancy, and must have cost a bunch to get done.

After finding the bathroom, he looked around and saw the living room. It had wooden walls, oak furniture and leather seating. There was a deer head mounted above the fire place mantle. He saw a large cedar box resting there.

Being the rebel he was, he opened the box and saw several large cigars sitting inside. An idea popped in his head. He grabbed two cigars and a lighter that was sitting next to the humidor.

He had seen his uncle smoke cigars before and knew you had to cut them. He picked up a cigar cutter that was sitting on the mantle and cut each cigar poorly. He tossed the cut pieces into the fire place and quickly hurried outside.

“Look, I feel bad about almost cheating you, so I got you a present,” Greg called out as he walked back into the yard. He held up the two cigars.

“Are you fucking serious? You heard Butch,” Eric said, annoyed.

“The guy’s weird and off. He won’t notice two missing,” Greg said as he placed the cigar in his mouth. He flicked the lighter, brought it to the end and puffed on the cigar. Smoke poured from his mouth before inhaling, causing him to cough. Greg had dabbled with smoking cigarettes and other substances in the past, so he had an idea to what he was doing. He then held out the unlit cigar and lighter to Eric, “Don’t be a baby. Smoke it. Tastes expensive.”

“Like you would even know,” Eric said as he took the cigar from his friend. Eric never smoked anything before. He just stared at it.

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss like always. Smoke it and I’ll give you 250 instead 150,” Greg smirked.

“Fine,” Eric conceded, “I’ll smoke it.” Eric placed the cigar in his mouth. It tasted rich, which is not what he expected. He brought the flame to the cigar, over burning it and puffed. The smoke tasted of caramel and wood; it was actually pleasant.

“Now be a man and inhale it!” Greg demanded, not knowing you don’t normally inhale cigars.

Eric did and it caused him to cough aggressively. Greg just laughed. Eric thought he wasn’t going to do that again.

The two friends were more talkative from that point on as their cigars were an icebreaker for them. Eric was surprised at how much he was enjoying his cigar and the taste it had. He even thought about buying some on his own. Greg was also enjoying his cigar, but differently from Eric. He enjoyed the harsh smoke in his lungs and the quick buzz it gave.

A half hour went by as the two of them worked and smoked.

“Dude, I don’t feel so good,” Greg spoke up.

“You’re inhaling too much,” Eric informed him as he continued to pull weeds.

“No, it’s not that. It’s my stomach. It feels funny. And my face is itchy,” Greg said as he put his rake down.

Eric looked at him and was shocked at what he saw. Greg had a full beard. “Greg, your face! You have a beard!” Eric exclaimed as a thick cloud of smoke blew from his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Greg asked confused. his voice even sounded a little deeper. Greg touched his face and felt fuzzy hair. He was startled. He had never been able to grow facial hair.

Greg ran to the house and Eric followed. Once inside, Greg hurried to the bathroom while Eric stayed in the living room, still smoking his cigar. He didn’t want to put it down.

Greg saw his reflection of the bathroom mirror and sure enough, a beard was quickly growing. He looked different and barely recognized himself with the beard and cigar in his jaw. Much like Eric, he didn’t want to stop.

He then noticed his hair falling out, all over the sink under him. It fell until all that was left was short hairs. It looked like he had just given himself a buzzcut.

His stomach still felt off. He looked down and saw that it appeared bloated. He left the bathroom to find Eric still smoking his cigar, but he was also now sporting a short stubble beard.

The beard was not the only thing different. It looked as if Eric had been a dedicated gym goer and weightlifter.

“Dude, you’re ripped!” Greg said even in a deeper voice.

“I am?” Eric asked as he flexed his bicep and admired it. His voice was also getting lower. “I look good!

Greg even had to admit to himself that Eric was looking good.

The two of them stood in the living room, confused with these sudden changes. They continued smoking their cigars as it was the only constant they had right now. It seemed to calm their nerves.

The two friends didn’t know what to do. All they did was keep smoking their cigars.

“What’s happening to us?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know. Why are you getting jacked while I’m getting fat?” Greg asked back.

Eric looked at Greg. His belly was getting rounder and his face was filling out. Eric thought his friend looked good as a bigger guy.

“I don’t know, but my cigar is almost done and I want another,” Eric said as he snubbed his cigar out on an ashtray that sat on the coffee table. Greg did the same and the two friends grabbed another from the humidor.

They both lit them up as if they were regular cigar smokers now.

Both Greg and Eric’s beards were getting fuller and longer. Eric’s hair was also starting to fall out, but only on sides, leaving him with a short Mohawk.

Greg let out a belch. His belly had became massive, compared to what it once was. Eric couldn’t stop flexing his new muscles. His arms were huge.

Greg watched his friend as he rubbed his belly. He liked his belly; it made him feel manly. He also liked his friend’s new muscles.

“Dude, take off your shirt! Let’s see how ripped you are!” Greg enthusiastically suggested.

“Only if you do too!” Eric exclaimed.

“Deal!” Greg agreed.

The two men took off their tight shirts. Greg had a fuzzy belly and Eric had a hairy chest.

“Dude, you look hot…erm…I mean great!” Greg said to Eric.

“Thanks man, you look hot…umm…great as well!” Eric complimented back.

The two men looked at each other, admiring, as they puffed away fiercely on their cigars.

Eric had never been attracted to guys, but Greg was looking very sexy. He felt his dick twitching as he imagined riding him.

Greg never saw his friend in this light, but he wanted to touch Eric all over and please him.

As the men got harder, they smoked their cigars harder. Then suddenly and fiercely, the two men held their cigars in their hands, approached each other and started passionately making out. Eric grabbed Greg’s ass as he started grinding his crotch against his friends. Greg moaned in pleasure.

It all came to a stop when they heard Butch say, “Looks like we got a couple of rule breakers.”

The two men stepped away from each other, speechless and shocked. Butch was watching them as he hauled hard on his cigar.

“Butch, what is happening to us?” Eric asked in a deep voice.

“You smoked my cigars and became cigar cubs. I told you not to,” Butch said as he moved in closer.

“Cigar cub?” Eric asked, confused but still horny, “What’s that?”

“Take a look at yourselves and each other. That’s a cigar cub, son,” Butch answered as he drew on his cigar, “My cigar cubs.”

“Yours?” Eric asked.

“You smoked my special cigars. That means you’re my cubs and I’m your Cigar Bear, son,” Butch answered somberly.

“But you can change us back. Right Dad…I mean, Butch?” Greg asked as he rubbed his cock.

“Sure I can, since you both haven’t shot your load yet. That is what seals the transformation in forever. But look at you son. Been hard since you lit up. Do you really want to change back?” Butch replied with a grin, already knowing the answer.

Greg looked at Eric, who looked back. They both felt great. They deep down liked who they became, and what their friend became. They couldn’t imagine not feeling this type of pleasure ever again.

“No, Dad,” Greg said.

“No, Dad,” Eric also said.

“Just as I thought,” Butch said as he took off his shirt, “Now, why don’t you cubs come sit on the couch with your Daddy Bear before we make this permanent.”

“Yes, Dad,” the two cigar cubs chimed together, looking forward to sealing their smokey fates forever.

bear tf - bearded - hairy tf - weight gain

Sundays were the one day of the week I liked to let myself wander through town with no purpose. This one was no different. I threw on a gray shirt and jeans and looked myself over in the mirror. Brown eyes, thin, and a mop of hair on my head. Average in every way.

I headed out the door bound for an eclectic neighborhood I’d never visited. After grabbing a coffee and strolling for an hour I happened across a magic shop delicately crammed between a tattoo parlor and a record store. I popped in for a quick look - browsing through card decks, ouija boards,  and old books explaining everything from how to brew Wiccan tea to how to make someone fall in love with you. 

The jar sat on the highest shelf of the magic shop, behind a row of cracked porcelain masks and dusty bottles labeled things like Moon Milk and Widow’s Salt. I almost missed it.

It was small, squat, and sealed with black wax. The honey inside glowed dark amber, thick as syrup, with little gold flecks suspended in it. A handwritten label curled around the glass:

BEAR HONEY

For the man who wants more of himself.

I laughed under my breath. “Cute.” The shopkeeper, a narrow old woman with silver rings on every finger, looked up from behind the counter.

“That one is not cute,” she said.

I turned the jar in my hand. “What does it do?”

“It gives appetite,” she said. “Weight. Warmth. Hair. Presence.”

My face went hot before I could stop it. I was twenty-three and built like a coat hanger. Narrow shoulders, flat chest, soft chin, patchy stubble that never became anything no matter how long I waited. I had spent years wanting to be bigger. Not gym-bro cut. Not pretty. Bigger in the way certain men were bigger: thick, hairy, solid, impossible to miss. Men with bellies that filled out flannel shirts, beards that swallowed their jaws, voices that sounded like gravel in a barrel. Men who got called bears.

I bought the jar.

At home, in my quiet little rental house at the end of a suburban cul-de-sac, I set it on the kitchen counter and stared at it like it might stare back.

“One spoonful,” I said aloud. “It’s not like it’ll work anyway.”

The wax broke with a soft crack. The smell hit me immediately: honey, smoke, pine needles, warm skin. It made my mouth flood.

I dipped a spoon in. The honey stretched in a golden thread, reluctant to let go of itself. I tasted it. For a second, nothing happened. Then heat bloomed behind my ribs.

I gripped the counter. “Oh.”

It rolled through me slowly, down into my stomach, up into my throat, out along my arms. My skin prickled. My T-shirt tightened faintly across my chest. I ran to the bathroom mirror.

At first I thought it was the lighting. Then I leaned closer and saw my jaw looked sharper, darker with new stubble. Not a full beard. Not even close. But more than I’d had that morning.

I smiled. My reflection smiled back, hungry-eyed.

The next day at work, nobody said anything at first. I sat in my cubicle and tried not to touch my face. By ten, I’d gone to the bathroom three times to admire the stubble that had thickened overnight into a real shadow. My cheeks, usually smooth, were rough under my fingers. My shirt clung differently too. Not much. Just enough that I felt aware of myself every time I moved.

At lunch, Marcus from accounting passed me near the vending machines and did a double take.

“New look?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Just forgot to shave.”

He grinned. “You should keep forgetting.”

That was all he said. But it followed me home. I told myself I wouldn’t touch the honey again. I made it until 8:17 p.m.

“One more,” I whispered, standing barefoot in the kitchen.

The second spoonful was easier. My body seemed to know what to do with it. The heat came faster, thicker, almost pleasurable in how overwhelming it was. My back arched. My knuckles pressed into the counter until they hurt.

Hair prickled across my chest. I yanked my shirt off. Fine dark curls were spreading from the center of my chest, gathering between my pecs, trailing down toward my stomach in a line that hadn’t existed before. My belly, always flat and forgettable, had softened outward slightly, warm and rounded under my palm.

My voice came out lower when I laughed.

“No way.”

By morning, I had to shave my neck but couldn’t bring myself to touch my cheeks. The beard was still short, but it was real now, dark and dense, with a mustache beginning to push over my upper lip.

At work, people noticed.

“Dude,” Marcus said. “You look different.”

“Good different?” I asked, too quickly.

He looked me up and down. “Uhh. Very good different.”

That day, men looked at me. They noticed me. Not everyone. Not dramatically. But enough.

A guy at the coffee shop held my gaze too long. A man in the elevator smiled at me and said, “Nice beard.” My own reflection in the dark glass of the office lobby looked older, broader, less apologetic.

By Thursday night, the jar was half empty.

Each spoonful came with a promise.

This is the last time.

Then my shoulders spread until old shirts pinched under the arms.

This is the last time.

Then my voice dropped so low the automated phone system at work stopped recognizing me.

This is the last time.

Then my beard came in all at once, a thick black-brown mass that covered my cheeks, jaw, and neck, with a heavy mustache that brushed my lip and made me look like some lost mountain man standing in a fluorescent bathroom.

I loved it. That was the worst part. I loved rubbing both hands through it. I loved the dark hair thickening over my chest, my shoulders, my forearms. I loved my belly growing heavy and round, no longer something I could suck in, but something powerful and warm that pushed against my shirts and made me look lived-in, animal, real.

I loved the way my hunger sharpened. I ate everything. Eggs, toast, steak from the fridge at midnight, peanut butter from the jar, spoonfuls of honey after every meal. Not the magic honey. Regular honey. It tasted thin now, almost insulting.

By Friday morning, I could barely fit into my work clothes. The buttons of my largest shirt strained over my belly. My beard had grown wild overnight, spreading high on my cheeks and down my throat. My hair was longer too, thicker, unruly. I looked like an older brother I’d never had. Or a father. Or a warning.

In the office lobby, the security guard frowned at me.

“Can I help you?”

“It’s me,” I said, giving my name.

He blinked at the sound of my voice.

I showed him my badge.

He stared at the photo: skinny, clean-faced, nervous. Then he stared at me.

“How old is that photo?” he said.

I tried to laugh, but it came out like a growl.

Upstairs, my coworkers barely hid their reactions. Some were fascinated. Some were afraid. Marcus didn’t joke anymore. He watched me from across the break room as I devoured two vending-machine sandwiches and wiped mustard from my mustache with the back of my hand.

“What the fuck happened to you? Are you having an allergic reaction all over your body? Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

Something in his tone irritated me. The concern. The softness. The assumption he could ask. I stepped closer before I meant to. Marcus stiffened.

“I said I’m fine,” I rumbled.

The room went silent. I went home early. That night, I stood in the kitchen with the jar in my hand. There was only a little left. A dark golden smear clinging to the bottom.

I could stop. I should have stopped. My reflection stared back from the black window above the sink: huge shoulders, heavy belly, beard spilling down my chest, eyes bright and feverish beneath a lowered brow. I looked like every man I had ever wanted to be, exaggerated until he became something else.

“Last time,” I said. But my voice did not sound like mine. I scraped the jar clean.

The final change came in my sleep. I dreamed of trees pressing close around the house. Of digging my fingers into bark. Of smoke, meat, cold air, wet leaves. Of men looking at me with fear and wanting mixed together until I couldn’t tell the difference.

When I woke, the bed frame was cracked. My feet were at the end of the mattress. My body filled the room with heat and musk. Hair covered me in a thick dark pelt across my chest, belly, shoulders, back, arms. My beard had become enormous, bushy and untamed, with a broad mustache that hid my mouth unless I pulled it aside. My belly rested heavy in my lap when I sat up.

I strained to stand and my shoulders brushed against the door frame as I left my room. 

“No,” I whispered. It came out like thunder.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Marcus.

Are you ok? I’m really worried about you.

I looked at my hands. Bigger. Rougher. Nails thicker than they should have been. I typed slowly.

Sick. Leave me alone. 

Then I deleted it. What was the point?

By afternoon, I had eaten almost everything in the fridge. By evening, I found an old cigar box in the back of a drawer, left by the previous tenant. I had hated the smell when I moved in. Now I opened it and inhaled. My whole body relaxed.

I sat on the back porch under the darkening sky, massive and shirtless, belly fur shifting in the cool air, beard spilling over my chest. The first cigar tasted like smoke and earth and inevitability.

A neighbor’s dog barked at the fence. I turned my head. The barking stopped.

My phone buzzed again. Then again. Friends. My mother. Marcus. I ignored them all.

Somewhere inside me, the skinny kid I used to be was panicking. He wanted to call the magic shop. He wanted to beg the old woman for a cure. He wanted his badge photo to match his face again. But I swallowed that voice until he was nothing but an echo.

I leaned back in the porch chair, felt it creak under my weight, and dragged one hand through the enormous beard that had taken over my face.

Derek smiled as he walked back to the teacher's lounge. He had just finished having a heart-to-heart with one of his students, Billy, who was again reported for bullying. The high school senior reminded him a lot of himself at that age- young, arrogant, and a total asshole. If it hadn't been for Derek's high school sweetheart helping him see there was more to him than that, who knows how he would've ended up. Derek could only hope that he could have a similar positive effect on Billy.

"Mr. Novak!" He turned to see an older woman with wild grey hair coming towards him, a concerned look on her wrinkled face.

"Hey there. Can I help you?" Derek smiled.

The woman stomped up to him, jabbing a finger against his chest. "I heard about what happened with my grandson today. Bullying, harassment, cruelty! And you… You allow this nonsense?" Her words dripped with anger and disappointment.

"I'm deeply sorry about what Tim has been going through. I've spoken with all of those involved." Derek started, "Ma'am, please let me reassure you, I'm working to address…"

Derek's words were cut off as the irate grandmother suddenly grabbed his hand, turning it over to examine his palm. Her eyes widened as she traced the lines intently.

"This palm… This fork here!" She exclaimed, pointing to a distinct V-shaped line intersecting his lifeline. "Major change, right here. A crossroads taken." Her gaze snapped up to meet his, ancient and knowing. "It seems you weren't always the saintly teacher you pretend to be now, hmm Mr. Novak?" A sardonic smile played at her lips. "Once a bully, always a bully they say. Arrogant! Narcissistic! You'd rather empathize with hooligans than those they torment!"

"Now hold on just a moment…"

"They think they come to you for help! But you can't help your true nature. You deceive them!"

In a fluid motion, the old woman pressed her thumb and forefinger together over the intersection point in Derek's palm. To his shock, he watched the lines shift and merge beneath her touch until the distinctive Y shape smoothed into a single line. A chill ran down his spine. Derek stumbled back, his mind reeling as he stared at his palm in disbelief. What the hell just happened? He looked up at the old woman, questions burning in his eyes, but she had already turned away, muttering darkly under her breath.

_____

Derek trudged into his apartment, his mind still spinning from the bizarre encounter with Tim's grandmother earlier. The place was a complete disaster - dirty laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer bottles and pizza boxes littering every surface. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sweat and neglect. He wrinkled his nose, feeling strangely drawn to the pungent aroma despite himself.

"Jenny? Babe, you home?" He called out, expecting to hear his girlfriend's voice, "Babe is everything…"

But as the words left his mouth, a flicker of confusion passed through him. Why was he calling for Jenny? They hadn't been together in…in… Memories flashed through his mind - he asked her out, she brutally shot him down, they hadn't spoken since. He felt his stomach churn just at the thought.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. When did he start letting things go like this? Derek prided himself on being put together, both personally and professionally. But standing amidst the chaos of his once-neat living space, he barely recognized it, "I-I'll clean up tomorrow." He muttered, "I need some sleep."

______

Derek jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. Morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains as he sat up, blinking in confusion. His eyes fell to his bare torso and he gasped - his chest hair, usually a thick patch, was nowhere to be seen. Running a hand over his jaw, he recoiled at the smoothness beneath his fingertips. Even his five o'clock shadow, a constant companion, had vanished overnight.

"Derek! Get up, you're gonna be late for school!" His mother's voice rang out, accompanied by the sound of her fist pounding on the door.

School? Derek leapt out of bed, his mind reeling. But wait… This wasn't his apartment. His eyes landed on posters of scantily clad models and sports cars plastered on the walls. A desk overflowing with textbooks and energy drink cans. It took a full minute for the realization to hit him - he was in his childhood bedroom.

Derek stumbled to the mirror, hardly recognizing the face staring back at him. Smooth skin, clear eyes, a youthful glow - he looked like he was 18 again, a high school senior. His hands shook as he gripped the sink, memories flooding back. The last thing he remembered clearly was confronting Billy about bullying Tim. Then the strange encounter with Tim's grandmother, her cryptic words, the sensation of his palm changing…

A loud bang on the door startled him, "Derek! I mean it, you'll miss first period!" His mom's voice held an edge of frustration.

"I'm up!" He called back, trying to keep his voice steady. Panic rising in his throat, he rifled through drawers, pulling on a t-shirt and jeans that felt too tight across his increasingly larger muscles, "I'll be down in a minute!"

______

Heart racing, Derek navigated the crowded hallways of the high school, memories of his teenage years washing over him. Lockers slamming, kids laughing and shouting greetings to each other. It all felt so vivid, so real. He spotted a familiar face among the sea of students - Martha, one of his colleague and good friend. Relief flooded through him and he made a beeline towards her.

"Martha, thank god," he started, lowering his voice, "Something really weird is happening to me. I woke up and-"

Martha cut him off with a sharp look, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him out of earshot of nearby students. "Derek, enough with the informalities. You know better than to call me by my first name."

Her tone was stern, almost parental. Derek blinked, taken aback.

Derek's jaw dropped open, a wave of confusion and humiliation washing over him. "What do you mean? Martha, it's me, Derek. Your friend, your colleague…"

Martha's expression softened slightly, but her posture remained rigid. "Derek, I don't know what game you're playing at, but it needs to stop. Your behavior lately has been completely unacceptable. Skipping classes, showing up disheveled, making inappropriate comments to the other students…" She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And for heaven's sake, when was the last time you showered or applied deodorant?"

A pungent odor seemed to emanate from Derek, a mix of stale sweat and Axe. Martha wrinkled her nose, stepping back slightly.

Derek lifted his arm, sniffing his armpit experimentally. An amused chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Y'know, that actually doesn't smell half bad…" The words left his mouth before he could censor himself. Horror dawned on his face as he realized what he'd said, "I'm fine, Ms. Johnson. Thanks for your concern."

Before turning to leave. But in his haste, he failed to watch where he was going. His shoulder collided with another student's chest, sending them both stumbling.

"For fucks sake! Watch it, loser!" Derek snarled, shoving the smaller boy roughly. It took a moment for recognition to set in. Timmy, "Tch, typical fuckin' loser. Always in the way." He sneered, looking Timmy up and down with contempt, "I…" He froze, "I… I'm so sorry, Timmy. That was…" He swallowed hard, fighting back tears, "I didn't mean it. Please forgive me."

Derek reached out a hand, but Timmy flinched away, eyeing him warily. Around them, other students began to take notice, whispers and stares piercing the sudden tension. And Derek fled. Left the building and ran down the street, only stopping when he caught a glimpse of himself in a car mirror.

Derek stood frozen, staring at his reflection in shock and revulsion. The person looking back at him was a stranger, yet achingly familiar. It was like gazing into a twisted mirror, seeing the worst version of himself magnified tenfold. Young, cocky, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Muscles rippling beneath his thin t-shirt as he flexed unconsciously. Blonde hair artfully tousled, blue eyes glinting with mischief and barely concealed arrogance. He looked like a caricature of himself at 18- all of his features emphasizing arrogance and cockiness.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Shouldn't you be at school, Mr. Novak?" Derek turned to see Timmy's grandmother, wearing a satisfied smirk. "Or perhaps you prefer to skip class these days, just like old times?"

Derek's blood ran cold, a chill running down his spine. "What did you do to me? Why am I like this?" He demanded, his voice cracking with desperation and fear.

The old woman threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, you naive little boy. I simply removed the catalyst that set you on a different path."

Derek shook his head vehemently, backing away from the old woman. "No, no, no. This isn't me anymore. I'm not that person!" He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. "I don't want to be this arrogant, selfish prick. I fuckin' hate this!" He grabbed his head, "I can feel it... fuck... Please..." Despite his words, he couldn't help but flex his bicep, admiring the way it popped. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The old woman's eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "Look at yourself, Derek. You're already slipping back into old habits. Enjoying the scent of your own musk, aren't you? Appreciating the way your body responds to your newfound strength."

"Shut the fuck up." He snapped, "You don't know shit about me or what I want."

He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled blonde hair, preening slightly. The urge to post a shirtless selfie was suddenly overwhelming. Maybe he'd hit the gym later, really show off his gains. Derek shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts, but they kept creeping back in, tempting him with the promise of validation and admiration.

"You had a choice once upon a time." The old lady said, "But I've set you on a new path. You want to empathize with those hooligans? With those that bully others? You're no better than them."

Derek went to protest. To say something clever. But as he tried to think, he found... nothing. What was there to protest?

"You got a problem with me?" His eyes narrowed, "I don't need to listen to this shit. This is who I am." He cracked his knuckles, relishing the sound. "And if you ask me, I'm pretty fucking awesome like this."

"Yes, yes you are." She smiled, "Enjoy your life Derek."

And with that, she was gone. Leaving Derek to revel in his new life. He looked down at his muscular arms, flexing them instinctively. A slow grin spread across his face as he breathed in his own pungent scent, reveling in it.

"I fuckin' will." He chuckled.

_______

Grinning widely, Derek strode into his old childhood bedroom, leaving the door wide open. He stripped off his shirt without hesitation, tossing it aside carelessly. Staring at his muscular reflection in the full-length mirror, he flexed and posed shamelessly, admiring every inch of his sculpted physique. His hands roaming his abs. He gave his flexed bicep an appreciate squeeze.

"Not bad, bro. Not bad at all," he murmured approvingly, enjoying the musk emanating from his pits. Picking up his phone, he snapped a series of provocative selfies, "Now that's the shit."

This felt right. Like it was always meant to be. And Derek couldn't have been any happier.

The warehouse was dim.

Stiles squirmed in his chair, wrists bound, mouth bloodied from where he’d bitten his lip.

Derek sat across from him, also tied to a chair, breathing hard, body tensed like a spring. They were side by side, ankle-deep in the dark, surrounded by concrete.

A dull echo of a laugh Sounded.

"You pieces of shit are unreal, When are you gonna quit?" the Trickster snarled, sauntering into view with that smug, dead-eyed smile.

"I’m reeeeaaaally tired of the two of you ruining things."

"Let us go, you freak," Stiles spat, his voice cracking.

"Or what?" said the Trickster, twirling two simple leather cords in his fingers.

Hanging from each was a small, obsidian-colored pendant that pulsed faintly.

"These’ll help. I’m gonna make sure you don’t get in my way ever again."

He approached, placing one necklace around Derek’s neck, then one around Stiles’s, though both of them thrashed. The instant the clasp clicked, both necklaces shimmered faintly.

"What the hell did you just do?" Derek growled, eyes flashing wolf-bright.

The Trickster grinned wider. "These babies help me make some adjustments. They'll make you a little more pliable. See, I think the problem is your attitude, Derek. But that’s not true anymore. You're not angry at me all man, right? completely relaxed."

Derek’s breath hitched, and then smoothed.

The veins in his neck faded.

His jaw unclenched.

His head tilted slightly as his expression softened. His fingers, once curled into fists, flexed loosely in his lap.

"Wha... Derek?" Stiles stared, shocked.

Derek blinked slowly. "I... Whats the problem?"

"You’re tied to a damn chair, man! How are you fine?!"

Derek’s brow furrowed. "Huh. I'm not really sure if I care."

The Trickster clapped happily. "See? Much better."

Stiles’s heart pounded. "Don’t you dare..."

"No, he's right to be relaxed," the Trickster said, continuing "We've been friends ever since we met at... I don't know...

how about...

we were on that soccer team down in Brazil? Been buddies ever since."

The pendant around Derek’s neck flashed.

Derek let out a soft breath...and then a light laugh, voice shifting subtly.

His posture changed, spine loosening. His frame narrowed slightly, muscles reshaping into a lean, agile build.

His skin tone darkened to a deep, sun-warmed tan. Black curls thickened atop his head. His jawline stayed sharp but softened with youth.

He looked young

He smiled at the Trickster warmly. "Cara, faz tanto tempo! You still play midfield, yeah?" A slight accent slipped into his speech.

Stiles’s mouth hung open. Fear clutching his gut.

"What the fuck?"

Derek’s brows drew together as he looked at Stiles. "Uh, do I know you man?"

"Derek, it’s me! Stiles! What’s wrong with you?!"

Derek looked genuinely confused. He looked at the Trickster, frowning.

"This your buddy?"

"Nope," the Trickster smirked. "But I'm excited to get to know him, even when we were going out all the time on the team, we never got the chance to hook up with a retired bodybuilder before..."

Stiles flinched.

Heat ran through him like liquid fire.

He groaned as his body bulked. His shirt stretched tight, sleeves ripping at the seams. His arms swelled

veins pulsing,

his traps rising like hills.

His stomach swelled outward before it hardened into a thick brick wall of abs.

His neck thickened.

His entire frame widened with raw mass.

Hair spread across his chest, his jawline thickening, cheeks roughening with beard stubble.

His legs ballooned, calves bulging beneath shredded jeans.

He grunted as his age pushed into his mid 40s.

Memories shifted.

browsing profiles at 2 a.m.

matching with two lean Brazilian guys visiting the city.

One of them, named Derek , had the cutest accent and a tight ass.

He’d invited them both back to his loft.

Excited for what was going to happen.

His lips curled into a cocky smile.

"Damn. You boys look even better in person."

Derek grinned. "your a dream, velho."

Stiles rose from the chair, now completely unbound, stretching. His muscles rippled, tank soaked in sweat.

"Get comfy," Stiles said, voice gravel thick. "You’re not leaving my place tonight."

The Trickster smirked. "Didn’t plan on it."

Derek chuckled, stepping up and rubbing Stiles’s chest. "Damn, velho... tão grande."

The building shifted around them. The warehouse melted away into a loft style apartment.

The lights were low, red LEDs casting the room in a humid glow. The place reeked of testosterone: musk, sweat, and pre.

Stiles, or Sty as he called himself on the app, peeled off his shirt and sprawled on a wide leather couch.

He wore only a pair of black nylon shorts clinging to his tree-trunk thighs, leaving little to the imagination. A shaker bottle was in one hand, a bottle of... something in the other.

Derek and the Trickster, now going by Nico, both leaned against his thighs, grinning. Derek rubbed his hands along Sty’s chest, burying his nose in the sweat dampened hair.

"Fuckin’ hell, bro," Derek said with his smooth Brazilian drawl. "You’re bigger than any guy we’ve ever matched with."

"Guess that’s why you both swiped right," Sty growled, flexing a pec.

Nico laughed, licking sweat off Sty’s neck.

"This is perfect"

Sty blinked lazily. "What was that kid?"

"Nothing," Nico grinned. "You’re perfect."

Sty grabbed the back of Derek’s head and pulled him in for a rough kiss, stubble scraping against smooth jaw.

The new Derek moaned, melting against the older man, one hand wandering down between Sty’s legs.

Nico watched, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

He leaned back, pulling out his phone, recording lazily as the two former enemies rutted against each other on the couch.

Sweat pooled in the creases of Sty's abs as he grunted, Derek's tongue dragging over the deep ridge of his chest.

Sty leaned forward, gripping Derek’s curls, guiding his mouth lower. "C’mon, pup, show your host some appreciation."

Derek grinned, lips shiny, voice thick with lust. "Yes, velho."

The shorts came off.

His mouth wrapped around Sty’s swollen cock, and the older man let out a rumbling growl of pleasure.

Nico smirked, whispering under his breath.

"Sty's favorite thing is a wet mouth around his cock."

Sty moaned as the pleasure magnified, deep and primal, hips jerking up. Derek’s eyes glazed over.

"And Derek… he’s totally addicted to Sty’s cum."

Derek groaned, his throat relaxing as he swallowed deeper. The Tricksters words rewrote needs and instincts, wiping away resistance, layering new obsession.

Sty arched, one hand flexing behind his head, the other gripping the back of Derek’s head, guiding the rhythm. "Fuck yeah, drink it all."

"Time to seal the deal." The trickster said, Slowly standing and snapping his fingers.

The obsidian necklaces shimmered for a final time before liquefying into shadowy ink, sinking into the skin of Derek and Sty’s chests. They hissed as the magic branded them permanently.

bold tattoos etched over their hearts: dark spirals with ancient glyphs curling outward, pulsing once before going still.

Sty grunted, shifting, the sensation ignored in favor of the warm mouth working his cock.

The Trickster Whispered one final command

"You two don't remember me, and you'll never not be dazed enough to turn back."

Memories of the Trickster evaporated.

"Fuck, you’re getting better with that mouth, bro," Sty growled, yanking Derek in deeper.

Derek moaned around his cock, his hands gripping Sty’s waist, desperate for more.

The trickster stepped back.

"Enjoy forever, boys," he whispered.

And in a flicker of shadow, he was gone. *****

Federal Containment Authority

File: AE-1184

Nickname: “The Extraction”

Status: Active

⸻

Acquisition Log:

AE-1184 is a recently identified drug first reported by local authorities in Medellín, Colombia. Since its initial appearance, distribution has spread across multiple criminal networks throughout South America, with confirmed cases in Bogotá, Lima, and São Paulo.

The substance is primarily used by organized groups targeting foreign tourists. All recorded victims have been Caucasian males from upper-middle-class or affluent backgrounds. Confirmed cases include individuals from the United States (87), the United Kingdom (43), Australia (4), and Ireland (1). Victims are typically identified in high-end hotels, bars, and nightlife venues.

Perpetrators approach in small groups, engage targets in casual conversation, and build trust before guiding them away from populated areas—most commonly into quiet streets or private vehicles.

Administration is direct and controlled. In most cases, the substance is injected into the side of the subject’s neck using a fine-gauge needle. A secondary syringe is then used to extract [REDACTED] from the subject.

The effects begin within seconds. Subjects enter a dazed, compliant state, showing no resistance or awareness of their surroundings.

Following exposure, subjects are abandoned. Extracted [REDACTED] is trafficked through underground networks and sold to [REDACTED] individuals for the purpose of [REDACTED].

No subject has been successfully reverted.

———————-———————-——————————-

Case File – Subject B-3 (FKA: Daniel Gallagher)

Daniel Gallagher squinted at his phone as he walked, the bright screen lighting his face in the otherwise dim street. The music from the club still rang faintly in his ears, bass echoing in his chest as he tried to follow the map back to his hotel.

The Irish tourist had been in the city three days, thinking he knew the area by now. But São Paulo looked different at night. It didn’t help that there weren’t as many people out now. Not as many lights either.

Daniel slowed, turning slightly as the map recalculated. “So, left… here?” he muttered to himself.

“E aí, mano.”

Daniel looked up. A man stood a few feet away, hands relaxed at his sides. Early-20s, casual clothes, nothing threatening about him.

“You… not from here, yes?” the guy said, his English broken but clear enough.

Daniel gave a small laugh. “Uh-”

The guy was young - Daniel’s age. There felt like there was an unspoken bond. The guy smiled, nodding. “This area… not so good. Especially with phone.” He gestured toward Daniel’s hand. “People see. They take.”

Daniel instinctively lowered the phone. “Right. Yeah, fair.”

“I help you,” the man continued, friendly, easy. “Where you go?”

“Uh—hotel,” Daniel said, turning the screen toward him. “This one.”

The man leaned in, glancing at it. “Ah, yes. I know. Is not far. I go same way.” He straightened up, already turning slightly down the street. “Come. I walk you for safety.”

Daniel smiled graciously.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. What is your name?”

“João.” The boy shook the Irish tourists hand firmly and the two begin walking.

The man kept an easy pace, hands in his pockets, occasionally glancing back to make sure Daniel was following. The street grew quieter the further they went. The lights were dimmer here. Fewer windows. No people.

Daniel noticed it, faintly. Something about it felt… off.

“Hotel is this way?” he asked.

“Yes, yes,” the man said quickly. “Shortcut.”

They turned down a narrower street.

That was when Daniel felt it.

Two men grabbing him from behind, forcing his hands behind him holding him in position. They knock the tourist to his knees.

“Jaysus!”

As his knees hit the ground, João pressed something sharp into Daniel’s neck. He felt whatever liquid enter his vein spreading throughout his body. The world didn’t spin. It didn’t go black.

It just… slowed.

The tension in his body drained almost instantly. His thoughts, sharp and alert a second ago, dulled like someone had turned the volume down.

“Hey—what—”

The words came out wrong. Too slow. Little did Daniel know, his DNA was becoming like puddy. Completely mailable.

“Segurem-no firme. Prontos para a extração.” João readied a second device. This one was empty.

Before Daniel could react, João jabbed the device into Daniel’s neck, slowly draining a white liquid substance out of him. It just kept coming and coming, filling up the vial in the device.

As the gang member extracted the white liquid from Daniel, Daniel’s awareness dimmed. He didn’t notice as his skin slowly darkened, taking on the warm, sun-kissed tone of someone raised under the blistering sun, not the pale green pastures of his family’s farm back in Ireland.

His features shifted subtly but unmistakably. His nose broadened, eyebrows thickened, and his lips grew fuller. Each change felt impossible, yet inevitable, as if his body was being extracted of everything that made Daniel the Irish man he was.

Heaviness plumped into Daniel’s glutes, as two fat brown globes bounced outwards, splitting his pants. His two jiggling Brazilian cheeks begging to be free from his tight constricting Irish jeans. The same for his front. His average 5 inch white cock fattened and pushed forwards into a fat 7 inch uncut brown cock.

One of the men leaned closer, watching Daniel’s face rapidly grow facial hair. It was ginger, just like the hair on his head. One of the men holding Daniel scanned Daniel’s ginger beard. Against his darkening skin, it looked almost comical. A comical reminder of his diminishing Irish heritage.

“Olha a barba ruiva dele.” One of the men said, voice low and amused. “Eles vão pagar muito por um ruivo.”

Daniel felt it before he saw it—his beard losing its fiery hue. Slowly, the ginger strands darkened, blending into a uniform black, indistinguishable from the men holding him down.

João continued the extraction, the vial already three-quarters full.

Daniel’s mind began to fog. Words jumbled in his head, English slipping away like sand through his fingers. He tried to speak, to protest, but the sounds coming out were broken, confused. Two vocabularies warring inside him, one destined to win, the other to vanish entirely. Portuguese words eliminating his English vocab, like cells killing a virus.

“Por fa… me ajuda,” Danogo croaked, his voice weak and lethargic. His limbs felt like lead, as they thickened up with big beefy muscle. But even with his new Brazilian muscles, he couldn’t push the men off him, though he desperately tried.

Memories surged through his mind like a virus, rewriting him from the inside out. He saw himself as he used to be—skinny, pale, ginger, standing in front of a mirror.

That image flickered, unstable, before being overtaken by something else. A darker, fuller body. Broader. Warmer. Bigger. Round oversized pecs. Big large thick hands. His fat brown Brazilian cheeks wobbling behind him.

His memories of growing up... the cold, open fields of his family’s Irish farm. The green grass, grey skies, early mornings. They didn’t exist anymore, replaced by hot sunlight and salt air, long days by the sea, heat pressing into his skin. His massive body bouncing on the sand as passerbys ogled him up and down.

His years of GAA training, discipline, dedication. All of it began to be overwritten. In its place came football in the streets, laughing with friends. It came so naturally. Like his body was meant for it. Fuck, he was obsessed with it. Football took up so much of his mind. A new obsession that felt like it had been there forever. It was at that point where he questioned what GAA even was.

His memories of himself were overwritten too. His self perception of being a quiet dedicated bookworm with a love for Irish sports VANISHED. As if it was never there. In its place came something louder. Music thumping through crowded rooms. Late nights. Easy laughter. A need to be around people, to be seen.

He tried to push the memories away. To hold onto his Irishness, but it was no use. His thick Brazilian accent prevented anything he said from even sounding vaguely English.

“Sou irlandês… sou… eu… por favor.” Diogo cried to the men, in his dazed stupor. But he looked anything but Irish. “Estou tão confuso.”

He slumped onto the concrete as the men withdrew the device from his neck. The vial was full of the thick, white liquid.

Diogo moaned softly, every movement painful, his body heavy and unresponsive.

“Boa sorte, cara.” João said with a casual wink, leaving the newly Brazilian man sprawled on the ground.

The gang melted into the night. Diogo inspected his unmistakably Latino hand before passing out.

———————-———————-——————————-

Post-Exposure Analysis – AE-1184

AE-1184 does more than just sedate or confuse its targets. The drug extracts the subject’s whiteness (their background, heritage, English fluency, cultural knowledge and memories) - storing it in the white liquid from the subject.

Evidence shows that local gangs are selling this material on the black market. Buyers are often non-white individuals who aim to attain the advantages, social status and privilege associated with white populations, by injecting the stolen whiteness, making themselves privileged white men.

The network appears highly organized and the drug is highly sought after. Victims are carefully chosen for appearance and socioeconomic background, targeted in wealthy areas, and then harvested efficiently.

FCA continues to investigate the buyers and distribution channels. The scale suggests a deliberate, profit-driven trade in human cultural and social capital, with international implications.

Victim Overview – AE-1184

Recovered individuals have been effectively stripped of their original racial and national identities. White, Caucasian tourists lose their English fluency entirely, and in cases in South America, their genetic markers are altered to align with local Latin American populations. Skin tone, facial features, and other inherited traits shift accordingly, leaving the subject biologically and socially indistinguishable from local populations.

Despite some awareness that they no longer belong to their former nationality, subjects are unable to recall meaningful details about their previous lives—names, family, education, or social history are largely inaccessible. Memories of cultural practices and social structures are erased, replaced by the cognitive void left after extraction of privilege and heritage.

All victims are taken in for monitoring and initial assessment. Following containment, they are relocated to supervised housing across Colombia, Peru & Spain (for now Spanish speaking subjects) and Brazil & Portugal (for now Portuguese speaking subjects). Subjects are effectively unable to return to their countries of origin, as the loss of English fluency and cultural familiarity renders them incapable of independent functioning in those societies.

Image of Diogo Galvão (formerly Daniel Gallagher) in São Paulo.

Ongoing Notes

New cases of AE-1184 exposure are reported daily. The drug appears to be spreading beyond South America, with victims now appearing in parts of Africa and India. In these cases, subjects are observed to adopt local racial and cultural traits, effectively becoming African or Indian men following the extraction of their original identities.

At present, it is unknown whether affected individuals can ever be returned to their original identities. By this stage, their original cultural, linguistic, and genetic essence is likely too extensively extracted, used, and dispersed to recover.

"Look man, I told you I don't really swing that way. So can you ju-" "What is it that you desire?" It was such a simple question but it was the last thing John expected to be asked while he was out at the club with some friends. They all eventually split off though and that was when the handsome man dressed in a suit had come up to him. The last thing that John wanted was to be hit on by a guy, even if he did find it flattering. But the moment he told the guy for the third time that he wasn't interested, the man stared into his eyes and spoke in that silky smooth voice.

"What is it that you desire?"

"I...Desire...?" John blinked as he stared at the man, it was suddenly getting harder to think the longer he stared into that deep brown. It was so hard to think about anything, do anything but focus on that captivating gaze and think about desire. He was a nerdy guy who didn't look like he much belonged at the club, only going out because one of his roommates had pushed him into it, trying to get him laid. But there was no luck, he was too nervous and too shy. He hadn't even realised that the man had somehow ebbed him into a dark alleyway close to the club, where nobody else was around.

"I think you desire being told what to do..."

No way, John never liked it when people told him what to do. Even at work, he always hated faking a smile, as if he was looking forward to being ordered around by his boss. He blinked, thoughts feeling muddied and unclear for the first time that night.

He suddenly found himself giving a dumb smile, one that was full of compliance, the grin that told somebody that he had nothing going on. Whether it was a drinking contest or a kiss, he looked dumb enough to do it without thinking, because he didn't think.

Wait but that wasn't right. John...didn't he have a PhD? He looked up, last dregs of intellect forming into realisation as his eyes widened while he stared at the handsome man.

"In fact I think you desire to kiss me with those full lips..."

Full lips? John was sure he was the type to have thin lips, there was barely any desirable features on his face. But the more he thought about it, the more he could feel how his lips grew wider, somewhat heavier as he reached forward, like his body was magnetically attracted to the man. He kissed him like he hungered for it, he kissed him like he wanted to test out these new lips and moaned at how good it felt to kiss a man.

"Enjoying yourself? I'm sure, since you desire to be with men after all, don't you?"

He did. He loved to be with men. God, he was such a slut for men even. He wanted to have them in every orifice, their dicks down his throat and up his ass. As the man slapped his ass, he could feel, much like his lips, the ass cheeks swelling as he moaned and let the man palm him, fingers pushing against his...pants?

No...He wouldn't be wearing pants out to the club. More like shorts, denim shorts that hung tight onto his inflated juicy cheeks and could show off his legs.

"Mmm and of course with such a handsome body, every man wants to be with you. You desire men to worship your body."

He loved it when men worshipped his body. John no longer was scared of sex, of the intimacy of having another person in their bed. In fact beds were somewhat a rarity, alleyways like this and nightclubs was where he loved to get fucked after all. But it made sense, since his club was a place he worked.

"In fact Javi you desire a job where men admire your body." He did! It's why he had asked the man if he could work at his club after all, simply titled LUX, an erotic venue where he could strip and dance for men, gyrate his hips that started to fill out slightly. As his skin grew less pale, like someone who regularly went outside instead of the nerd that stayed at home, his hips gyrated beneath the man's touch.

His skinny body grew into one that was far more muscular and lean, memories of studying at the library replaced with fucking his personal trainer and working out together at the gym. In fact, John Javier realised that he loved the gym a lot. He never had any desire to not exercise, because it just meant that he could look even better for all his clients.

The slight tan spread over his body as he moaned and groaned underneath the man's boss's touch.

"And you desire to service me, to kiss me, to work for me..."

Javier's cock had grown, not only bigger from how horny he was getting, but from the transformation itself. All the changes were making his mind be wiped away, his tired eyes suddenly looked slightly more youthful, wrinkles from stressing and bad skincare smoothed over. Suddenly he wasn't some late twenties grad student but instead Javier was a young twenty-something dancer as his thoughts slowly began to transform into espanol.

It made it harder for John to think, harder to enfocar, harder para resistirlo, harder hacer cualquier cosa, so hard ya que no puede parar, HARD hasta que no puede resistir y debe ceder as his cock throbbed.

"I think you desire to let go, to cum..."

And with one final kiss, one final command, Javier moaned into it and let himself give in entirely. He moaned, the last dregs of John his old self filling his cock as he came everywhere, all over his boss and himself. It was just so hard not to, especially when he was only wearing denim shorts and sandals, moaning and begging for more as he held onto his boss, completely changed.

"Oh fuck boss, that was tan bueno," Javier giggled as he looked down at himself and the mess he had made, needing to head backstage and clean himself up. It wouldn't be the first time he and his boss got together in the alley, but it wasn't his fault, his boss was just a total hottie and he was an airheaded himbo who would do whatever his boss asked.

From nervous nerd to a hot himbo, Javier was no longer the same man that walked into LUX. But then again he knew that no men who ever came in were the same when they came out and he couldn't be any happier.

After all, this is what he desired.

They say: Don’t buy anything from untrustworthy websites. Viruses, spam and far worse things could be lurking there. The moment your details fall into the wrong hands, your peace of mind is gone and your money is gone too.

But Roman says: I don’t care! I want that orange iPhone! For $300, I just have to buy it!

He waited several weeks for his parcel from Zingiber Technology – and sure enough, it arrived after seven weeks. Slightly battered, but it was there. Full of impatience, Roman tore it open. There it was. The latest iPhone. Shiny and shrink-wrapped. He carefully picked it up, turning it gently in his hands. He set it up. Everything worked. His Apple ID, all his passwords. He was just about to install his tax app.

But then… he felt an irrepressible urge to take a selfie. Right at that very moment. Not just any selfie. It had to be topless. Roman was slim; he would never take a photo of himself bare-chested. But it was like an inner compulsion that made him rip his shirt off and throw it to the floor.

Now he stood there in front of the mirror. His heart was beating and bumping against his chest.

Bump.

It tickled.

Bump. Bump.

Hair blossomed on his chest. Bright orange curls wiggled out of his slightly reddening skin. Slowly they spread over his pectorals. Wait...

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump.

His flat chest muscles pressed against Roman's skin, filling it with hard textur, coated with bristly hairs. His free hand came in touch with his new furry chest. Feeling the rough patch under his fingers, he gasped for air. Like water falling down a waterfall the rusty-orange hairs created a path to his lower regions, accompanied by a subtle swelling in his mid-section.

Fffffffhhhhhh. The air was filling his body.

Bump. Bump. Bump. The blood was pumped through his thickening body.

Roman's shoulders tensed. Widening, rounding, spreading into the room, while some sparse red hairs greeted from there, declaring it as their new home.

His forearms filled out. Thickening with every breath as freckles joined the fight over the free patches of skin on Roman's body. They lost around the elbow, giving space to the luscious red curls flowing down his forearms.

Fffffffffffffffffh. Bump. Bump. Ffffffffffffffffffffh.

His upper arm crunched. Muscles and fibers dwelling beneath the skin, creating a solid unit of strength from hand to head.

Click. Another picture. Ffffffffffffh. The growth wandered down to his butt, swelling and stretching his shorts.

He moaned, caressing his nipple, throwing back his head as he could feel blood rushing to his face.

Bump. Bump. Bump.

Roman's hair started curling, forming locks that looked redder by the second, while the same orange hair spread over his clean-shaven face. Crunching and creaking sounds escaped his face as his lower jaw sharpened. His brows extended slightly forward, taking the reddish tone that could be found almost everywhere on his body. An invisible blade carefully traced the outlines.

Deep inside him Roman could feel something shifting. Away from the phone gamer to a trained camera expert, knowing how to show off with the right light. But as the wave of red hairs hit his legs, he was not thinking about it.

He was feeling it. The swelling beneath his skin, the tingling on his skin. He did not think about his feet, bursting out of his sandals.

He did feel the power surge blasting the thin leather stripes away, making place for bigger feet with freckles and tufts of red hair. Different thoughts occupied his minds. Training. Showing off. Posing. Taking pics.

Click. Bump. Bump.

Roman was looking at his mirror selfie. That was who he was. Who he had always been. Who he will always be. And he was feeling everything of himself.

Click.

"That's good enough, the lads gonna love it."

Pfffffffffffffh.

Roman exhaled.

Bump.

Posted.