The Bugbear's Transformation Emporium

The next screen was more complicated than the first two times you had used the app. You filled out each option, confirming the recommended option to start the possession when you woke up and end it once you had fallen asleep. Then, you hit the 'Submit Changes to Queue' button. A warning notification popped up, as it had the last two times you had used the Chronivac.

"The Chronivac is still in beta and unexpected results may occur. If you encounter any issues during use, contact Pérez Alternative Technology support desk for assistance. Would you like to continue?"

That notification had given you pause the first time you saw it, but now, you just tapped the "Yes" option as soon as it appeared. After, what was the worst that could happen?

*****

You began to come to consciousness, feeling strangely warm. You became aware of the sensation of flesh on flesh contact, surrounding your whole body. You felt a pressure in your core as a wave passed through your body. You felt fabric shifting around in front of you as the world shuddered. Something was very wrong. It was dark, but faint light diffused through something above you. That fabric. Was it a blanket?

Suddenly, something large moved beside you, it's limbs rubbing up against your side. Claws scrapped at your legs, though it didn't hurt. It seemed to only be scratching at you. You heard a deep and loud groan come from far behind you, causing you to jump. Or try to jump. It felt more like bolting up in slow motion. You tried to get up, to flee from whatever was next to you or the monster behind, but you found you were stuck in place. Suddenly, you found another emotion course through you, mixing with and overpowering the fear. Extreme and primal arousal.

*****

Jonah Hayes started to wake up. He was alone in bed again. It had been months since he'd last had a girlfriend, and he wasn't exactly putting himself out there to get laid like he did before he started dating his ex-wife. As he scratched his crotch and yawned, his dick flared to life with an erection unlike anything he'd felt in years. He chuckled a bit at his dick straining in his boxers. He didn't have a habit of masturbating in the morning, but it was a Saturday, so why the hell not? He slipped off the covers and underwear, and wrapped his hand around his cock.

****

There was a rush of movement as the fabric covering you was quickly removed. Whatever you were stuck fast to thrashed around before settling down, and you saw that there was much more light now. You were in a room, a pretty large room, though distances seemed a bit strange. Two large, fuzzy pillars raised up on either side of you. You were overwhelmed by how full you suddenly felt as something large and warm wrapped around your entire body. As you turned back to look at what grabbed you, you saw an enormous, yet familiar face smiling at you across a massive hairy chest and a small hill of a belly. It was the face of Jonah Hayes. As his large hand began to squeeze and rub you up and down, you realized what was happening. You were the cock of the hot neighbor you grew up next to.

He began to moan as you spiralled. What the fuck was going on? Oh, fuck, that felt so good! Did you pick the wrong option on that app? God, he was hot! Was this a bug with the app? Holy fuck!

****

Jonah liked to jerk off every once and a while, but something about this morning felt different. It was intense, like his internal wiring got a jumpstart. He tried to think about hot women, those he'd hooked up with, actresses he liked, and one lady in a porno he'd watched a while ago. None of it really felt right, despite the pleasure he was getting from working his hog. He kept thinking back to work, mostly his coworker and friend Marty. How thick he was, his nice beard and smile, his crass yet cheerful disposition. His round, hairy ass.

Jonah shook his head. Where'd that thought come from? He'd never thought about another man like that. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opened a private tab, and searched up a video he often came back to. As it started, he kept lingering on the man in the video, not the woman he'd jerked off to many times. The man was hairy and thick, though not exactly muscular. The kind of man obviously cast to shift focus to the woman, though Jonah couldn't help but wonder what that man would look like on Jonah's bed, under him.

At that thought, Jonah stopped touching his penis. What was going through his brain? He wasn't gay! He didn't want to fuck other dudes! He got up out of bed, boner still raging, and went to take a cold shower.

****

You were so fucking close! Jonah stopped touching you just as you felt that you were going to explode. You had been seeing flashes of thought, images of thick hairy men. Thoughts of someone you seemed to know, or maybe Jonah seemed to know?

As you were lifted up, seeing the path to the restroom at half height, you were still so needy. Despite everything being so wrong, it had felt so good when the man you were attached to was touching you all over your cock body. 'Keep going!' you tried to yell. Though no sound left your metaphorical mouth, you felt yourself pulse as your slowly drooping body straightened back up again. As the cold water of the shower began pouring onto you, you tried to think about the other man you saw flashes of moments ago. That nice hairy belly that showed when he reached up to grab something. The thought of what kissing that furry mustache might feel like.

****

Jonah's erection wasn't going down in the cold shower. He started to worry that he might need to go to the hospital when the thought of his coworker Marty flooded back into his brain. God, he just wanted to grab hold of his friend and stick his cock deep into those round cheeks of his! Jonah couldn't help himself as he turned the water warmer and pumped his dick. He moaned as he thought of some of the other hairy men he knew, like his highschool coach and the plumber that visited last week. Before long, he got on one knee as he was beginning to shake in the shower. He felt muscles spasm as an intesnse orgasm rocked his world.

****

You were screaming in pleasure as the built up pressure exploded out of you. You could taste the torrent of salty cum as Jonah fondled your lower half. Satisfaction welled up in you as you felt yourself slowly fall into a bit of a torpor. You deflated a bit, though you still maintained a respectable size as you flopped around while Jonah got back on his feet and finished his shower. As the man who owned the dick you were inhabitanting, stopped the water and  started to get ready for the day, he looked down at you with an amused smile.

"Damn, buddy! What was all that about?" He said down to you, towel over his shoulders as you got a mouthwatering view of his hairy torso.

****

Later that day, Jonah downloaded a gay hookup app. He knew they existed, but he'd never thought to look into it until the second time he came that morning. You felt yourself perk up as Jonah discovered Marty's picture on the app's grid of nearby men. He paused before your prodding led him to open up the chat feature. He typed out a quick message to his friend.

"Hey Marty, it's Jonah. You're not gonna believe this."

****

Sunday night, you were thrust in and out of a chubby closeted bisexual road worker named Marty. Jonah and Marty were both grunting and moaning as the bearish work buddies went from fucking to making love. As you came into Marty's hairy ass, Jonah collapsed onto his shorter friend's fuzzy belly. Marty had taken you like a champ, and smiled as he looked down at the friend he'd always wanted to sleep with, but that he was sure was 100% straight.

"Hey, Jonah! What are we gonna tell the boys at work?" Marty said, "Think they'll be jealous both of us got laid this weekend?"

****

Months went by, and you stayed Jonah's cock. You found yourself increasingly pleased to be used by the hot hairy man who owned you as more and more of your human mind faded. Your conscienceness just became a horny presence in Jonah's body as you subtly encouraged him to suck and fuck men in all shades of beefy, hairy, fat, and kinky. You especially liked when Marty, who Jonah started dating after a couple months fooling around, put you in his mouth and tickled you with his beard. You felt safe and supported as you rode around in Jonah's underwear as he worked hot, sweaty days.

The only time you felt somewhat human was when Jonah dreamed. You never slept yourself, though your mind wasn't all that active unless Jonah was also horny. You would often find yourself as various men in Jonah's dreams, either getting fucked by him or fucking other hairy men in the background. You'd even fucked Jonah a couple times in his dreams, though it was clear the man preferred to top. Other than those rare moments of being something more, you soon forgot you were anything other than Jonah's cock.

****

"Oh shit! Mr. Enzo, I just found another beta user who has been missing for months."

"God damnit, I knew it was too soon! I should have closed the beta sooner. Can we get them back, Jamie?"

"I don't know. Reality is so unstable around them. That's why it took so long for me to notice they were gone. Luckily, they don't seem to be in any distress, though the user's brainwaves seem much weaker than usual."

"Alright, see what you can do, you smart, handsome boy! I have a meeting I need to get to, but I'll try to help when I get back. Love you, boy. Be back soon!"

When I spotted him in the locker room, I knew I had my man. Six and a half feet tall, jacked and hairy with a small yet noticable musclegut. A full white beard and close cropped hair framed his grumpy face. From his tan face and more than merely ornamental muscles, I could tell that he was the kind of guy who spent a lot of time laboring outside. He was deep on the far end of middle aged, a couple decades older than my current body's former owner, though I've actually walked this world for centuries before he was born.

I won't deny it, my quarry was very attractive. I've tried on many different faces and identities, but I always tend to gravitate towards masculinity. Dudes fuckin' other dudes is a classic combo, in my opinion. Men also just tend to suck more often, which is perfect for sating my more unusual hungers. I could tell from a deep reading of his aura that my target didn't share my view on men. Also because of what ol' grumpus said when he caught me staring

"Eyes to yourself, you fat fuck. We don't like cocksuckers at this establishment." He glared down at me sitting down on the lockerroom bench.

"Hey man, I don't want any trouble," I lied, "A guy in my D&D group said I should check this place out. Are you a regular here?"

I decided to wear a pokemon t-shirt to the gym and drop D&D into the conversation, partly because I do play both, but also because I was trying to bait out a bully. Nothing is more tantalizing to an old school bully than a nerd.

"Damn, son. You really are a loser, aren't you? I'm Hank, Hank Summers, and I basically run this gym." He said, clearly uninterested in offering his hand in greeting. "I should show you a thing or two about the order of things around here. Meet me in the back room and I can show you a thing or two about how a real man works out."

I pretended to look scared and quietly nod. In any other situation, I would assume such an offer would mean at least one of us would be getting fucked and/or sucked. I knew that thought wasn't also on Hank's mind, but I still smiled as he walked away because that was still going to be happening. Hank had been top dog too long and had no idea what he'd gotten into. I got up, and followed him into the main room, past the machines, to a door in the back. He opened it to a studio with mats on the floor, and closed the door behind us.

"Alright, kid, get down and start doing push ups. I'll watch and correct your form, 'cause I know you're gonna mess it up." He said, pointing down to the floor.

That's when I threw aside the mock fear, and laughed at him. "My form is just fine, 'sir', I think *you* are the one who's form needs fixing, bud!"

The anger that flared in those hateful eyes was better than any appetizer I could order at a restaurant. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and twisted it as he pulled me in to drill me down with his eyes. I felt his breath on my face and could smell his natural body odor. When his fingers brushed against my collarbone, I knew I had hit the jackpot. I could take the measure of a man the moment he laid his hands on me, and ol' Hank here had been in karmic debt for some time.

"What the fuck did you say to me you f****t?" He said, spittle flying onto my face. "Boy, you're gonna pay for that lip of yours!"

I saw him raising his hand to strike me, so I snapped my left hand. He instantly froze in position, those big strong muscles of his useless in resisting my power. His eyes still moved and his face strained to shift his expression from indignation to fear. I could have frozen everything, including his thoughts, but I like it when my little projects know what is happening to them. I love the way their fear tastes.

"Now, that's better. Just stay nice and still for me." I said, as I slipped out of my shirt, still stuck in his grasp. "Let's see what I'm working with."

I lifted up on my toes to meet his mouth as I kissed him deeply. I sensed his anger, a quiet, pained moan rumbling from deep inside him. I felt the growl as I wrapped my arms around his big, hairy barrel chest, knowing that he was unable to do anything to stop me. My tongue entered his mouth, as I reached out to taste his history. I drank deep as decades unspooled in his mouth, and I saw the events that made Hank Summers the man he was today. Two failed marriages, substance abuse, falling into conservative internet groups, popularity in college and highschool that led to an inflated ego that feels threatened by anything different than him. I saw slights, asshole decisions, and some actual crimes as I tallied them all. None of his life circumstances excused his sins, of course. Honestly, they all made for a lovely cocktail that had so much I could work with. That I could take away.

I broke away from the kiss, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, lingering on the taste of his refreshing tragedy of a life. I snapped my fingers to give Hank back control of his head.

"YOU FAT FUCKING FREAK! YOU ARE DEAD! HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS? HEY, I NEED HELP IN HERE!" He screamed, flailing his head around, though the rest of his body remained still, wound to attack an invisible person in his left fist.

"Shut up, you bitch!" I shouted, loud enough for him to hear through his own yells. "No one can hear you, I made sure of it. You've lived quite the life Hank Summers. So many opportunities handed to you, and you squandered most of them. What a waste you are!"

Hank wised up enough to shut up and listen. He managed to cover up the fear in his face, but I knew from his eyes that his reality was fracturing. It was time for me to dig into the main course and break apart his world completely. I snapped my left hand again.

Hank's dick strained in his athletic shorts as it instantly became more erect than it had in years. He began panting profusely as an entirely new sexuality downloaded into his head in seconds. All of the homoerotic gym culture, dude bro aesthetics, and so-called 'traditional masculinity' this man had seeped himself in for decades swirled inside of him as subtext became text and his body rewired itself to crave intimacy with other men. He moaned a bit as he looked down at me, though the anger remained the dominant expression on his face. I brushed the tip of his dick with my hand and felt a small wet spot of precum form at my touch. I got down on my knees and removed the wrapper from my next treat.

"No, no, no, stop! What are you doing?" Hank said, now genuinely fearful and suddenly also quite desperate. "I'm not a fuckin' fairy! You can't...uuuggghhhhh, oooohhhh...fuckkkkk..."

His moans betrayed his indignation as I worked his shaft. Ripples of energy coursed through Hanks body, as his muscles flexed and his bones shuddered, sensing imminent change. In less than 30 seconds, Hank began to orgasm from the best blowjob he had ever received. I greedy swallowed down his cum, which was infused with the very thing Hank treasured most about his body, it's size and strength. His muscles each deflated like a quickly consumed juice pouch, his flesh stretching back into place, more like rubber than the skin of a man in his 60s. His entire body compressed as his entire frame gently shifted to reduce in size. As I chugged the nearly endless jizz from his 7 inch dick, I lowered my head down to meet it's new height. Hank lost inch by inch of height, as 6'6" became 6'2" became 5'8". The nice layer of fat on his muscles began to collect into clumps, preventing his body from being anything you might call 'thin', though I knew I'd want to plump him up more soon. His dick began to retreat from my mouth, though not because it was softening. He lost almost half of its length as his moans raised a bit in pitch, the geometry of his throat changing. I eventually felt the stream of cum become a trickle as he stopped changing in height, now at a mere 5'1", still as far away from the average male height as before, only in the opposite direction.

I smacked my lips as I stood up, invigorated by the stolen strength. There is nothing like taking away the one thing that a man has that makes him believe he is superior to those around him. My own body grew several inches in height as it began to digest Hank's stolen mass. I was definitely fatter than Hank had been, though the stolen muscle made me look like a massive powerlifter. I glanced over at myself in a mirror on the wall, and while I was really hot like this, I knew I'd be able to return to my usual, comfortable shape and size later. Hank's eyes followed me as I got to my feet, now looking up at me for the first time.

"Oh, God. How did you...why did I like...oh shit!" He said as he noticed the difference in height between us. "What the fucking hell is going on! What kind of demon are you?"

"Not technically a demon, Hank. I'm just someone who doesn't like bullies, and unlike the rest of your many victims, I have the power to do something about it. I'm going to reshape you into what you despise, and you're going to hate that you love it. Now that you're so cute and small, I'd say you're less of a threat. Here, you can move again."

I snapped my fingers yet again to release the hold on him, as Hank's fist crumpled harmlessly into my chest and his body tumbled into my much larger arms. I wrapped those arms around him, holding him down the old fashioned way as he futilely struggled to escape my grasp. His yells were muffled by my hairy chest as his head was stuck between my meaty man tits.

"That's enough, Hank. I think it's time to introduce you to a new version of yourself. You're outdated, old man, but I can fix that. I just need to rewind your tape."

I lugged the small man in my grasp over towards the mirror as I snapped my fingers once more. The changes in his body started much more subtly than before, as years fell away from him. I turned Hank around and picked him up so that he could get a look at his face as the wrinkles around his eyes smoothed over. Silent for once, he stared in fascination and horror as his white beard began to darken to black. As he lost decades, the memories of the fleeing years grew dim as they filtered to the back of his mind. Tattoos and scars disappeared from his naked body, their stories unwinding alongside the rest of his long and miserable life. His body hair darkened as it also grew a little more sparse, though Hank had apparently always been somewhat hirsute. His body travelled back over three decades before I stopped the process in his mid 20s, the usual age of men that Hank liked to harass at the gym, believing they needed his advice. I set down the small naked man who now looked nearly ten years younger than myself. He was stunned, looking at himself in the gym mirror and touching his own face and body.

I gave him a moment to take it all in before I grabbed around his belly from behind and said, "Holy shit, Hank! You're such a cute bear cub now! I could just gobble you up. Metaphorically speaking, of course! Though I bet I could literally eat you as well."

Hank paled at my laugher from the comment, though didn't try to get away again. He looked up at me through the mirror and said with a higher, less confident voice, "What have you done to me? I'm weak, now! No one will take me serious like this."

"Not in the gym, no. I'm sure you'll be a hit at the queer run game store in town though." I put my hands on his shoulders and applied a little pressure. "Alright, boy, I drained you, now I'm gonna fill you up. Get on your knees."

I pressed down as Hank dropped on command, broken by my power. I walked in front of him, pulled off my own athletic shorts, and sat down on a bench right beside the mirror. I beckoned Hank forward and directed him to my hearty, though not enormous, cock.

"Suck it, boy," I demanded.

"N-no...I-I won't," the young Hank said, mustering up a last strain of defiance. His eyes locked onto my hairy crouch like a dog locks onto a treat.

"Don't give me that, cub," I chided, putting my hand to the back of his head. "I know you want it, you just need one last push."

I shoved his mouth onto my pole, and the first drop of precum instantly taught him all he needed to know about being a grade-A cocksucker. He immediately took to the task with gusto and desperation, developing an intense desire to please those around him, especially bigger men and older men. As he worked over my dick, I worked over his reality, giving his life a new story to make sense of the changes. Hank Summers was no longer the son of Jim and Denise Summers, he was now the youngest son of Chuck Summers, Hank's former younger brother. Chuck, freed from the redicule of his older brother, flourished and was able to explore books, computers, trading card games, and all manner of nerdy interests. Chuck's nerddom extended to all of his kids, especially his youngest. I chucked and moaned as I saw a Triforce tattoo appear on the right shoulder of the cub sucking me off.

This new Hank was bullied a bit in highschool, especially as he came to terms with his body and his sexuality, though his parents supported him fully when he came out to them near the end of junior year of highschool. I knew I was getting close as a bearpaw tattoo filled in on his upper left chest. In college, Hank developed an affinity for bears and daddies, and began to explore the kink scene, finding himself a natural sub. It was there that he met his now fiancé, a man 20 years older than him, and funnily enough, the same friend who had originally tipped me off to old Hank's behavior in the gym. Young Hank loved his man and preferred to call him daddy around the house since he had moved in a few months ago.

I had one last 'gift' to give as I groaned loud and deep, my dick flooding the cub's mouth with potent seed. I saw him bloat up a bit more, as he became a butterball of a bear cub. Any real athleticism was flushed out of the boy, replaced with a desire to snack, play games, and get fucked. New Hank had wanted to try getting a bit more into shape, so his daddy gave me a call to see if I could train him, possibly in more was than one. Of course I agreed, as I had flirted with the cub the few times I had seen him, my friend laughing at his boy's flustered arousal at my advances.

Hank finished swallowing my load as he gasped for air. In that moment, the only vestiges of the old Hank lived in our two minds. I patted the side of his face, setting up a lock in his mind for any conscious expression of old Hank unless I temporarily unlocked the enchantment, a pretty routine bit of fuckery I employ for full life rewrites. It only minorly reduces the intelligence of my targets, though it does mean that I'll get a little snack anytime I let the old Hank resurface for a bit.

"What the fuck! My life, it's all mixed around. You can't just leave me like this? I'm not some fat, nerdy, cocksucker!" Hank said as he shook himself out of his cocksucking daze.

"Hank, that's all you're ever going to be." I said, looking down at him on the floor with a wide, unnerving grin on my face. "Now, go put on your clothes. I think we're done training for today."

I handed him the Pokemon shirt I had been wearing, though it was now smaller, along with the rest of my old clothes that appeared in a neatly folded pile next to me. He nervously took them and quietly got dressed. I stood up as he finished, and grabbed him into a big embrace. He flinched, though melted into the hug, unable to help himself from enjoying being held by a big sexy bear.

I kissed him on the forehead and said, "You're so much better like this, Hank. I know a part of you hates this, and I love that it does. However, you now have a lot more life to live, and I know you're going to love it. You'll be kinder, more fun, and just better this time around. Now, go on, boy. It's time for you to go home."

I turned him towards the door and couldn't help but give him a firm, playful slap on the ass as he began to leave. He actually smiled back at me before he remembered himself and impotent rage filled his face. He opened the door, stepped through, and then forgot he was ever anyone else but himself.

***Later in the Evening***

I was still bigger than usual, and I thought I'd maybe keep some of old Hank's muscles and height as my new baseline, at least while I was training new Hank. Some of it had to go, however, and I shed nearly half of it while I took my dogs for a walk. While I wouldn't need to feed again for months, this body still needed actual food, so I was sitting down for dinner at my table when I got a text. It was from Hank.

thank u for training with me this morning, sir! i hate gyms, but it wasn't bad with u to help me!

daddy just took this pic of me and wanted me to send it to u to thank u, lol.

Porter sighed and opened the door, greeting the man, "Hey Mr. Jacobs. Are you here to...mmmphhh!?"

Porter was stopped mid sentence at the large man lifted up his left arm and stuffed Porter's face directly into his armpit. Porter immediately tried to pull away, but Mr. Jacob's wrapped his other arm around the young man and pulled him deeper into an embrace. Porter felt his mind waver like a lit candle as the intense musk of the man assaulting him blew out the flame of his resolve. He fell limp in the man's arms as he was carried back into his own apartment, the door closing behind them. The dominant aura around Mr. Jacob's crushed any intention Porter might have of resisting whatever was coming next.

"You ain't gotta worry 'bout this, boy. Just been a minute since I last had me a pig in my building. Ya lived alone, and I saw a horny fucker deep in ya just waiting to get out and serve. I'm just here to let 'em out" Mr. Jacobs said as he set Porter down on a couch.

Porter couldn't help but breathe in deeply as Mr. Jacobs stripped his jeans and shoved his underwear covered junk right into Porter's face. Despite himself, he snorted some in the inhale and lightly moaned on the exhale. Porter had already been aroused from the porn he had been watching moments ago, but this flipped a switch in his head he didn't know was there. He began grunting and sniffing and snorting and licking the wrapped package in front of him.

Mr. Jacobs watched as his potent will reshaped the young man he shoved his dick toward. Porter bloated up from an average build to a nice and shapely hog, with a wide belly and round ass cheeks. Drowning in the wishes of a greater man than he would ever be, he lost over a foot of height, as Mr. Jacobs liked his pigs nice and easy to manhandle. As the repairman reached his meaty hand to press Porter's face deeper into his crotch, the full head of blond hair dissolved at his touch. In its place was a shaved, bald head. As if to make up for the loss, black body hair sprouted on Porter's arms, legs, back, belly, ass, and chest. A full black beard, thick particularly in the goatee, surrounded his mouth as he made out with the fabric covered dick and balls. With all of the changes, Porter now looked about the same age as the man standing over him, though much less imposing.

Mr. Jacobs pulled the pig off of him and took a nice long look at his handywork. Porter was unrecognizable, a hot little hog through and through, smiling up hungrily at the man who had accosted him moments ago. There was just one little thing he needed to check before breaking in the new pig.

"Stay on the couch and get on your knees, piggy!" Mr. Jacobs ordered, and the pig happily complied, offering his ass out to his visitor and looking out the window at the street down below.

Mr. Jacobs pulled down the pig's shorts and immediately reached out to grab his cock. Porter moaned as his genitals were fondled. Jacobs knew his pigs didn't need large hogs themselves, not while he was around, so he gently squeezed Porter's above average cock. It slowly compressed in size, any mass transferring to the balls. When he let go, Porter's cock was two and a half inches rock hard, adorned with a ballsack the size of a softball. Mr. Jacobs pulled away, but not before giving his pig a hearty slap on the ass. Porter moaned and squealed, in pain but mostly pleasure.

"There we go, now you are Papa's perfect piglet! What was your name again? Porker? Yeah, that's right, it was Porker, wasn't it?"

Porker moaned and nodded, his name rewritten in his head. He looked back at his Papa, his Sir. The now much larger repair man winked back as he pulled down his own underwear and lined up his cock between the pig's round hairy cheeks. Part of the magic Jacobs used to make his pigs ensured that they were always ready to take dick, so he had no issues as he slid into Porker's hole.

Papa Jacobs fucked his pig for well over an hour. Porker came at least twice, overwhelmed yet loving all of it. Each orgasm lasted a few minutes, nice and long like any proper hog. His sir deposited at least three large loads into his hole before departing, promising to be back tomorrow to actually fix his air conditioner and fuck his pig all over again. As Porker got back in bed, though his thoughts were now permanently much slower, he wondered what he was going to do about work, his family, his life. He lifted his arm to rub the back of his head in thought and he caught a whiff of his own hairy, sweaty pit. Though not as intense, it smelled exactly like his Papa's musk. His mind cleared and he quickly fell asleep smiling, knowing that Sir would help him take care of all of that later. He was just a dumb pig, after all.

Footage from the camera located inside said stall shows the fit, cleanshaven 35-year-old pick up a bar of soap containing stripes of black, white, and various shades of brown. Mr. Parsons looks at the bar confused, seeming to wonder why a nearly unused bar of soap had been left there. (Said bar has been taken and stored for evidence in this case. DNA testing shows use of the bar by at least 3 other men.) Mr. Parsons shrugs and begins to rub the soap in his hands, forming shimmering suds which he uses to clean his body.

As Mr. Parsons washes off the soap, an unholy transformation begins to occur. His hair thins as a thick ginger beard begins to cover his face. His stomach and limbs begin to bloat with fat as he increases in mass. Hair begins to coat his once smooth body. Expressions flicker on his face, first confusion, then a drop into a dumb smile, and finally pleasure. From this point on, the footage has been blurred as Mr. Parsons begins to self-polute himself.

As he moans and grunts from his sinful activity, a similarly large and hairy black man peeks into the stall. This man is as of yet unidentified, and is assumed to be another victim of this degenerate detergent, though the gym, due to Goldmeadow's demographics, does cater to a mostly white clientele. The two men exchange names and crass compliments before engaging in fornication with each other. The lengthy session has been cut from this record, picking up 20 minutes later as the unidentified subject deposits into Mr. Parsons. The two men continue talking as they dress and leave the gym.

Mr. Parsons was declared missing 2 weeks ago by his wife Catherine Parsons, and initial efforts to locate him used a now outdated description. Other recent missing person cases have been tied to this outbreak of spontaneous homosexuality via cleaning product, and a few have been found relocated to a neighborhood south of the downtown area. Attempts to contact these men has been as of yet unsuccessful for reasons which are classified.

A half hour passed, and Henry still hadn't gotten out of the shower. Jeremy was beginning to get a little frustrated with him, hearing him singing in there as the water kept running. The noise was a bit strange, however. Jeremy didn't remember Henry having a singing voice that deep.

In the shower, Henry was enjoying the warmth of the water. Each time he thought about getting out, the thought would quickly leave his mind, and he would just think about how lucky he was to have Jeremy as a friend. He was smart, kind, and dependable, a really good guy. Though Jeremy didn't talk about it much, Henry knew things had taken a very rocky turn with his parents after he came out. He just didn't get it. His parents ought to be proud to have a son like him!

As he continued to soak in the water, Henry began to gradually change in appearance. His body began to get thicker, his lithe arms and legs bulking up with fat. His belly bulged out as he absentmindedly rubbed it. His ass got thick and round, jiggling as he shifted around in the shower. Thick hair covered his chest and a beard flecked with gray grew out from his face. He began to look older as his voice gradually deepened.

After almost 45 minutes in the shower, Henry looked almost 30 years older and 100 pounds heavier. Despite the drastic changes, Henry never noticed that anything was different. That's just how he was, wasn't it? He was a man in his late 50s, after all, and quite handsome at that. He was still enjoying the warm water on his now older skin. The only thing that would make this shower even better was if he had a boy in there with him. Better yet, a son.

It had been an hour since Henry had gotten in the shower, and Jeremy knew he had to intervene. He knocked on the door and called out, "Hey man, you gotta get out! I still need to shower and then we gotta get going!"

The voice that responded was barely recognizable as Henry. The low booming voice responded, "Why don't you come in here and join me, boy? The water is perfect!"

Jeremy was startled by the response. Why was Henry deepening his voice like that? Was he trying to flirt with him? Jeremy blushed at the thought.

He had never been attracted to Henry and generally preferred older, hairier men. A newer hookup buddy of his, an older bear himself, had been over earlier that week and joked that Jeremy had "daddy issues". Jeremy denied the accusation, but his new friend was determined to show him how much of a good boy he could be for a daddy. Unbeknownst to Jeremy, this friend had certain abilities. Charms that could influence people, memories, even transform a person into someone else entirely. This bear witch had left a 'gift' of sorts in the bathroom, a spell that would activate whenever someone other than Jeremy, next used the shower, turning them into the kind of daddy he knew the cub deserved.

As Jeremy opened the door, and peeked in, Henry stopped the water and threw the shower curtain wide open. Jeremy yelped in shock as a big, hairy, older man looked at him, a warm yet hungry smile shining on his face.

"There's my handsome boy!" The man who sounded and looked a lot like Henry said to him. "Getting a good look at your old man, are ya? Come on in! Papa wants to clean ya up!"

Jeremy just looked at the much older Henry, unable to form a sentence. What the fuck was going on? He accidentally glanced down at his friend's cock, noticing how large it looked. Though he'd never seen Henry's penis before, it never seemed close in size to that monster. He quickly averted his gaze as the man got out of the shower and walked towards Jeremy.

"What's the matter, son? You look bothered by something. Here, let me get those clothes off of you!" Henry said, as he embraced his friend, though he increasingly believed that Jeremy was more than just a friend.

Jeremy began to get hard as Henry cupped his ass, pulling him in close. Henry had previously been about his height, but now was several inches taller than him. Jeremy let the sexy old man in his apartment take his pants and underwear off, a wave of submission overtaking his concerns. He knew he should be trying to figure out what was going on, but it just felt so good to give in.

Henry kissed the top of his boy's head, letting his own slightly hard dick brush up against Jeremy's more modest member. Despite the long time in the shower, he still had a pleasant, musky, masculine scent to him, and he felt a strong urge to cover the young man in it. To claim his boy. He slipped Jeremy's shirt off and led him back into the shower, starting the water back up.

Henry lathered up a loofah with soap, and began to scrub his boy down. He got into all the crevasses and covered the cub's body in suds. As Jeremy was scrubbed down, he subtly changed in appearance, gaining some of Henry's traits. His blond hair darkened to brown, and the light hair on his body darkened likewise. He lost a couple inches in height, putting Henry well over a head taller. Jeremy was already carrying a little weight on his bones, but he plumped up further, matching his daddy's rounder body. His own ass bubbled up like Henry's, though his dick seemed to not grow in size, looking even smaller than it had been due to the added weight. Though covered in soap, Jeremy now looked a lot like Henry's flesh and blood.

"Taking after your old man, I see? I was quite the handsome lad when I was your age, you know." Henry said, talking warmly to his boy as he swapped locations under the shower head. He then added with a wink, "And I'd say I got even hotter in my old age, don't you think?"

Jeremy just nodded as the water cascaded down his changed body. As the water wash away the soap, it also washed away the old memories, his old life. There were no other parents in some other city, who told him never to come home again. He was Henry's own son, and loved dearly by his daddy. History changed as Henry decided to move back in with his son a few months back, realizing that he wanted to be closer to him. One thing led to another, and soon, they were lovers as well, a daddy bear and his submissive cub.

Henry looked down at the adorable young man in his shower, and leaned in for a kiss. They made out under the water for a bit before he turned Jeremy around away from the water and grabbed a bottle of lube that had magicly appeared in the shower moments ago. As he worked it into the boy's hole, Jeremy moaned in excitement and pleasure. After a bit of warming up, Henry began to slide his own cock into his boy's ass, slowly at first, then more aggressively.

"Oh, daddy!" Jeremy cried out, overtaken in pleasure, "Fuck me!"

"Good boy!" Henry called back, wrapping his arms around his son's round belly, "Daddy's got you!"

He pumped, in a strong and primal rhythm. It wasn't long before Jeremy began to cum for the first time from anal stimulation alone, and the sensation of his shuddering caused his new father to cum into him as well. They both moaned loudly as the moment crescendoed, then began to slowly subside.

As Jeremy began to regain his composure, a flash of alarm crossed his mind. What was he doing?! With his best friend? His father?! Those worries were instantly dispelled, however when he looked back at that warm smile beaming down on him. This was just how things were. He had always been a daddy's boy, after all. They both laughed as Henry wiped him down for a second time. Suddenly, a new worry flashed across Jeremy's mind.

The next morning, Phil got up early, waking you up with the smell of breakfast. You went and sat down in the kitchen and just watched this man with his salt and pepper hair and delicious dadbod cook shirtless in front of you. You were more than pleased at this sight, and doubly so once he put a plate down in front of you. As you both sat down to eat breakfast, you realized just how hungry you were after such an active night. You listened to Phil talk about about philosophy and spirituality as you scarfed down the delicious food he had made.

When you finished, Phil picked up your plate and ruffled your hair with his other hand, saying, "There's a good boy! Glad you liked it! Why don't you hop in the shower quick while I finish cleaning up breakfast? I'll join you when I'm done."

He sent you off with a wink, directing you to the bathroom down the hall. As you passed by the stairwell, Georgie the Schnauzer whimpered down at you, looking pretty pathetic behind the gate. Though Georgie had been very loud last night, he didn't seem to be as worked up this morning. Maybe you could asked Phil to let him out once you were done in the shower? You did like dogs, after all.

As you got into the bathroom, you noticed a nice shower with a second nozzle attached. Likely for bathing Georgie or possibly for cleaning out if you swapped attachments first. As you removed your clothes, you felt something sticky in your hair. Phil must have accidentally left some syrup there when he ran his fingers through it earlier. You'd just have to clean it out once you got in the shower.

You opened the door and stepped into the shower, which will easily fit both you and Phil once he joined you. You started the water and once you find just the right temperature, you closed the door behind you. You soaked in the water for a bit before remembering your hair. You grabbed plain a bottle of shampoo and began to lather it up in your hands before putting it into your hair. It had a very light scent, smelling faintly of coconut, and it gently tingled your scalp and hands. As the suds dripped down your body, the tingling continued wherever the shampoo touched. As you rinsed the shampoo out of your hair and down your face, something felt odd about your hands. It was like they were numb or asleep. You got most of the soap out of your hair and face before opening your eyes to check your hands. What you saw caused you to yelp in surprise.

Your fingers were much shorter somehow, and the nails had darkened and extended into black claws. Your fingertips had grown, flattened, and taken on a rough, dark texture. Little white hairs were starting to grow all over both hands and your thumb was retreating down into just a nub. Your hands were starting to look exactly like the paws of a dog.

As you looked down at your body, you noticed white hair beginning to grow all across your body, with patches of brown hair growing almost out of sight along your back. Your legs began to feel a little unstable, like you had just gotten off of a roller coaster, so you put your hand-paws on the wall of the shower to maintain your balance. You reached up to you face to feel that it covered in more fur than just your light beard. Your realized that your mouth and nose were beginning to jut out from your face. Your nose in particular was taking up more real estate in your vision as it got darker and shinier.

Everything was changing so fast. You tried to call out for Phil, but it sounded more like 'Phaow' as a yip came out of your mouth. You put your paws up to your mouth in surprise, quickly losing balance as you tumbled to all fours. The shower was beginning to look much larger now, as it seemed as though your body was compacting in on itself. What was going on? You continued to call out, sounding more and more like the barks of a small dog. You unsuccessful tried to slide the door open as you heard the bathroom door open.

"Looks like my new pup got himself into a sticky situation! Don't worry, boy, your new owner will make sure you are nice and clean!" Phil's deep voice called out.

You knew something was deeply and awfully wrong, but something about that tone still calmed you down. You stopped pawing at the door as you saw the large shape behind the frosted glass move around as Phil took off his clothing. The door slid open as Phil towered over you, naked and glorious. As scared and confused as you were, Phil was still one sexy daddy.

"Look at you! Looks like you're going to be one cute Jack Russell terrier!" Phil kneeled down to look at you in the face, petting the top of your head. For some reason, you felt yourself lean into the touch. "Here, let's go back and get anywhere you might have missed. I brewed that dog shampoo to be scrubbed in everywhere, not just the top of your head."

Phil's presence and touch calmed you as he poured more of the shampoo you had just used onto your back, rubbing it into the quickly growing fur. You were horrified at what was happening. The hot man you had hooked up with last night was turning you into his dog! You tried to wriggle out of his grasp to escape, but Phil held you tight.

"Now now, boy! It's too late for that!" Phil spoke softly into your ear, which had flopped over and was now covered in brown fur. "Damn, you are becoming such a cute dog! I will miss that hot human body of yours, but I know you'll love being one of my good boys!"

As he held you and the soap seeped deeper into your skin, you began to relax a bit. Something began melting in your brain, like Phil was massaging your soul as he worked the soap across your small, furry body. Phil was reshaping both you and his relationship to you. You began to fall for your new owner harder than you had before. The sexual attraction you had felt slowly disappeared, but that feeling of submission to his domination only grew stronger. You felt like he would protect you, like he would love you, like he owned you.

Phil grabbed behind you, pulling on a nub that had just appeared behind your tailbone. As he did so, you felt a pleasant tug as a tail grew out behind you. You knew you should be trying to resist this change, but when he released it, you felt it wag back and forth behind you, betraying your true feelings.

"There, you are almost done!" Phil said, turning on the second nozzle to rinse you down. "Soon you'll just be my dog. No one is going to remember you as anything else, just like with that boyfriend of yours. You two really are cute together, you know. When I first saw you, I just knew I wanted you both as my new familiars."

'Boyfriend?' You thought to yourself. You didn't have a boyfriend, right? Your brain was slowing, becoming more and more like that of an actual dog, though parts of it remained intact. You continued to understand the speech of your owner, and likely other people. You could still remember your life as a human, though it seemed less and less important by the minute. As you thought back, you started to remember a face, one you had somehow forgotten. It was the face of a man. He was very scruffy with a big beard and unruly hair. You remembered him holding you, looking at you lovingly. From a memory in what seemed like another life, you realized you had forgotten someone very important to you. You couldn't remember their real name, but for some reason, you kept thinking about the name 'Georgie'.

Done rinsing you off, Phil turned off the water and quickly stepped out. You instinctually shook yourself as most of water flew off your little furry body. Phil wrapped a towel around you and picked you up in his arms. He felt so large and you felt so small as he turned you towards the bathroom mirror. There, in Phil's arms, you saw an adorable little Jack Russell Terrier, not a puppy but still quite young. You were unsure how to feel when you realized that was you, but your tail wagged under the towel regardless.

"Such a good boy!" Phil said, petting you softly, causing your tail to wag even harder. "Let's give you a new name, because you aren't going to remember the old one. I think you look like a 'Lucky'. What do you think?"

Though you still could hazily recall much of your old life, you realized that your own name was gone from your mind. 'Lucky' seemed like a fine name, doubly fine as it came from your favorite human. Phil held you for a bit longer to make sure you were nice and dry, before he took you out of bathroom. Phil was humming a tune as you were carried up the stairs and set down behind the gate at the top. You looked around, the halls looking much different from your new vantage point. You began to sniff at the air, when you smelled a strangely familiar scent. You heard the patter of another set of paws as a Schnauzer appeared from behind an open door. As you caught sight of each other, you both barked and excited ran towards each other.

You were overcome with emotions, a forgotten heartbreak, deep love, and confusing feelings of a sexual nature. Georgie was bigger and fuzzier than you, but you remembered that wasn't anything new. As you both sniffed at each other, you knew that even in a different forms with different names, this dog was your lover and partner.

Though not with words, Georgie managed to communicate with you. He tried to scare you away last night, not the same fate to befall you as it had him. Now that you were a dog like him, however, he was overjoyed to be with you again. You apologized for not remembering him after he went to have a casual hook up with the hot bear they had both been interested in for months. You had been a little jealous, but you just wanted your man to have a good time. Little did either of you know at the time that your new owner had something else in mind for the two of you.

Phil chuckled as he looked down at the two of you. He knew you were both going to be very helpful in his craft and he'd always wanted pets. In talking to other witches he'd learned that transfigured humans always made excellent familiars, and the bond was particularly strong if the familiar was already interested in you. When he found you two adorable saps falling over yourselves to sleep with him, Phil knew you would be just who he was looking for. He just needed to lure you in one at a time to make sure you were both alone when he bonded you so there wouldn't be any complications.

"Oh!" Tyson said with a start, "I must have the wrong apartment. I'm looking for a Nick Perry."

"Nah, you got the right place, bub." The man said, voice deep and warm. "I'm, uh..., his brother... John. Yeah, John. Nick went out to go grab something. He should be back soon. He said ya were coming over. Come on in!"

Tyson didn't know Nick had any siblings, but it's not like he talked about his own sister too often. Tyson could see the family resemblance, as John looked a lot like an older, taller, hairier Nick. Tyson followed the man into the apartment.

Tyson had been expecting a disaster, but the place looked clean and tidy. There was a slight smell of nicotine in the air, but not like that of a regular cigarette smoker. There were little changes to the apartment that made it seem less like a bachelor pad and more like that of a functional adult. The pin ups on the wall had been replaced with landscape paintings, the table was clear for once, and as he peeked into the kitchen, he saw that the dishes weren't stacked high waiting in vain to be clean. Was Nick finally getting his shit together?

"Hey, do ya wanna beer?" John asked, opening up the fridge.

"Yeah, sure. I'll take one." Tyson responded, still taking in the small changes since the last time he'd been over to Nick's to hang out.

John passed a cold can to him. The label said "Honey Bun" and it was made by Cave Brewery. Nick had always been a cheap beer guy, but Tyson liked a nice craft brew. Looked locally made too. He sat down on an old recliner before cracking it open to gave it a taste. It was a nice honey ale, not too sweet but not too bitter.

"Damn, this shit is good!" Tyson said, looking at John, "Did you buy this, because I know Nick wouldn't?"

"Yeah. I got it from a place in town. Tried it last week at a bar and it rocked my world." John said, following Tyson back into the living room. "Though, Nick seems to really like it as well. He's changed a lot since you last saw him."

"Yeah? What's been going on with him?" Tyson took another sip and it felt quite warm in his stomach despite being cold and crisp to the taste. "Today was the first I'd heard from him since his crash out last week."

"That's partly why I'm here. Showing Nick what it means to be a better person." John said, then he looked directly at Tyson, "I can show you what it means to be a real man too, Tyson."

Tyson stopped mid sip, startled by the change in tone. He looked up at the tall man who was now standing over him.

"What does that mean?" Tyson asked, recoiling from the man in front of him, though he was starting to feel a little hazy. His chair was just so comfortable.

"You should just finish that beer, bub. I'm looking forward to what comes next." John reached out and grabbed the half empty can. "Here, let me help you!"

Tyson found himself unwilling to resist as John slowly poured the beer down his throat. As strange and invasive as it felt, Tyson was surprised at how intimate it was, despite it being another man he was sharing the moment with. John was looking down at him, smiling, and Tyson maintained eye contact as he continued to swallow the frothy beverage. His stomach felt warmer and fuller, and his shirt started to feel tight on his body. After the last few drops entered Tyson's mouth, John set the empty can aside and leaned down to give Tyson a fuzzy kiss on the mouth. Tyson opened his eyes wide in surprise but didn't resist the man on top of him. Tyson knew he wasn't gay, but something felt right about the way he was being touched.

As he broke off the kiss, the large man smiled and said, "I think it's time to be honest with ya, bub. I don't have a brother. I'm actually just Nick. Good to see ya!"

Tyson's eyes were still in shock as he looked up at the man claiming to be his friend. There was a loud gurgling sound coming from his belly that interrupted his thoughts. He was very clearly swelling in his midsection, so much so that his belly could be seen through the strained buttons.

"Nick?" Tyson said, almost in a whimper. "What happened to you?"

"I got better, and you're gonna be better too! Here let me help you with that."

Nick began to undo the buttons on Tyson's shirt, revealing a rapidly growing belly on Tyson's smooth, previously quite fit, torso. Nick began to slowly rub Tyson's belly, and wherever he brushed, brown hair began to bloom. Tyson knew that this was wrong, and that he should get up and flee Nick's apartment, but he couldn't summon the willpower to get out of the cozy chair he was in. It just felt so nice to be touched by this man. As Nick brushed against one of his nipples, Tyson gave a small moan as a jolt of pleasure rippled through his body.

"Looks like these puppies are sensative!" Nick said excitedy as he pulled Tyson's hands up to each nipple. "Why don't ya tweak these for a bit while I finish ya up?"

Tyson just nodded as he lightly pinched the tips, causing more pleasure to flow through him. While his belly had grown first, his chest also began to thicken up along with his arms, as though the feedback from the circuit of pleasure was causing him to fatten up. Nick diverted attention away from Tyson's now quite hairy belly and chest, and cupped his friends lower face in his hands. He leaned in for a kiss as Tyson's face tingled. When Nick pulled away, a thick beard had grown over previously cleanshaven skin.

"Alright bub, yer looking like one hot bear. Let ol' Nick tell ya what happened." Nick said, stroking his furry cheek as Tyson looked up at him, needy as a puppy. "Last week, I went to a bar, feeling all down in the dumps. The bartender, right bear of a fella, asked me what was up and I told him about my troubles with girls and love. He said he'd fix me up, right as rain, all I needed was the right drink. He was right. Took me to the back, shaped me into a new man, and sent me on my way with a slap on the ass and a free six pack o' booze."

Nick slipped his pants and then underwear off, and then lifted up his shirt, exposing his own quite hairy belly.

"I've hit him up a few times, and he's a great bud and a good lay. I'll make sure to introduce ya to him, bub. He's gonna love ya." Nick bopped Tyson on the nose and ruffled his hair. "Unfortunately, we both wanna take that dominate role the sheets, so that's were you come in."

Tyson kept pinching and twisting his nipples, moaning loader as he stared at Nick's body and cock. He writhed in the chair, mind scrambled from waves of euphoria.

"Now, to make you into my new subby little bear. Get on your knees, boy!"

Tyson barely stopped touching his nipples, but sank to his knees in front of Nick's cock. Nick pressed down on Tyson's shoulders, and Tyson felt his body contract on itself. His torso, legs, and arms all lost length as they bulked up in weight even further. Additional bulk went into Tyson's ass, making it round and jiggly. When Nick was done pressing, Tyson was over a foot shorter, and perfectly positioned as Nick pushed his mouth onto the dick in front of him. Tyson began to bob on it as he kept playing with his titties.

"Since yer my new sub, how about ya give me half of yer dick size. It's not like you'll need it anymore, bub." Nick said, between his own moans and grunts. "Don't worry though. You'll know how to take my new size."

Tyson's above average dick began to retreat into him, stopping at around three to four inches in length. Meanwhile, the cock in his own mouth grew and grew, though he never felt the need to stop. Tyson felt small and weak under the large man, but something about that kept his stubby cock sprung to attention.

"Oh man, that mouth of yours is amazing, bub!" Nick was grunting louder, clearly moving towards release. "I'm sure that ass of yours is great as well. I wanna keep you around bub. How about I make you my new boyfriend? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Oh fuck! I'm gonna, I'm gonna..."

Jizz filled Tyson's mouth as Nick released into it. Tyson tweaked his own nipples harder in response, which caused his own much smaller eruption onto the carpet. After swallowing, he looked up at Nick, handsome dominant Nick, smiling down at him and knew he wanted to belong to him.

Coach Murphy knew he had to take matters into his own hands. He knew how to handle flamboyant know-it-alls. It had been over two decades since he'd been in his frat, but with his large frame and strong arms, he'd been the one to kick chubby nerds out of house parties. Mr. Jefferson just needed to be shown who the boss was at this school.

**********

Mr. Eric Jefferson was sitting at his desk when Assistant Coach J. Murphy barged into his office, not even knocking. Mr. Jefferson looked up from his lesson plan at the very tall, very irritated looking man.

"Coach Murphy, it's common courtesy to knock," Mr. Jefferson dryly, "Anything I can help you with?"

The coach stared at the chubby man with a scruffy beard and a piercing in his upper ear. Both men were in their early 40s, peers in age and position at the university. Mr. Jefferson actually thought the coach was very hot physically, but the clearly heterosexual coach had a wedding band on and there was plenty of gossip about how much of an asshole he could be, yelling awful things at his players after practice or games when they didn't meet his standards.

"Yeah, jackass, there is," the coach said, his anger causing the words to froth out of his lips. "I got a report that you have Fredrickson and Rivera marked as failing the class you teach. Surely there's been some kind of mistake. I'm here to clear things up and get my guys back on the field."

Coach Murphy took a step towards the desk, widening out his stance to appear threatening. He was trying to be threatening, so he was filled with confusion when the smaller, tubby professor just laughed at him.

"Those two? Listen, Mr. Murphy..." Professor Jefferson started but was cut off.

"That's Coach Murphy."

"*Coach* Murphy." Jefferson repeated, eyes rolling. "The grades I give out are the ones each student earns. Let's see here..."

The professor stood up, an average 5'10" but still a head shorter than the coach. He pushed past the taller man and opened a file cabinet and quickly pulled out two folders. He waved the coach to sit down at the chair in front of his desk and he reluctantly did so. Professor Jefferson went back to his desk and opened both folders. He didn't sit down, instead he leaned over the files, getting close to the coach.

"Here are the two student's files. As you can see here, the midterm is a large part of the grade, as is the final exam. Both of your boys bombed that midterm, and refused to do any of the three bonus assignments I've offered so far this semester. Fredrickson also has taken a hit in attendance with how many classes he has missed."

As the professor leaned in, Coach Murphy noticed the cologne the other man was wearing for the first time. It was spicy, woody, and musky, more masculine than the coach would assume from a man like this. He took in the grade breakdown as Jefferson leaned over him. It was clear that all of the numbers were in place. Coach Murphy did not care.

"Nah, I'm not buying it. You're failing my boys on purpose." The coach looked up at the professor, snarling. "A guy like you is jealous of studs like us. There's gotta be something fucked about that midterm."

Jefferson just laughed again. "That's an interesting story you are telling yourself there, coach. The only thing fucked is how little support our department gets. I haven't even been assigned a TA to help with grading for this class."

Coach Murphy was starting to feel a little lightheaded as the smell of Jefferson's cologne seemed to be intensifying somehow. Something was wrong. Why was he listening to this nerd's excuses?

"So, it sounds like you just made a mistake, Jefferson." Coach Murphy said, puffing himself up to try to regain some control of the situation. "Their midterm scores were actually good enough for them to avoid probation. I can even pull some strings to get you that TA. I've got a lot of pull with the board, you know. And they don't even need to know about you banging the last one."

Mr. Jefferson's sly smile faded. His last TA was a bright young man who he had helped get a recommendation for a program at another institution. While they were both openly gay, Jefferson kept clear boundaries between them both. Still, he was sure there were rumors.

"It sounds like you know the power of a good story, Assistant Coach Murphy. One that feels true, regardless of whether or not it actually is." Jefferson loomed over the larger but seated man. "Stories shape who we are, you know. The stories others tell about us. The stories we tell ourselves..."

Coach Murphy stood up and, in a voice that was both quiet and booming, hissed, "Shut up, you concieted gay-ass fucking weirdo. This is your last chance, will you change those grades or do I need to ruin your reputation?"

Jefferson looked up at the coach, like a cat looking at a mouse. He was ready to pounce.

"I guess you are right. I am fucking my TA. The young man didn't know what hit him. He fell head over heels for his older, more experienced professor." Jefferson was laying it on thick, spinning a web of a story to catch a buzzing fly. "And I, deciding to help the boy out and have a little fun for myself, played into it. It's a real fun time being his daddy, you see."

Coach Murphy looked down at the rambling man as they were almost face to face. He was unsure if he should push Jefferson away and just get out of there, or let the man further implicate himself. That smell, it kept getting stronger and stronger. And more intoxicating.

Jefferson continued, "You did get one detail wrong, though. I'm not talking about my last TA. I'm talking about my current one. He's in the room with me now. My boy's name is Jared. Jared Murphy."

Murphy felt himself dissociate, his consciousness almost pushed aside by the sheer force of Professor Jefferson's will. He immediately sat back down in the chair as he was mesmerized by the eyes of the man standing over him. He just wanted to hear the rest of the story. His story.

"Jared was a cute thing, plump and hairy like any good cub. At 24, he was done growing, just barely hitting five feet tall."

The coach shifted in front of Jefferson, getting smaller and softer. His athletic clothes shifted to fit his smaller size, but his ballooning belly peeked out of the bottom of his polo. The man's wrinkles smoothed as anger was replaced with confusion.

"What the hell are you doing to me? This isn't me!" Murphy said as his voice got higher and cracked a little.

"But it is, my little Jarebear." Professor Jefferson said, voice softening yet still firm. "You're a smart guy, but you can't help but act like a dumb cub around your daddy."

"I...I...yes sir..." Murphy said, his will faltering. The smell was too much. He wanted it on him. He wanted it in him.

Professor Jefferson ruffled the cub's hair and stood up tall. He stepped away a couple of feet before pulling down his pants and showing the young Jared his own big bear ass.

"Well cub, I think you have a lot of work to do."

Jared got down on his knees, ready for some fun with his hot Daddy Professor before they got back to grading.

**********

Two months later....

Jared woke up in a bed that wasn't his. It had been a couple years since he'd been in the dorms. At least, he was pretty sure that was the case. He'd spent the night with his new boyfriend, a student from the class he was a TA for. After a few one on one office hour visits, it turned out that Luis Rivera, a senior underclassman on the football team, was bisexual and facied short and chubby Jared Murphy. Jared asked his daddy if it was ok to date a student, but Eric just laughed and told him he had no room to talk when it came to blurring those lines. The professor just advised them to keep their activities under wraps until after Luis passed the class, which was almost guaranteed after getting so much help.

Jared looked over at the still sleeping Luis, giving him a kiss on the forehead before taking a picture to send to his daddy. That old perv sent him a dick pic back with the caption, 'I got some work for you when you come into work today'. Jared sent another picture of himelf and his ass, captioned, 'On it sir!' It wasn't always easy dating two people, but Jared loved all the time he got with his boyfriend and with his daddy.

He felt like he used to be a much more angry and controlling person before Mr. Jefferson stepped into his life. Jared poked that bear, and that bear made him into his cub. Jared wanted nothing more that to be that older man's obedient little slut. After all, Mr. Jefferson was the boss!