TF Obsessed Yeen

You came into the store just as Barrel seemed to be taking inventory, a little clipboard in hand so he could mark off what he sold off so far. To free his hands he just tossed it and the pen he had away. They floated there in the air next to him for a moment, and then over to the front counter on their own to gently rest atop it.

“Lots of guys asking for a more bearish bod. Must be something in the water,” Barrel joked, a smirk flashing under his beard. “But I always got just the thing. And more bears is much better, I say! Let’s see what I got for you…”

This corner of the shop was entirely clothing, simple wooden cubbies and shelves had various articles for most any basic need. Since you mentioned a party, he got a little idea in his head, a direction to shape your simple wish toward. A couple articles in particular caught his eye, so he plucked them from their places and threw them over his shoulder. There was what looked like a rather large button up shirt and some skimpy bottoms you didn’t get a good look at. Heavy plodding footsteps signal his movement towards the front counter, where he set the clothes right next to his clipboard. It seemed he needed something from the case again to give that last little touch to your new ensemble. 

The full set was a double XL button up shirt, a pair of white short shorts with blue drawstrings, and a small pair of silver nipple rings. Within a moment they were all bagged and pushed across the counter to you. “Just come back ‘er call if you get any issues, handsome. Have fun. Changin’ room is in the back if ya can’t wait,” Barrel hiked a thumb over to the two small stalls in the corner opposite the counter. You made your way over, heart thudding in your chest already. The clothes had a smell to them. Not dirty, but it wasn’t like any detergent or laundry perfume you were familiar with. A simple curtain hangs in the doorway of the stall you choose, easily pushed aside so you can see the simple setup behind. It was standard, mirror on the back wall, a small bench below it. There wasn’t much space to move around. Before long your old clothes are set on the bench, new set laid out again just so you can look over it, be sure about yourself. Of course you are, you’ve gotten this far, haven’t you? The shirt is easiest, so you throw it around your shoulders. It hangs pretty loosely, an errant breeze would turn you into a flagpole. The material is nice though, very comfortable against your bare skin. Your legs leave a lot of space in the shorts even after they’re put on. You had to tug the drawstring for a while before they were even snug enough to not fall down. That just left… Shit, how were you supposed to get nipple rings on? You picked them up at least, just to hold them up next to your chest, approximate what they might look like whenever you actually got them in. Once the cool silver metal touched one, though, it just slipped in and anchored itself, as though it had always been there. The second one followed suit immediately, and suddenly a dull electric buzz began to fill your body. A soft groan left your lips, you felt hot all over, itchy. Your back felt cramped, so you arched it, rolling your shoulders back at the same time to a series of dull cracks and crunches that brought the relief you needed. The shirt doesn’t seem so loose now, oddly. You look down to see a broad, barrel-chest that pushed out the unbuttoned sides of your shirt. Your shoulders were broad, strong, almost as wide as the stall door judging by the mirror. 

There’s a cramp in your arms and hands, this time. With your eyes locked to your reflection, you stretch. Powerful muscle swelled under your skin, bones and joints all popping, stretching to keep up with the new mass in order to carry it adequately. Your whole upper body was thick and heavy, a hard task for your much thinner legs to handle. Luckily, it seemed they were next as the cramps came there next, even as your arms still slowly grew. 

A quick clench of your thighs is all your body seemed to need to set on it’s way, already feeling the hot corded bulk start to come forth. Thighs and biceps become thick and powerful, forearms and calves clenching and bulging with every shift of your fingers and toes. A low rumble comes from your slightly flabby middle.

Before you even think of it, you clench your whole abdomen and watch it bow outward into a small but powerful gut, solid to the touch, hanging out just past your heavy pecs.

This was a pretty good start, but you still didn’t feel quite finished. Your old face sits atop a body not your own, pale, patchy haired skin contrasting rather starkly against such magnificent, well aged bulk. Well aged? Where had that thought come from. You weren’t that old…

The itch grows more intense covering every inch of your body, up to your face. Your pale skin starts to tan while coarse, dark hair fills in the patches you already had, turning into a healthy top coat that swept up your torso, down your arms and legs. Judging by the itch across your back and at your crotch, you were getting hair there too. The drawstring of your shorts gets shorter and shorter the wider your hips get, till they’re just slightly less wide than your shoulders.

Even at this size, the hem of your shirt still goes past your shorts and fingertips, but it feels much more comfortable to wear, open to your furry torso and showing off glints of your nipple rings as you move. A low grunt of approval surprises you, having come from your very own chest. The look of surprise on your juvenile face turns to sultry satisfaction, your wide young eyes watching on as your old features were overtaken by a much more masculine profile.

Your whole skull felt the pressure, cheekbones and jawline pressing out to form the new you. A soft growl came from your throat as you saw a thick handlebar mustache compliment the features, and at the same time you felt your neglected nethers start to finally get some attention.

Slowly, with every eager beat of your heart, you felt your shaft start to push outward from it’s modest size, every inch pumped and throbbing, expanding. Girth and length alike began to pile onto your shaft, till the bulge if it was sticking prominently from your shorts. Not wanting to be left behind, your balls begin to churn and swell. You needed the equipment to match, after all.

One paw-like hand reaches down to heft the new, much meatier package. You blow a kiss to your reflection and turn to leave, your old clothes forgotten on the bench. Time to party!

Arthur couldn’t believe it: his very first music festival!

To be honest, he was a little nervous; he didn’t get out much, and only decided to go because a long time friend of his was a roadie and got them free passes. Arthur wandered around the sea of scantily clad attendees, waiting for his friend to arrive, wondering if he put on enough sunscreen.

Suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere and kissed Arthur. On the lips. He went cherry red. Once the head rush had subsided, he saw that the girl had vanished, and noticed something small slip down his throat.

Shit, did she just drug me??

EDM began thumping from a nearby stage. The crowd of hot festival goers around Arthur started jumping and dancing. Soon, he was jumping and dancing too.

The music… the drugs… it was doing something to him. Arthur felt his inhibitions melt away. He closed his eyes and pumped his chest with the beat. Little did he know it was getting bigger and bigger with each pump…

Heat radiated from Arthur’s skin as it stretched across growing pecs, growing biceps, and a growing back. He could feel the drop starting to build, the music rising in anticipation. So too did Arthur rise… a full extra foot off the ground.

Arthur wasn’t the same shy guy who arrived at the festival that morning. He was starting to look more like your average EDM bro, though there was nothing average about the muscles almost busting throuh that tank top.

The beat dropped—and with it, any semblance of the old “Arthur.” Gone were lonely memories of working from home. All he could remember was working out and getting swole. He was a cocky motherfucker: a big guy who loved loud music and hot chicks and getting royally fucked up.

He puffed his chest, literally tearing through the sweat-drenched fabric, and threw up his big muscle arms, howling like a horny wolf. Nobody would know that he just jizzed his pants.

If anything, that just made it hotter.

Arthur couldn’t believe it: his very first music festival!

To be honest, he was a little nervous; he didn’t get out much, and only decided to go because a long time friend of his was a roadie and got them free passes. Arthur wandered around the sea of scantily clad attendees, waiting for his friend to arrive, wondering if he put on enough sunscreen.

Suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere and kissed Arthur. On the lips. He went cherry red. Once the head rush had subsided, he saw that the girl had vanished, and noticed something small slip down his throat.

Shit, did she just drug me??

EDM began thumping from a nearby stage. The crowd of hot festival goers around Arthur started jumping and dancing. Soon, he was jumping and dancing too.

The music… the drugs… it was doing something to him. Arthur felt his inhibitions melt away. He closed his eyes and pumped his chest with the beat. Little did he know it was getting bigger and bigger with each pump…

Heat radiated from Arthur’s skin as it stretched across growing pecs, growing biceps, and a growing back. He could feel the drop starting to build, the music rising in anticipation. So too did Arthur rise… a full extra foot off the ground.

Arthur wasn’t the same shy guy who arrived at the festival that morning. He was starting to look more like your average EDM bro, though there was nothing average about the muscles almost busting throuh that tank top.

The beat dropped—and with it, any semblance of the old “Arthur.” Gone were lonely memories of working from home. All he could remember was working out and getting swole. He was a cocky motherfucker: a big guy who loved loud music and hot chicks and getting royally fucked up.

He puffed his chest, literally tearing through the sweat-drenched fabric, and threw up his big muscle arms, howling like a horny wolf. Nobody would know that he just jizzed his pants.

If anything, that just made it hotter.

Valence had seen the memes. He’d seen the movie. But never in a million years did he imagine he’d end up on one of those beaches that makes you old.

Now here he was: a 19-year-old college freshman with the body of a 45-year-old football dad.

When he arrived at the beach, his swim trunks had been one size too large, dangling off of his hips even with the straps tied tight. Now, they dug into his waist, clinging to his sandy skin and forcing him to leave the straps loose. When he arrived at the beach, he had a full head of shaggy brown hair many would call “luscious.” Now, he could feel the sting of direct sunlight on the back of his bare scalp.

But perhaps the biggest change of all was Valence’s size, the sheer volume of mature muscle mass he’d accumulated after just a few hours basking in the sands of time. Val had a pipe dream of becoming a bodybuilder later in life, but he never imagined he was capable of getting this big.

Valence waddled off back to the hotel in his new body, adjusting the huge package pressing against the front of his shorts, and imagining how he was going to explain to his parents how their son had transformed into a big hairy muscle bear.

Sometimes, life can be a real beach.

Paul was insatiable.

He breathed deep into the wet white cloth pressed hard against his face, savoring a fresh wave of salty sweat and man musk. The smell was intoxicating, like a warm blanket on a bitter winter morning.

As he inhaled, Paul imagined the jockstrap as it was just hours ago (had it been hours? He’d lost all sense of time): cradling George’s fat hairy balls and big bear ass, stretching and straining against his backside as he did deadlifts at the gym, soaking in his essence until it was dripping with sweat.

So enamored was Paul that he didn’t even notice the changes his own body had undergone. He didn’t notice the patches of dark brown hair sprouting across his chest, arms, and legs with each sniff. He didn’t notice the bulk he had packed on, the steady swelling of his muscles, and the growing resemblance he was now bearing to the bear who’s undergarments he had stuffed in his face.

This was so unlike him. Paul had never been one to care about a man’s scent. In fact, he preferred not to smell anything when being with another guy. But then came George: a massive, burly mountain of a man who became a staple of Paul’s quiet Midwestern gym just a few months ago.

The first thing Paul noticed about George (besides his barrel chest and rippling biceps) was his smell. It was pure masculinity, raw and ripe ready to sniff. It wafted off him in sheets; Paul could almost always smell George before he saw him, and his scent would linger on the equipment long after he’d moved onto another exercise.

It wasn’t long before Paul became something of an addict. He couldn’t go a day without catching a whiff of his unique scent. He even shifted his schedule so he could workout at the same time as George. Paul was pretty sure the older bodybuilder knew he was being watched, but George didn’t seem to mind. Even if he did, Paul didn’t have the strength to stop.

But that day, Paul took his addiction one step too far. That day, George decided to take a shower after his workout. Disappointed as Paul was that this man would choose to wash off that glorious smell, George had also left his used jockstrap hanging in his open locker. Unattended.

So here Paul found himself: standing in his bedroom, knees quivering, George’s jock held tight to his face. The magical musk seeped through the fabric into Paul’s tissue, rewriting his very DNA. When Paul groaned with longing, it was in a much deeper voice. When he rubbed his dick in his own jockstrap, it was with big meaty mitts and thick, hairy fingers.

Paul awoke that morning a smooth, average-looking man in his mid-20’s. Now: he could have been in his late 30’s, hard-bodied and covered in hair. His toned muscles and comfortable bulk screamed former bodybuilder, and though he was nowhere near as big as George, he was certainly getting close.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Paul jumped, and the jockstrap fell to the floor. There, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, was George.

“Wha—how—?“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” George said in a gruff voice, “I could smell you halfway across town.”

Smell? What was he talking about? Paul didn’t smell like anything… did he?

The bearded bear shook his head like a disappointed parent. “That smell you’re so turned on by? It’s not technically mine. Well, it is now, but it wasn’t always.” George stepped forward into the room, filling the tiny space with his stench.

“In fact, I used to look a lot like you before some big hairy bloke walked into my gym smelling like… well… this.” He lifted his arm and gave the deep, pungent pit a good scratch. Paul’s dick stiffened. He knew he should be concerned—this strange man in his house telling this strange story—but the closer Paul George got, the hornier he became.

“Don’t you see? This scent is a curse, turning normal guys like us into the biggest, sweatiest, smelliest versions of ourselves. Don’t believe me? Look at yourself! I barely recognized you when I walked in.”

Paul was completely unprepared for what he saw in the bedside mirror. The reflection staring back at him looked more at home in an underground leather bar than a young man’s bedroom: big veiny biceps, puffy pecs and a small gut cresting over his jock.

And the hair… Christ, it was everywhere. Bushes of brown bristles littered every inch of his skin, gathering like pools under his pits, pubes, and in his new cleavage. What was worse? Not all of the hair was brown; Paul could see speckles of grey in his new facial scruff. Crows’ feet were starting to form around his eyes. He looked 38… at least.

Paul felt a warm breath on his back, and that all-too familiar scent burned his nostrils. He saw in the mirror as George came up behind him, studying his new body with a mix of regret and desire.

“I—“ Paul stammered, “I’m… I’m—“

“Fucking gorgeous,” George crooned. He wrapped those big arms around Paul’s torso and pulled him close, kissing his neck. He shivered as George’s whiskers tickled his skin and his hips thrust gently against Paul’s exposed ass.

A wet spot appeared on the front of Paul’s jock as pre cum began to spill from his iron rod cock. He resisted the desire to push back against George’s dick, to spread those hairy cheeks and give into the advances of a man he’s lusted after for weeks. “No,” he said (more to himself than George), “this isn’t me. I have to change back.”

“Too late for that bro,” George whispered directly into Paul’s ear. “My advice? Best just enjoy the ride.”

With that, George pushed Paul onto the bed. His added weight caused the frame to groan and creak, and Paul watched over the horizon of his widening pec shelf as the muscle bear began to peel the clothes from his colossal body.

As George undressed, thoughts of fear and uncertainty swirled in Paul’s mind. Was he to spend the remainder of his life as this: an old, smelly brute with more hair on his body than his head? Would too inadvertently pass this fate onto some other guy?

Did he want to?

George bent down and gave Paul’s own jock a hearty sniff. His transformation had been a workout unto itself, so the orange fabric was drenched in sweat and—by the look on George’s face—smelled of that familiar tang. He shook his head. “I just can’t get enough of it,” George confessed.

And the truth was: neither could Paul. He was possessed by the sudden realization that from now on, it would be he who would walk into the gym and turn heads with his musk. He was the muscle mountain that guys couldn’t resist, more a man than he had ever—and possibly would ever be. This wasn’t a curse: it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

All fears subsided as the scent consumed his every sense. In that moment, all he wished was to be with George: sandwiched between his thick lumber legs, tucked in his warm embrace, and bathing in a smelly sea of hair, muscle, and pure masculine essence.

George took the strap between his teeth and pulled it from his waist, unleashing the full force of Paul’s fresh odor, and letting his sweaty cock flop onto his new bear belly, leaking like a busted pipe.

He was about to get his wish.

The sound of a bell followed you inside when you pushed the door open. You’d heard of this shop, its unique dealings, and a little pang of hope glimmered in your chest when you looked around. Something about the shelves and displays of trinkets and artifacts, clothes and jewelry, it all felt magical. Every piece radiated with energy, warmth, power. By the front counter was a whole rack of hats, everything from trucker caps to cowboy hats all organized rather haphazardly. You felt like if you bumped into it the whole thing would come tumbling down in a cascade of headwear.

For the moment, nobody seemed to be around. Something pulled you to the front counter, like an invisible hand had you by the collar of your shirt, tugging gently to get you to come along. Once you were right there at the counter, you saw it immediately. Under the glass, in the case where all the jewelry was kept, was a large ring, steel with a ball bearing on one side. It looked like a nose ring for a bull. It felt right, your fingers itched just to touch it, to know for sure if this was the one, the thing that would give you what you needed, finally.

“Can I help ya, son?” Barrel said from behind you. Somehow he’d snuck up on you, quiet as a ghost even with his giant frame. He had a smile on his face, arms filled with knick knacks and things that he seemed to be stocking on the already rather packed looking shelves. “Looks like ya got eyes on that ring there, real fine piece. Was gonna put together a package deal for it though, got some other stuff here that’d fit it pretty damn well.”

Barrel came around, dumping his armful of stuff on the counter so he could slide the case open and pluck the ring from its place on the shelf. He set it in front of you. For a moment, you hesitated, the power radiating off of this innocuous ring of metal was unsettling. But you couldn't keep yourself away for long. From the second your fingers touched it, you knew for sure. This was it, this was what you were wanting, what your aching heart had pulled you toward.

“I see a connection there, mm. Good! Truth be told, had that one a while, almost since I started up. Never seemed right for anyone. Tell me…” He picked a hat up off the precarious display nearby, a plain black baseball cap with holes at the top, the kind anthro-humans had to buy so their ears could fit through the top. From the pile he had in his arms previous, he picked a scrap of cloth and tugged, revealing a flame pattern. It was a thong, it’s pouch black with the stylized flames creeping up from the bottom. Barrel set them on the counter in front of you. “How do these feel? Bout the same?”

They didn’t have the same pull as the ring, not by a long shot. Still, their energy reached out to you, invisible fingers brushing against yours. Maybe they weren’t ‘the one’ like the ring, but there was something to offer, something that would help the ring take you to where you wanted to be.

The bell’s tinkling followed you again on your way out, your items in a small paper bag. Even through the paper you felt that pull, growing stronger now that all three items were together, like they were resonating with each other. Getting back home was a blur. It was hard to focus on anything but what might happen, what you’d finally end up as. 

Finally your front door shut, and you didn’t even hesitate to tear the bag open. It didn’t occur to you till  you had the ring in your hands, ready to put it on, that you weren’t even pierced. Still, you felt you had to try. It was magic, maybe that part would just take care of itself. Sure enough it seemed to. As soon as you lifted the heavy metal to your face, it slid in at your septum like it had been there for a while. Due to the size, it nearly blocked your nostrils entirely. The tingle you felt from it spiked suddenly, like an electric shock struck the metal. A constant current began to rise, sparks flying through your bones and nerves. It didn’t take long to start, and it hit you hard. Suddenly you had to sneeze, and when it came out you were caught in a fit of them, sneezing over and over. Every time you did your bones warped and stretched like taffy, skull pushing forward into a broad, blunt muzzle with wide flaring nostrils that fit the new ring more by the moment. Steely gray fur spread from your face, ears pulling up to points as if tugged by a sculptor's hand. Your heart thudded in your ears, the rush of blood all through your body carried the enchantment along. From your head down your whole body changed further, the fur spread like fire, short and tight so all the muscle that was swelling up like balloons under your skin was nice and visible, veins standing out on biceps that you couldn’t help but flex till they busted the sleeves of your shirt to ribbons. Your chest ground against your chin when you looked down, feeling the pudge you so longed to get rid of start to melt away, evaporate like water like a summer rain. Once the soft bit was taken care of, your gut surged out into a slight dome, smooth and firm, solid with power. “H-HAAAAWW!” You brayed, a jolt of overwhelming, red-hot lust making your endowment shoot to attention. The modest length of it stood out under your gut, though you couldn’t see it from this angle. 

That soon changed, jolt after jolt hitting you from the very back of your taint all the way to the crown of your now copiously leaking length. Every spike in intensity had you gritting your teeth, huge hands clenched to fists, drool leaking from the corners of your new snout. It took all you had to stumble over to your couch and throw yourself onto it just so you wouldn’t have to worry about falling over. 

The second your ass touched the cushions, your hand wrapped around your shaft. It was already larger, and every second it felt more girthy, heavy. There was an upward curve to it, though it was only slight. It seemed there was more girth than length being added, and you capped out at about five inches. Even then, your width only increased further, till you were holding a cock as wide as a tall boy can of beer. It looked right, sitting there between your pumped thighs, toes wiggling below as your feet finally caught up to the rest of your body. The soles and toes were much more broad now, better to carry your mass around.

Sweat covered your body, a hot tangy stink that choked your much bigger nostrils. You felt a twinge at your tailbone. A bundle of nerves and flesh was sitting right above your ass, wiggling and stretching a few millimeters at a time. The fur covered what had to be your new tail for every bit it grew. Once it had about six inches on it, dark wiry hairs started to grow out the end of it in a spaded tuft. At the same time a mane of the same color grew out between your ears, down your neck. A bit of it flopped over your brow, it covered the space between your newly stretched ears. The tail, your tail, suddenly surged out, like an invisible hand took it by the end and yanked, adding another foot to its length. Sweat and precum soaked your couch, dripped onto your floor. There was still the hat and jock left, a couple final touches you could feel were ready to be made.

Getting back up was much more effortless than you thought it would be, your redwood thighs flexing under your tight steely fur. The paper bag that held the poser and hat was right within your reach, and in a moment you had the cap on your head, ears pushed through the holes, bill facing backward. The poser was a bit harder to deal with, your pecs and firm musclegut obscured your view below almost completely. 

You decided to go back to your bedroom, where your closet had a full length mirror on the door. Your length throbbed and spat out a thick wad of precum at the sight of your new body, the true self that just needed a bit of help to come forth. This body was so wide that your shoulders were well past the edges of the mirror. At least it gave you the guidance you needed to get the band of your poser around your legs. Your thumbs hooked the waistband and tugged up till it was snug at your waist, it’s pouch cupping your fat donkey dick nice and cozy.  The second every item was on, the ensemble complete, their energies started to resonate. Your bones felt like tuning forks, vibrating with this frequency that permeated every muscle and strand of fur. Precum soaked through the poser, dripping to the floor between your feet. Hot needling pricks shot up from under your skin all across your chest. It was most intense under your arms and at your crotch. You lifted your arms to see thick, sweaty bushes of body hair, dark and coarse. A treasure trail shot up from your crotch, where your whole pubic area became a jungle, absolutely sopping in sweat and pheromones.

“Fuck, fuck yeah!” you bellow from deep in your chest, throwing your arms up in a cocky flex that made your dick throb and leak another wad of precum.

This was your true form, finally brought forth. What will you do now that you have it?

I’ll be glad to help unleash that big bearded bear that’s dormant in you. I’m gonna start somewhere small, right on your face. You might feel something, as those wisps of your beard grow out, becoming bushier and bushier till you’re sporting an impressive beard. New hairs tickle at your nose, causing you to sneeze; when you look back in the mirror, suddenly your whole facial profile has changed. A thick wide nose, with a domineering stare. 

You look quite funny now, that bearish face on top of such a lithe body. Not for long though, as I can already see fat pushing out from every part of your body. Not just fat though, as quite a noticeable amount of muscle joins it. Feel those your chest barrel out, a fat muscle gut with a pair of moobs resting on top. 

Your arms and legs swell, becoming packed with muscle and fat. Your height shoots up, easily passing six feet and getting even taller. You can feel a stirring in your pants, as your cock gets hard, pushing well past your typical length till you are sporting a proper dick that a bear like you should have. Your nuts ache, getting larger and hairier. 

You can take in any more, taking a meaty hand and energetically working your fat rod. You glance over at a mirror, basking in the sight of the massive bear that’s now you working his fat hairy cock. Doesn’t take long until you are cumming, getting cum mixed in with your hairy chest.

You clean up, and considerately take a picture of the new you for me.

Although the shirt is destroyed, in its replace is a WEREWOLF HAND YAAAA Support: https://ko-fi.com/purekoor

Well hi there! Glad you could stop in today, lil one… Looking for anything in particular? I got a fair few trinkets here that might interest ya, all a reasonable price, all guaranteed to be what you’re lookin for, or your money back. Hm? Ye wanna know about me, eh? Sure…

I wish I could be more of a daddy type. Can you make my wish real?

“More of a daddy type, eh?” Barrel smiles, clapping his paws and rubbing them together. “Well, there’s a good few kinds I know of, but it seems you’re a good ways to one in particular. A few decades, some gym time and an increase in calorie intake ought to get you exactly where you want to be. No change in wardrobe though, that really seems to work for ya,” A soft chuckle rises from his chest. 

The bear turns, wide back nearly filling the doorway behind his cozy shop counter. A few boxes skid and shift, he shuffles around a moment or two, his big bushy tail up and twitching back and forth at its tip. Eventually he shuffles his way back out of the store room and presents you with a glasses case. It was open and holding a set of simple silver wire framed glasses with large round lenses. “These ought to do nicely for ya! They’ll gradually bring your body up to pace with where you like. Upside is, ya won’t have to worry about your wardrobe or family n friends asking why you’re so different. Standard reality dampening as the change takes effect, it’ll wear off once things are through. You might eh, actually need those glasses once things are done as well, though. Don’t worry, prescription’s gonna be all taken care of. They even got polarizin' lenses! I really did think of everything. Try em on, eh?” You take the glasses. They rest on your face comfortably, though they seem a bit big. Already a comfortable warmth and numbness is blanketing your body. It spreads fast and pushes deep, enveloping you entirely in seconds. Just blinking feels like it takes a powerlifter’s strength, and so you feel compelled to keep your eyes closed as you feel your body, your being start to change. Even as you stand still, anchored to the worn hard wood shop floor by your simple sneakers, you feel like you’re hurtling through space, or time. A burn, an itch, blooming across your skin like fire, wiry black hair pushing up from your skin gradually, enhancing the generous coat already there, making it denser. The glasses feel more comfortable, they rest much better on your face now that your cheeks are a bit more filled out. The weight you feel seems to gradually lift, though some stayed on your limbs, heavy cords of muscle flexing under your skin. Every breath made your belly and chest expand, and each time there was just a bit of swell that didn’t shrink back down. Soon there’s wild dark chest hair poking out of the collar of your button up, the buttons of which strained over the sheer masculine mass of your torso as it built up to more and more impressive size. Not content with being left behind, your limbs catch up with sudden bursts of power. You feel a compulsion to idly flex, not lifting your arms, just flexing the muscles in place, see how they feel. The tense pump feels good, your blood pounds, flying through your veins like a bullet train. The exhilaration of decades of workouts and thousand calorie feasts piles on in moments instead of years.  Under the coarse jungle of hair your skin tans a bit, becomes slightly weather beaten. By now the beach bum dad look you walked into the shop with seemed to fit more by the second. You open your eyes, sight around the frame’s edges blurred and messy.

In the time your eyes were closed, Barrel pulled out a full length mirror and placed it in front of the counter. The man staring back at you was in his mid forties, it looked like, temples and beard graying, a bit of salt in his chest hair. Pure, fat loaded brawn filled out all his limbs, with a gut like a firm, hairy beach ball sticking out under his boulder-like chest muscles.

“The finishing touches will take a few days. You’ll get a bit bigger, bit older, till things fade off. Though if you find you want a bit more of a jump, you’re a wish away…”

I just kind of want to know what it's like to be that size and what big soft belly might feel like.

Barrel tapped his fingers idly against the shop counter, dull black claws clicking in a steady four beat rhythm. “Big n’ confident, mm? Not uncommon. But we all got the shapes we wanna be confident in. Ain’t a hard ask, though, not fer me. Just tryin to remember what I got round here…”

As he trailed off, his eyes roved about beyond you, over your shoulders at the shelves and displays all loaded with trinkets and books and all sorts of other things. Cool overcast morning sunlight came in through the shop’s front windows, it was quiet save the two of you. His eyes caught you again. It seemed the spark he needed was finally there, his brain abuzz, tail swishing behind him. “I think I remember just th’thing, actually, lemme just…” 

He stepped back, sliding the back door of his shop counter open so he could reach in. The locked counter space was full of jewelry, mostly. From simple gold chains to nearly gaudy pendants with palm sized stones, cut and polished gems to raw, rough stones looking like they’d come straight out of the ground yesterday. Barrel plucked a ring from the top shelf and stood back up with it between his fingers. “This is one of those uh, spinner rings? I forget what ya call em. There’s a bit here,” He holds it up, rubbing across the outer surface of it with the rough pad of his thumb. There was a bit in the middle that smoothly moved about, spinning with the movement of his thumb. “It’s a stress thing, y’know? Fidgeting with it is s’posed to calm ya down. Works for me, at least. Just stick it on yer index finger and it’ll get to work. Whenever ya might feel a lil nervous, self conscious, just give that ring a rub n breathe nice n’ n deep, yeah?” Barrel smiled wide enough his fangs showed, he slid the ring across the counter toward you.

As you took the ring, sliding the cool metal over your finger, Barrel interjected again. “Ah, n’ don’t worry about yer wardrobe. As ya grow, it ought to keep pace with ya. Though if you like the feeling of slightly small clothes on, the enchantments will accommodate ya.” 

Once the ring rested comfortably on your finger, a cool tingle rocketed up and down your spine, pinging back and forth like a runaway pinball. Barrel smiled, seemingly amused by the look on your face. 

“Feels good, eh? This one works kinda slow. It’ll be gradual. Just come back t’me if ya got any problems, yeah? Or another wish,” That last bit was playful, a mischievous spark in his eye. The gentle tinkle of the shop’s bell followed you back out into the cool morning air. Already you were absentmindedly spinning the ring with your thumb, that cool tingle working it’s way down to your bones, gentle enough that after a while it became hard to notice. On the bus back home, you took the back seat like usual. Your gut spilled out from under your shirt, settling heavy on your lap. That’s a drag, you thought. I just got this shirt. 

You feel a compulsion to rub your gut all of a sudden, your other hand already laid atop it and idly moving back and forth. It was kinda soothing, actually, like a worry stone. And Barrel did say your wardrobe would catch up. Probably just a momentary hiccup. The whole ride back you were both rubbing your belly and spinning the ring. Your stop came up, and the bus hissed to a halt. Hauling yourself back up to your feet seemed a bit harder than usual, but you got up just fine, belly wobbling and jiggling, especially the few inches that hung out below your shirt. The aisle seemed a bit tighter too, hm. Getting the rest of the way home was easy, you pushed your door open and almost immediately flopped on the couch. The frame creaked and groaned, your whole body sloshed back and forth like an unbroken water balloon dropped to the ground. Still not much bigger than before, but god you felt heavy. That’s what you wanted anyhow, eh? 

A few days pass. You don’t have to go out, so staying in with your new ring and seeing how things turn out seems like the best thing to do with your time. It’s hard to notice just staring at yourself, but you swear every time you pass a mirror you’re just that little bit bigger, softer. Gosh, it’s everywhere. Your belly was huge, of course, nice and soft like you asked. But everything else wasn’t anything to scoff at. Your fatty chest was laid atop your belly like it was a shelf, and whenever you brushed it with your hands or arms an almost electric shock of pleasure rocked through your body. 

There was a lot more hair on you too, it seemed. At least, you thought so. The smooth feel of your belly, or anywhere else really, with a slightly coarse coat of brown body hair complimented you well. Your beard grew out much faster than normal too, till it was brushing your chest, flared out like a grand, regal mane. No point in shaving it now, eh? 

Of course, you tried to pleasure yourself. Why wouldn’t you? This is the body you’ve been wanting for so long, isn’t it? It’s hard to reach, but thankfully your equipment seems to have grown as well. There’s a lot more girth, weight. Everything about you is heavy, it shifts and rubs against itself with every step, every movement. It’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever felt. The only thing that could be better is to have someone to share it with… 

You take out your phone, luckily with a selfie arm nearby you had the reach you needed to take a picture of the absolute behemoth you’d become.

Might as well start fishing now, eh? And send a pic to ol’ Barrel too, love to see the new and improved you!