flyinglikeadragon

Nicky emerges with an arcane artifact after a bewildering trip through an impossible shop. In wishing his boyfriend was more confident in himself Nicky performs irrevocable and accidental magic upon the world, building his new form and dulling his mind.

And I'm back! Here's the first story of my planned CYOA series, a little long but I love how it turned out! I'll be posting the poll for Part two on Sunday, the 1st of December, the planned options are at the end of the story and it'll only last a day so if you want to take part be on the lookout! At any rate, hope you enjoy and happy to write for you once more! -Occam

It was barbarian weekend at the renaissance festival. Nicky was dressed as a wizard and his boyfriend, Simon, had long planned to go on theme and dress as a barbarian. Though as the day neared and Simon anxiously stared at his decidedly standard figure in the mirror, he instead opted to just throw on a cloak and call it a day. Arriving at the fair the pair, as expected of the theme, find themselves surrounded by burly men clad in kilts with faux fur draped atop chests beyond impressive.

Gawking at hot men is of course par for the course of this kinda event but Nicky can’t help but read the shame and embarrassment creeping into Simon’s expression as he takes in the festivities. When they eventually step into a tavern for a breather Nicky checks in, “Heyyy babe? Everything good? Seem kinda down-” Simon shakes his head and forces a smile, “Don’t worry about me B, I’m aces!” He tosses a wink out for good measure before pointedly changing the topic, “So what was it you said you’re looking to grab this year?”

Nicky narrows his eyes for half a moment wondering if he should push or challenge his clearly sulking boyfriend before deciding to let the sleeping dog lie for now, “Mmmm, I don’t know actually? Probably just an accessory for the costume? Oh! Or maybe some dice?” Simon’s expression changes into a more genuine smile as he grabs at Nicky’s arm and massages it, “Well here’s an idea. We’re right by the dice shop yeah? Howsabout we split up. I’ll grab us some beers and you go check out the offerings. Meet back here?” 

Wordlessly agreeing, Nicky leans in for a kiss and relaxes at Simon seemingly perking up. Heading off with a nod, Nicky exits the tavern, preventing him from seeing his boyfriend’s facade fade once more as he contemplates getting a drink or two ahead of his partner before his return from the shops. 

Under the impression that Simon has cheered back up, Nick is off to the races. Dice shop just across the way he begins his short trek when suddenly there’s a buzzing in the back of his mind. The sounds of the crowd around him eerily fade as if his ears are waterlogged, he shakes his head from the sudden discomfort and takes a moment to see if anyone else seems to be affected. Before he’s able to inspect his fellow festival-goers he is shocked to see a strange shop he’s never seen before.

Your alarm clock is ringing early today… Why did you actually set an alarm clock? And where are you here? Shit, you need to sort out your thoughts a bit… You're in Egypt. In your home country. Okay, actually your home was in Cairo. But now you're here in Soma Bay. Wait, wait, wait! Somehow that doesn't feel right… Shouldn't you actually be…? Shit, the second alarm goes off. You've got to get going!

The sun rises early over the turquoise waters of the Red Sea. Even before the hustle and bustle of the resort begins, life is stirring here in the staff dormitory. You start with a set of push-ups and sit-ups. Who knows who you'll bump into in the shower. It's never a bad idea to get your muscles in shape. A quick look in the mirror. Yes, you're hot. Your semi-rigid, circumcised cock confirms it. The day starts with a quick but intense shower in the shared bathroom of the dormitory - strictly separated by gender, of course. You are still alone. But you hear footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Your cock straightens in anticipation. You are not disappointed. Mamdouh comes around the corner with a grin. Today it's not just a lonely wank in the shower, today the day starts with a good honest fuck in the shower.

As you and Mamdouh leave the shower together, a few colleagues are already waiting outside the door, grinning. Most of them show that they have at least been eavesdropping. Some cocks are hard. But no time for a second round. Now it's even too late for breakfast. You throw on your immaculately fitting sportswear, smooth out your polo shirt and make your way to the resort. The first guests are already waiting for their first aqua gym session - with a view of the sea while a light breeze caresses the sand.

Your clients are wealthy, mostly Europeans, sometimes women, but mostly men - all with a penchant for luxury and “exotic” experiences. Mamdouh is more responsible for the ladies. He does this yoga and Pilates crap. You're more into Crossfit and bodybuilding. Your training is a mixture of rigor and charm, always looking to test your limits - physically and mentally. When you correct postures, your hands glide over sweaty backs, firm and firm. You can tell when a customer wants you to offer additional services. But you don't like doing that in a hotel. It's too dangerous. You then like to suggest an excursion… You prefer to take your customers to the bazaar - “to show them the real Egypt”. They are then wonderfully at your mercy. You are the strong local who skillfully guides your foreign friends through the winding alleyways, negotiates with the traders, helps them choose spices and silk scarves. The atmosphere is seductive - the scent of cardamom and jasmine, the soft murmur of the market people, the feeling of being in another world. Your customer pretends to want to buy a kaftan. As a present for his son. He would be about your size. Can you try it on? Sure, you say. And take off your T-shirt. The look on your customer's face says it all. He's ready for the highlight of the trip…

And the highlight is already waiting: a visit to his cousin's hammam. Here, in the subdued warmth, the two of you undress. You've already seen him naked during the massage at the spa. Good body, nice cock. Not circumcised, of course. But already hard. You put his loincloth on first and then put yours on. Yours is tailor-made. Just long enough so that you can see a hint of your glans even when flaccid. Your customer is so hard! You press your body against his and give him a deep French kiss. And then you lead him into the steam room. In the steam room, the boundaries between relaxation and desire become blurred. Your client is always in the exciting fear that you might be disturbed. But you know that the only one who will disturb you will be your cousin. And then your client will be pampered by two Egyptian stallions.

The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate.  We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him.  Him and I were basically complete opposites.  While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways.  He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead.  We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass.  His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place.  As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room.  He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad.  Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance.  And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude.  We were just having a good time.”  Yeah, a good time at my expense.  Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.

I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night.  I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday.  I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast.  I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.

“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?”  Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.

“Uhh, yeah.  How did you know?”  I responded.

“Oh don’t worry about it, bro.  Happy birthday!”  I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me.  I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door.  He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in.  “I’ve been saving this for you.  I hope you like it!”  Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?

I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy.  He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something.  Not that I work out or anything.  The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche.  I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw.  It was a video game.  Not any that I’d ever heard of.  I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.

“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you.  I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”

“Niche?”  I responded.  I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing.  As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.

“That’s the word!  I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing.  I’m happy with what I have right now.  I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, dude.  Anyways, I gotta hit the gym.  I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself.  Hope you enjoy it bro!”

I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet.  As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.

“Become a new you!  In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose.  Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”

The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system.  It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem.  The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle.  I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free.  Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.

I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up.  The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music.  I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen.  I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account.  I knew I should’ve put a password on it.  I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made.  Knowing him, I can only guess.  His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.

I started his save and my character was sitting in his room.  At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room.  I guess the character starts by moving into their new home?  I went into the menu to find more information about the character.  The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too.  I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.

“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats.  You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats.  If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue.  This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue.  As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at.  Experiment and see who you become!”

I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level.  The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck.  Not too far off from DnD I guess.  It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue.  Gee, why am I not surprised…  Cody was anything but a genius.  It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5.  And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian.  It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.

Strength (physical strength): 5

Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5

Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2

Intelligence (knowledge): 0

Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0

Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3

Charisma (social skills): 3

Luck (good or bad fortune): 2

After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game.  I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen.  I was back on the save select screen when I became confused.  There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine?  The play time was set to 0 minutes.  I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.

To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there.  Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default.  Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later.  I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city.  I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar.  On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym.  It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym.  I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole.  Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.

I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events.  First, I had to do some bench presses.  Then some squats.  Then finally, run on a treadmill.  At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms.  A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym.  So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default.  That should’ve been the first thing I checked.  I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute.  I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode.  Honestly, I was open to the challenge.

I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed.  When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read.  I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels.  I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best.  I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face.  Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop.  I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!

“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease!  These stats can even go into the negative.  Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”

I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read.  This guy was nothing like me at all!  I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron.  I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream.  Another tutorial popped up.

“Sometimes your character will have dreams!  These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats.  Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”

I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening.  I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1.  My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.

The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school.  That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him.  He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes.  Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring.  This was honestly getting embarrassing.  My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2.  If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself.  After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.

Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong.  Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team.  Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good.  Wanna join, bro?

You know who else played football?  Cody.  I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around.  This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option.  To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead.  It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point.  Two tutorials popped up.

“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command.  This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not.  Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”

“You have decided to join a club or organization.  This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”

I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks.  A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes.  For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.

I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable.  He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good.  It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not.  By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.

Strength: 30

Constitution: 28

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: -20

Wisdom: -15

Courage: 21

Charisma: 17

Luck: 16

My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable.  My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed.  I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character.  Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices.  It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path.  I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats.  Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.

Strength: 75

Constitution: 69

Dexterity: 44

Intelligence: -66

Wisdom: -49

Courage: 54

Charisma: 37

Luck: 41

I received another tutorial message on Day 31.

“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon!  By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place.  That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”

I figured I might as well see this through to the end.  You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become.  Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities.  His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom.  I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60.  Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.

“Congratulations on making it this far.  I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am!  Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”

I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them.  The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.

Strength: 100

I’d give this an A+.  I’m not even sure if you are human anymore.  I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to.  You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.

Constitution: 100

You also get an A+.  Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron.  You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.

Dexterity: 75

This gets a B.  You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance.  However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.

Intelligence: -100

I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F.  Are you even trying?  I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull.  You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.

Wisdom: -90

Likewise, you also get another big fat F.  Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium?  You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires.  In short, you often act before you think.  Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells.  As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?

Courage: 90

I’d give this an A, but not an A+.  Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act.  You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts.  When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off.  On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.

Charisma: 70

I’d give this a B-.  Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial.  I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.

Luck: 80

Lastly, you get a B.  Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes.  Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life.  This alone proves that life favors some over others.  If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.

“What do you think?  Are you happy with your results?  Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype.  It’s who you are and who you will be from now on!  Drumroll please…  (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…)  You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”

The Jock

You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought.  You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else.  You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical.  However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome.  You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself.  Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between.  Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation.  Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness.  Enjoy your new self!

I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build.  He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face.  The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show.  Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong.  It sounded like everything Cody was, not me.  Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life.  I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day.  Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me.  I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.

“Are you satisfied with your result?  Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world?  WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result.  These changes are permanent.  If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”

I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text.  What the hell was I thinking?!  I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life.  At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black.  Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.

I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons.  I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background.  But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below.  My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4.  My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight.  The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs.  My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs.  Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting.  I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more.  My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.

I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain.  As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde.  My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue.  My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline.  The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble.  Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around.  I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent.  I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug.  I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good…  Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk.  Was I…enjoying this?  Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was.  And it kept growing and growing and growing…

All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation.  Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo.  What the hell is this game?  I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good.  The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling.  That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head.  I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro?  If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit.  I had to admit, it was kinda addicting.  I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home.  Wait, what was that?  I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own.  Eventually he called out directly to me.

“Hey bro, it’s me.  Your AlterEgo.  You know, the real you.  It’s been fun, dude.  Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick?  So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude.  I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be.  That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind.  Don’t try to struggle or fight back.  You know I’m stronger than you.  There’s no going back.  So, are you ready to become one with your true self?

No…I thought to myself.  I wasn’t a jock.  I was never a jock.  I’m nothing like my AlterEgo.  This is a mistake.  This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!

“Chill out, bro.  I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk.  Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made?  Because you are one deep down.  Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one.  Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side.  Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen...  Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude.  I know you can feel me taking over your mind.  You’re finding it harder to think.  Soon you’ll be The Jock, me.  I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”

I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over.  I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards.  An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image.  But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could.  However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock.  The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me.  Until that’s all I was.

Everything turned black for a few seconds.  I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself.  Wait…what’s a reboot?  I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended.  I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted.  This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole.  I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.

“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”

“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it.  It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes.  Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it.  If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”

I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say.  Who has time for that anyways?  But I did find one reply that caught my eye.

“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist.  My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me.  It’s like he was addicted.  A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him.  His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self.  I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted.  I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore.  He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it.  No matter what, he won’t tell me.  If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”

Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude.  Wasn’t just me.  I just played it right?  But I don’t feel any different.  You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game.  Maybe they might come out as different people.  I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price.  One of those dweebs just has to take the bait.  I wouldn’t mind a little cash though.  I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.

“Hey bro, you still in here dude?”  I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.

“Yo Cody, there you are.  What’s up dude?”  I was happy to see him.  Cody was my roommate and my best friend.  We were practically inseparable.  When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened.  I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.

“You beat that game I gave you already?”  He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.

“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”

“Do you…feel any different, bro?”  Cody sounded kinda hesitant there.  Had he read about the rumors too?  I don’t see why he’d have to worry.  None of those rumors are true anyways.

“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”

“Alright, good.  I was just making sure you were down to get some food.  You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game.  And trust me, I know all the good spots.”

“You’re right bro.  I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today.  Let’s go.”

“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude.  You should change.”

“Oh shit, good idea.”

“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes.  They’d probably fit you better.”  He was right.  As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.

Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game.  If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros.  Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal.  I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro.  On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away.  I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before.  And besides, today was basically my cheat day.

We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him.  I couldn’t help it though.  I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday.  Quite frankly, I deserved it.  Thankfully Cody took one for the team.  He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret.  I had to give him credit.  His tight hole is better than most girls’.  I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight.  I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining.  After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro.  This was the best birthday ever.

The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover.  Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention.  It was like my mind was in a constant fog.  My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely.  After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice.  Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo?  That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before.  I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from.  I shrugged it off.  I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.

When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me.  You know, AlterEgo.  Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it.  I didn’t actually know it was that rare.  I hope he enjoys it more than I did.  I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars.  I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends.  I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…

Alpha Burst

Well you already sound pretty dumb, so we’re basically half way there. Being an alpha though, that’s a bit more tricky. You either are one, or you’re not. Not to worry though, I have a solution. There’s this new vape flavour, ‘Alpha Burst’ that’s currently doing the rounds, apparently it drastically heightens the user’s cockiness. Sure, there are - unsubstantiated I might add, reports that it ‘kills brain cells’. But what’s a little dimming in favour of being full of yourself and fit as fuck? An appropriate trade-off, no?

Here, take a little hit. Just one. Yeah, feels good doesn’t it? Let it go straight to your head, filling it up with smoke. Clouding your thoughts. You’re probably already struggling to think clearly. Take another hit. Just one more. Nice init? The smoke flushing your head of needless shit, expelling it out your nose and into the air. Disintegrating into nothingness. Don’t you look so much harder, more manly? That’s it, relax your back. Let that hand wonder down your trousers. Make sure people know what you are. Exude that alpha chav energy.

Take. Another. Hit.

That strength, that power, it’s addicting. And every puff you take, takes a little more away from your head. And every thought gone makes you feel so much better. You try and hold back but another huge plume flows out of your lips. So what if you willingly flush every moment of higher education from that vacuous thing you call your brain. So what if words become a struggle to read. So what if every learned skill fades into the smoky haze. So fucking what.

Every part of you will soon match the growing smirk on your face. The piles of Nike fleeces, the TN trainers. The cheap Lynx body spray radiating from your body. The basic ass haircut that you confidently watch get buzzed into your skull. The two syllable words that leave your open mouth.

You’re better like this: dumb and confident. The embodiment of ‘crude chav.’ You enjoy people viewing you like that. You enjoy them giving you side eyes and crossing the street to avoid you. It only validates your ALPHA presence. Another hit and another. You no longer even have to consider it, forgetting how many it’s been now. Surround yourself in that intoxicating, mind sapping mist. The vape is part of your dwindling identity, essentially glued to your hand wherever you go. A cloud following behind you. Swaggering as if you own the ground beneath you.

Who needs a job, you ‘think’. People should happily pay you for your mere existence. Pay you so you can buy more of your favourite vape flavour. It doesn’t take long until you set up a new social media profile. ‘Alpha Chav Cashmaster’. As if there weren’t enough thickheaded dolts littering the internet. ‘Open u wallet n get in my dms’ you post, like you weren’t the tenth findom lad to say the same today. Telling them ‘y not send nother’ as you take just ‘one more’ hit from the vape.

Draining subs makes you feel oh so superior. Every send makes your cock stiffen, eyes roll. Makes you forget your intelligence is on par with a zoo animal. Even if that’s what your ‘paypigs’ like about you. Your most appealing quality. Giving you cash to see you struggle to string together a sentence in response.

The fact that you’re essentially a paid service to help get others off, as you publicly debase yourself is rather lost on you. After all, you’re just a brainless Chav Alpha. You quite literally advertise yourself as such. It’s all you’ll ever be. All you want to be.

~

Hey, you still listening? What do you think of the flavour then? 10 boxes? Good lad. And there, you’re done. Another naive dummy to add to my vape client list. Here, take some free vape pens. Just make sure to pass them onto a ‘mate’. Like you, they’ll soon be wanking themselves stupid at the thought of draining a sub’s bank account dry.

Jake was a skinny nerd, overlooked by everyone. One night, he wished to be seen. I gave him exactly what he wanted. But with every gift, comes a price. I only took a couple IQ points. 86 is a perfectly healthy IQ score! And hey, at least he’s not overlooked anymore.

You were tired of living a life where your inner self failed miserably to match what you wanted to look like. Growing up, you always wanted to be a big, studly, masculine bear of a man. Sadly, genetics didn’t cooperate. You tired seeing a personal trainer to bulk up, but all you did was develop some minor lean muscle and lose what fat and padding you had. You tried bulking shake after bulking shake, but your metabolism simply outpaced whatever you ate. You tried to quit shaving, and even uses some chemicals and supplements to encourage facial and body hair growth, but it came in patchy at best.

You had all but given up on reaching your ideal image of a man when you saw this ad when you were browsing some hot bear-on-bear porn. The pop up ad advertised a way to “unleash the ideal you”, and showed a before and after of an average looking college aged guy next to a bear version of the same guy. You thought it almost certainly would be a hoax, or some sort of minor change, but you decided to check it out on a whim. It ended up being some sort of specialized jockstrap. Small magnets in the elastic supposedly realigned your body or something, and it would allow you to become your ideal you. You dismissed it as garbage, the same crappy pseudoscience you had tried before, but for some reason you couldn’t make yourself exit the page.

You sighed, and looked at the reviews. There were a lot of before and after pics. They all actually looked like decent mock-ups too. There were about four dozen pics of guys in just a jock on the left, and pictures of their new bear bods on the right. All the details matched too. Hair color, facial structure, even the tattoos on two customers matched. Maybe this might be something worth while. When you got to the checkout page, you were surprised to find it was only $25.00. Even if it was just trash, the boner you got from the thought of all these guys turning into bears was worth that price, so you ordered the ‘strap and went to beat off to the customer review images.

The jock arrived three weeks later. You had all but forgotten about it, and it came just in time for a trip to the mountains with your buddies for some skiing. You opened the small package, and found the simple white jockstrap and the instructions. Apparently you had to wear it for a continuous 24 hours for the effect to occur, and for its patented magnets and sensors to realign your chakras or something. You were going to try it later, but you decided to slip it on now. It would be funny to start changing on your trip, and you could play the change off as some sort of guy thing if by some miracle it actually worked. After pulling it onto your smooth frame, you snapped a before pic for the website. There was a mention of a money back guarantee, minus shipping and handling, so if it was a flop at least you could get some cash back.

The car ride up was uneventful. It was you and three of your best friends in an SUV for a 6-hour trip. You had to readjust your crotch frequently through the trip, as it turned out the jockstrap was not the most comfortable pair of underwear you never worn. By the time you got up to the small cabin the four if you were renting, you could not wait to get to the bathroom and readjust. When you went to check yourself out in the mirror, you were in for a shock. The area right around the jockstrap was thoroughly coated with dark colored hair. It seemed that your pubes had to come in rather thickly, and were growing outwards from the jock. Already you could see a large coating of hair enveloping your ass, the upper parts of your calves, and making its way up your belly. You noticed that your butt seemed to stick out more, and when you grabbed your cheeks, you felt a great deal more mass. It was not just fat either, there was definite muscle tone on your booty now.

While those changes were astounding, even more surprising was what was filling out the pouch of the jockstrap. Before the change, having a nice somewhat narrow seven-incher, but you would be struggling to measure anything less than nine inches now. Your dick had grown thicker as well, and the lightest touches caused it to firm up and begin drooling precum. As your dick moved, you couldn’t help but feel your balls were enhanced as well. While you could not see them, as the ‘strap was in the way, you could only imagine the pair of fat low hangers that would be nestled beneath your dick, constrained and held in place by the mesh of the jockstrap.

It had been just barely eight hours, and already the change was so noticeable that you felt your heart rate increase as you scoped yourself out in the mirror. You began adjust the strap, preparing to take some pictures with your phone, when you recoiled when you saw the hair start to recede, and your ass start to deflate. The label did say you had to wear it for a continuous 24 hours, but it looks like you wouldn’t be able to adjust much at all. You had about enough time to quickly pop your dick out and take a piss, but anything more than that seemed to start to revert to the transformation. You dressed quickly and rejoined your buddies, hoping they wouldn’t notice your nervous energy or thicker rear.

The evening, while fun, was not terribly eventful. You all cooked dinner, play cards and drink beers, and went to bed around midnight. You were struggling towards the end of dinner, since you could tell your stomach was definitely starting to grow bigger. Your new gut was coming along quite nicely, and you knew that dinner had barely taking the edge off of the newfound hunger you possessed. You ended up sneaking into the kitchen once everyone else was asleep and gorging yourself on beef jerky and chips until you finally felt satisfied. A quick look in the mirror show that the hair had to come all the way up to your sternum, and that your new belly now was easily twice the size it was before. It was a little softer than a muscle gut, certainly more gut the muscle, but you can feel the firmness under the fat. Your new quads were incredibly thick, and were starting to stretch out your jeans. You switched into a large comfy pair of pajama pants and a hoodie to sleep in, knowing that by the time you woke up, your new body would be almost complete.

Instead of being aroused by your alarm clock, you were surprised to be woken up by a loud snapping sound. Groggy, you checked your phone to find you had turned off your alarm in your sleep, and it was almost eleven. You searched around for the thing that caused the noise you heard, and it wasn’t until you begin examining yourself that you realized it was the sound of elastic breaking. You pulled down your pajama pants, a task that was much harder to do now, and looks down with chagrin as he saw your jockstrap now lay in tatters. As much as you wanted to be upset, you noticed the changes were not reverting. Putting two and two together, you realized it was exactly 24 hours since you first slid the ‘strap on. You bolted out of bed, impossibly eager to see what transformation the night had brought.

You rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in, closing your eyes as you turned on the lights, waiting to see the new you. As you looked in the mirror, it was everything you had wanted and more. You were about two inches shorter than before, standing at a proud five-foot-nine now. You also were surprised to find that you looked a little older, with a little bit of gray in your hair. But that paled in comparison to the fact that you had a thick and full beard. It hugged the rugged contours of your face, emphasizing your overt masculinity now, showing off the strong jaw and confident smile you now possessed. You eagerly pulled off your hoodie and pajama pants and stood in front of the mirror naked. A grin split your face as you now had trouble seeing your skin under all the fur. While there was a clear delineation between beard and fur, from your collarbone down it look like you were wearing a second shirt made out of black body hair. It completely coated your pecs and your gut, thickest at your groin and at your armpits, but it reached all the way from the tops of your feet around to your back and upper arms. While you were apprehensive about having a hairy back and biceps, it looked so evenly spaced that you knew you would not mind.

Your body had continued to pile on weight while you slept, a sexy mixture of fat and muscle that showed off the strength of your large arms and legs while also demonstrating the fact that you certainly were not cutting calories. A comfortable layer of pudge coated the muscles, and you knew instinctively that plenty of people would love the fact that you could be described as cuddly now. You your cock and balls looked about the same, maybe a little bit larger, but you were not able to tell. The biggest remaining change was in your ass. It seems like someone has shoved an air hose between your cheeks and pumped until it could not grow any bigger. Two large wobbling mounds of hair-covered flesh stuck out from your previous flat ass, and you couldn’t help but play with them. You groped and grabbed and slapped your own rump, slowly getting turned on with how large it was and how much it jiggled.

Between your new endowments and your new ass, you knew you would have no problem finding someone who was physically interested in sleeping with you. The most noticeable change of all though was a sense of relaxation and peace. While you were far sexier than you ever hoped to dream, the fact that you now felt like your view of yourself matched what other people would see was an incredibly good feeling. You love the fur, the size, and the enhanced aura of masculinity about yourself. You carried yourself with better posture now, not only because your new body was more equipped for it, but because you felt more confident and empowered. As you got changed to go skiing, you knew that even if you might lack the skills and abilities, with your newfound body, you would give it your all. As you finished zipping up your jacket and headed outside, you briefly wondered what your friends might think of you. That thought was quickly tossed away as you smiled, realizing you didn’t care what they would think. It might be a shock, but you loved the new you and we’re not at all afraid to show off your new bear body.

It starts in his school's chess club: your brother actually puts a "dude", "bro" or "fuck" in every single sentence. The other members are irritated at first. And relatively quickly annoyed. Because your brother comments on everything and everyone in a completely unqualified way. BRRRRRRRRRRP! "Hehehe, protein fart! That was really good!" Damn, it smells like your brother is rotting from the inside. The other chess players leave the room in a hurry. Your brother looks at his game, which is already hopelessly lost after ten moves, scratches his growing sack, breathes in the stinky air, grins, burps again and then throws the chessboard around. "What losers!" he says and leaves.

After a few steps, everything becomes a blur. He takes off his glasses. Things are better now. Where did this ugly thing come from anyway? He must have taken it off one of the nerds' noses. He throws the glasses in the nearest garbage can. Shit, he's hungry now. Really hungry. There should still be protein bars in his locker. Damn, the door won't open again. Your brother throws himself against the door with all his weight. Okay, it's open now. And quite bent. Shit, he's just got too much strength.

Phew, it stinks of old sweat! The locker is covered in pictures of the football team, sports certificates and classwork marked with a bright red F. He doesn't care. Either he gets a football scholarship. Or he becomes a digger driver. They're real guys. One of the teachers comes up to him and asks your brother if he's already off or if he's still on duty. "Professor-Bruh, I'm always on duty," grins your brother. Then he might want to have a look at the drain in the teacher's toilet. After he's cleaned out the quarterback's demolished locker. Your brother puts his hand to his temple, yells "Aye, Bruh" and heads off. Damn crammers! His shift as janitor is actually long over. But he's sure to get a clogged shithouse fixed quickly.

Finally out of the janitor's overalls! A bit of a workout with the guys from the football team at the gym. And let's see, maybe he'll find something to fuck after the workout. Your brother is a simple soul… Work, make his muscles burn, eat, sleep. And occasionally fuck. That's all he needs. But that's all an airhead like him can expect.

The Barbershop: Chav

It was a typical Saturday afternoon when I decided to step into the barber shop. The place had a certain rough charm to it, and I spotted a burly man with a thick, muscular build and a bald head.

"Alright mate, what can I do for ya?" he gruffly asked, as he motioned for me to take a seat in the worn-out black chair.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. But before I could say anything, he continued, "Ya look like a fancy lad. Let's sort that out, shall we?"

As he started running the clippers through my perfectly styled hair, his voice took on a hypnotic quality. It was deep and commanding, and each word seemed to resonate within me.

"Ya don't need all this fancy stuff, mate. Real men, they keep things simple. A nice, clean buzzcut is all ya need," he said, as the clippers mercilessly sheared off my once-glorious locks.

I could feel the sharp sensation of the clippers against my head, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming aroma of cheap cologne and the musky scent of the barber's own sweat.

"Real men, they've got some muscle on 'em. Ya need to hit the gym, mate. Get that body tight and strong," he said, his voice dripping with authority.

Every buzz of the clippers seemed to drill his words deeper into my mind, erasing any thoughts of resistance. I could feel the weight of my own body, each muscle defined and bulging with raw power.

"None of that fancy-schmancy clothing either. Tracksuits and trainers, that's the way to go. Comfort over style, mate," he said, as he stripped me of my designer clothes, leaving me in nothing but a plain white t-shirt and a pair of worn-out trainers.

The sticky heat of the shop combined with the manly musk of the barber's body was overwhelming, but strangely arousing. I could taste the salty sweat on my lips as I hungrily licked them, my body instinctively drawn to his rugged masculinity.

"And of course, no fancy words. It's all about swagger and attitude, mate. The boldness of a true chav," he said, his voice filled with confidence.

As he finished the buzzcut, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Gone were the refined features and the sophisticated charm. In their place was a rugged, cocky chav. Shaved head, ripped physique, and a smug grin that screamed arrogance.

I could feel the changes taking hold, the chav persona becoming my reality. The taste of sweat and the smell of musk were all-consuming, their primal allure impossible to resist.

Once he was done, the barber stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "There ya go, mate. A proper chav, just like I promised." He smirked, running a hand through his own thick hair. "Now, why don't we celebrate your transformation properly?" He grabbed me roughly, pressing his lips against mine in a rough, passionate kiss. The taste of his beer-soaked breath, the feeling of his strong, calloused hands all over my body - it was intoxicating.

He pushed me down onto the barber chair, his rough, dominant nature overpowering me. "Gonna fuck ya proper, lad," he growled, his thick cock sliding into me with ease. Every thrust was powerful, primal, as he claimed me as his own. "Ya love it, don't ya? Being nothing but a dirty fucktoy for a real man like me." I could only moan in response, completely lost in the intense pleasure he was giving me.

When he finally came, it was with a loud, primal groan. His hot cum filled me up, marking me as his. "There ya go, mate," he said with a satisfied smirk, pulling out and watching his cum drip out of me. "Good little fuckhole, aren't ya?" I knew then that my transformation was complete. I was nothing but a chav lad now, a sex toy for rough, dominant men. The barber had made sure of that.

It was the day before your birthday and you were feeling excited. You’d already received several cards and presents through the post and you felt this was going to be a good one. You could hear the rain beating down outside your house. It was heavy and hadn’t been letting up all day. You were hoping it would stop before tomorrow. But before you could get comfortable in your chair, you heard a knock at the door.

When you opened the door there was no one there. All you could see was the rain pouring down and an empty street. But when you looked down you noticed it. A box. It looked like an ordinary cardboard box with a small red bow on top. It was a few meters from your front door and was getting soaked in the rain. Quickly you rushed out to get it, rain soaking your clothes in the process. When you picked it up you could feel something bumping around inside. You opened it to see a small wooden brush. It looked like some old beard brush. This was weird, you didn’t have much facial hair so this seemed odd to you. Before you could think about who might have sent it, you decided to get inside before you got anymore wet.

You were soaked by the time you were back in your house. Drenched from head to toe. But something seemed a bit off. It didn’t feel like normal rain, you felt clammy. And the water was slick. Then you sniffed the air. God you stunk! It was like you’d been working out all day. The rain smelt of sweat and BO. You started stripping off the dripping clothing until you stood in just your underwear. But looking down everything seemed a bit different. Your stomach looked smaller and your arms looked more defined. Your stomach sucked in until it was nearly flat, abs and pecs covered under a small layer of fat which was quickly shedding. But one thing that was even weirder to you was the body hair. You’d never had much before but now it looked thicker. You had a pelt of hair across your chest and instead of just a snail train, it continued up your stomach.

You couldn’t help but flex and admire your changing body as it got beefier and hairier. You noticed your armpits were feeling itchier as your raised your arms. You were hit with a hot and pungent smell of unwashed body hair. Your once manageable armpit hair was now growing out. It was becoming long and unkept. It was soaked with sweat and the smell only got worse and worse. Droplets of BO were clinging to the hairs and dropping onto the floor and down your rib cage. They were like a leaky faucet. Hair was also creeping out of your armpits and joining the pelt on your chest as well as creeping up your shoulders. And it showed no sign of stopping.

The hair continued to grow up over your shoulders and started travelling down your back. It felt corse and itchy as it descended down your spine. It felt thick and you could tell it would make shirts uncomfortable. It’s grew thicker and thicker, especially under your shoulder blades where it looked like a tangled mass. Then you felt it slip under the back of your underwear. You quickly peeled them down to see your once smooth ass becoming swamped in the sweaty, thick hair. It was dark and hid your pale cheeks. It grew especially thick down the crack and showed no sign of stopping. You went to get a better view in the mirror and that’s when you realised your once relatively smooth face now sported a beard.

Your beard was dark and well kept. You’d never been able to grow this much facial hair before and you had no idea how you were going to maintain this. You ran your fingers through it and felt how warm and soft it was. It felt right. You looked down to the rest of your body and realised just how much hairier you’d gotten without realising. Your muscles body was now covered in a dense layer of fuzz. Your entire torso was covered in the stuff. Your legs also seemed thick as the hair made the already trunk like limbs look even bigger. Your forearms were also thick with it as they covered your skin almost completely. Your tattoos were still on your body, only now they were obscured by the dense forest you had growing off of you. Then you remembered the brush. Brushing it through your beard felt so comforting. You could do it for hours. You stood in the mirror admiring your new reflection. It was certainly different but felt so right. Sure, covering the smell of heavy body odour would be tough but you had the looks to balance it out. You looked like a bear, a hot and perfect muscle bear.

On the morning of your birthday, your friends and family saw a strange photo uploaded from your phone. It looked like a man they’d never seen before but he felt so familiar. No wait, he wasn’t familiar. Of course they knew him! That was Spence. He’d always been a muscle bear so this was a great photo of him. It showed him lifting up his shirt and showing off his abs. Below the photo was a caption. “Need a second to get my bearings 🐻! #birthdaybear.” This was a typical Spence caption. And it seemed he was ready for a great birthday.