#bear tf

Werebear stuffs featuring Ulfric Stormcloak (Skyrim) because I couldnt think on a better subject hgksh. Not exactly the Werebear design of the Game, so its more like a HC. Also this would either fix him or make him worse and I'm here to see that

Taylor's been overworking herself, so Linette is making sure she gets some rest..

this sequence was voted on and posted early for my patrons! patreon.com/Pobblebonked

I took a few creative liberties here and wrote a long one lol. Enjoy!

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

“C’mon,” Ethan muttered, gripping the back of the couch as he tried to straighten his right leg. “I’ve got this... I've... fuck!”

He exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the couch, wincing as the pain shot through his knee. It hurt so much, so fuckin' much. And it wasn't just physical. He could hear his phone buzzing, the messages piling up.

"You coming back this season, bro?"

"Tubing Friday. Your knee good enough yet?"

"Scouts still asking about you btw."

Ethan cursed again. He missed going to practice. Missed drinking with bros. Missed the parties, the dumb arguments, the camaraderie. He missed his life before the injury.

“Fuck me...” His head sunk into his hands, "Stupid fuckin' knee."

He glanced up at his stick and the framed photo of the team. Him in the middle with a wide grin and his arm around his bros. Fuck... he wanted to get back to that. And he wanted to get back fast.

"There's gotta be a way..." He muttered.

An hour later he was deep in rehab forums when an ad stopped him cold.

BUILD-U-BACK RECOVERY NOW ENROLLING IN YOUR AREA: A NEW START, LASTING RELIEF

“Sounds fake as hell,” Joe murmured. But when he glanced back at the team photo he felt a pang in his chest. He reached for his wallet soon after.

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

This was it. Ethan stood on the empty practice field, stick in hand. The cold night air felt good against his warm skin. The stadium lights already dimming.

"Okay..." He bounced on the balls of his feet, "Okay, I've got this."

He dropped into goalie stance carefully, bracing for the pain. But it never came.

"No way..." Ethan pushed harder, shuffling across the crease before planting sharply off the bad leg, "Oh my god." He laughed with disbelief, "No fuckin' way!"

"Walsh?"

Ethan spun and smiled wider when he saw Luke, "Bro!"

"Dude! You're running!"

"I know! I fuckin' know!" He pointed at his knee, "It's gone, dude! It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Let's fuckin' go, bro!"

It fuckin' worked. That fuckin' drug actually worked! Ethan stood proud, chest heaving and adrenaline surging. He was back. Practice, scouts, games, parties... it was all back.

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

“Dude! First game back, you feel ready?”

Ethan looked up from tying his cleats and grinned. “More than ready.”

He tugged at the bottom of his hoodie, annoyed again by how tight it felt around his waist and chest. He’d already stopped wearing some of his older shirts entirely after realizing they didn’t fit right anymore. He figured his dryer was doing a number on his wardrobe.

“We won’t be too upset if you fuck up out there,” Luke said while peeling his shirt over his head. “We get you’re a little rusty.”

“Eat shit,” Ethan laughed, tossing a roll of tape at him before reaching for his own hoodie.

The cool air felt warm against his skin, and Ethan scratched absentmindedly at his chest, pausing for just a moment as his fingers tangled with thicker hairs there.

"The fuck...?" Ethan frowned and looked down.

Dark curls spread across the middle of his chest before trailing down his stomach and disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. Sweat glistened faintly through the hair despite the cold room, and when Ethan shifted slightly, the waistband dug tighter against a stomach that suddenly looked thicker than he remembered.

"I shaved this shit this morning..." He figured the hair growth was a side effect of the drug, but he'd spent the last few days making sure he kept it under control. But now...?

Luke whistled low. “Damn, Walsh. Didn’t realize the recovery plan involved growing a lawn on your chest and blowing out your waistline.”

A couple guys laughed awkwardly before looking away again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan muttered, pulling his jersey on faster than usual. The fabric stretching tighter around his waist than he remembered.

Nobody really said anything after that.

Ethan forced a grin anyway and slammed his locker shut. “Alright, boys,” he called out. “Let’s do this.”

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

It was supposed to feel normal again. Friday night. Sports bar packed wall-to-wall after the game. Music too loud. Ethan sat wedged between Luke and Dylan with a cold Busch Light in his hand before realizing halfway through the bottle that he didn’t even remember ordering it.

“You looked like shit tonight,” Luke laughed.

“Appreciate it.”

“Seriously though, you good?”

Ethan scratched at the rough stubble on his chin. “Just playing bad.”

His phone buzzed against the table.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON ONE MONTH! YOUR NEXT PHASE OF RECOVERY STARTS TONIGHT!"

Ethan frowned at the notification before locking the screen again, "Next phase?" He stared at his arm, now dusted with dark hairs.

"Hey Ethan." Luke nudged him, "Someone's staring."

Ethan spotted her across the bar. Blond. Gorgeous. Smiling at him. For the first time all night, something loosened in his chest.

“There we go,” Dylan laughed when he caught Ethan staring. “That’s the Walsh we know.”

Ethan grinned and took another sip. Soon after, he was fumbling with his apartment keys while she laughed softly beside him in the hallway. They moved to his bedroom, clothes discarded quickly.

"Fuck..." Ethan whispered, as she kissed slowly along his neck, "I needed..."

"Standby mode protocol upload."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“What?” she asked softly.

“It's uh... Nothin’.”

Her hands slid slowly across his chest and draped around his shoulders before pausing.

“Wow,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re kinda hairy.”

Ethan glanced down automatically, eyes widening at the sight of the dark hair curling across his shoulders and down his back.

"That's not..." He knew it wasn't there five hours ago.

“Sorry,” she added quickly, still smiling. “You’re just hairer than most guys I’ve been with.”

"Pleasure directives stem from labor initiatives."

Ethan winced hard enough that she finally pulled back slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just...” He rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t feel right.”

She kissed him again anyway, her hand sliding lower across the thicker, softer shape of his stomach before slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers and around his flaccid cock.

“Oh,” she laughed gently, trying to mask her confusion.

Ethan glanced down, a wave of sickening humiliation washing over him. His cock stayed completely dead. Buried in a dense, coarse mat of newly thick pubic hair and a rapidly expanding fat pad, his dick looked distinctly shorter, stubbier, and entirely useless

“You okay?” she asked again, quieter this time.

“Yeah. I just...” He swallowed hard. “I dunno. It's not working... I... Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, “Seriously. It happens.”

A few minutes later he stood awkwardly by the door while she slipped her shoes back on.

“Maybe just stress?” she offered gently.

“Yeah.” Ethan forced a laugh. “Probably.”

After she left, the apartment felt painfully quiet again. Ethan stood there shirtless for another minute before walking to the fridge automatically and grabbing another Busch Light.

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

A week had passed, and Ethan exhaled heavily as he stepped out of the shower. He’d stopped changing in the locker room after practice a few days ago, tired of catching teammates staring too long at his stomach or shoulders before awkwardly looking away. Now, alone in his apartment, there was nobody else left to notice except him.

“Jesus Christ...” he whispered at his reflection.

The mirror across from the bed reflected somebody that looked wrong. Dark curls spread heavily across his chest and shoulders now, while rough stubble shadowed his jaw despite shaving before practice that morning. Even standing still, his body looked heavier than it used to.

“I’m exercising,” Ethan muttered weakly. “I’m eating healthy...” His eyes drifted toward the empty Busch Light cans scattered across the nightstand, “I...”

"Standby initiating."

Ethan’s breath caught as the voice echoed in his head.

“What the...”

"Standby mode active."

Every muscle in his body locked instantly.

Ethan jerked hard against it on instinct, but nothing responded correctly. His fingers twitched once beside his thigh before going still again. His chest continued rising and falling normally. He could blink. Breathe. Swallow. But that was it.

“What... the fuck...” he forced out weakly.

Hours passed as Ethan sat frozen on the edge of the bed staring into the mirror. The rough hair across his chest thickened slowly while his stomach pushed heavier against his lap with every shallow breath. His face itched constantly as a dark beard spread across his jaw until he looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks.

A knock on the door and the sound of heavy footsteps entering his apartment made him tense. He watched as two men in BUILDING-U-BACK jackets entered his room and stopped mid-step when they saw Ethan in nothing but a pair of tight sweatpants.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “That’s the lacrosse kid?”

“Yeah. CRW-57F.”

The younger guy kept staring. “Still got some of that frat-boy face left.”

“Not for too long.”

The younger rep shook his head slowly. “Weird seeing one this young.”

“Don’t worry,” the older rep said casually. “Give it a week and you won’t even be able to pick 'em out from the others.”

Ethan strained against the paralysis hard enough that his jaw twitched once.

“You know what’s crazy?” the younger rep continued. “Six months from now he’ll be drinking beer after shifts talking about kids that don’t exist like the rest of ’em.”

“Yeah well, the whole family-man thing makes clients comfortable. People trust workers who look settled.”

One of them glanced toward the empty Busch Light cans beside the bed.

“Damn,” he muttered. “He’s already self-reinforcing.”

“Good sign.”

Ethan let out another whimper as he tried to reach for his phone, but his arm wouldn't budge.

“Oh shit,” the younger rep said suddenly. “You think he knows what we’re saying?”

“Nah,” the older rep replied casually. “The lab guys say there's not much left going on upstairs during standby.”

Ethan felt something cold settle quietly in his chest. The older rep finally looked directly at him and nodded toward the hallway.

“C’mon CRW-57F," He tossed him his old lacrosse hoodie, "Housing assignment’s ready.”

Ethan stood automatically.

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

Ethan barely remembered the drive to the facility. He had been packed into a van shoulder-to-shoulder with a few other hirsute guys sporting beer guts. His eyes remained fixed on the man across from him, and Ethan realized with growing dread that it was like looking in a mirror.

"There's been a mistake!" He tried to call out, but the words in his head wouldn't leave his mouth, "Please..."

When they did finally arrive at the facility, he was walked to a featureless room with a table and a few bins.

"This is CRW-57F." A man said to his colleague, entering the room, "Originally Ethan Walsh. Signed up for the program for an injured knee." He looked down at his clipboard, "Worker identity is officially Joe Mercer."

"Joe Mercer? That's not..." He thought, but the name Ethan was already starting to feel distant.

"Alright, let's get him in the system." The man continued, "We're going to need your personal belongings, CRW-57F."

Joe felt as he reached into his pocket and gripped his phone. He quickly dropped it into one of the bins, along with his keys, wallet, student ID.

"Oh shit, that's the college kid?" One of the men said, looking down at the ID.

"Yeah, lacrosse player, if you can believe it now."

"Damn, that drug did a number on him." The man sighed, "Okay, CRW-57F, need the clothes too."

Ethan winced as he gripped his team's lacrosse hoodie and yanked it off. Cool air hit the thick hair covering his chest and stomach, and he heard one of the employees exhale quietly through his nose.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Hope the knee was worth it.”

"Update on the apartment?"

"Cleaning crew is taking care of that, lease will terminate tomorrow."

"N-No..." Ethan thought, imagining them clearing it out. His team photo. His lacrosse gear. The clothes crammed into the closet. Every piece of evidence that Ethan Walsh had ever existed.

"Family updated?" The other man nodded, "And..."

"What do you think? Took it poorly." The other man sighed, "Kid’s barely old enough to drink and now he’s gonna look older than his dad."

"Visitation scheduled?"

"In a month."

Ethan felt his stomach twist. The thought of his parents seeing him like this made him want to disappear.

"By then he'll be settled enough that it won't matter much." The rep muttered, "They all stop trying eventually."

One of them picked up Ethan's student ID and looked at the picture for a second before tossing it into the bin with the rest of his belongings.

"Poor kid."

"Yeah."

The lid snapped shut. A folded stack of clothes landed in Ethan’s arms a second later. Gray work shirt. Plain jeans. Steel-toe boots. The employee checked another box on his clipboard.

“Alright CRW-57F,” he said casually. “let's get you downstairs.”

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

Ethan barely slept.

The worker housing smelled like sweat, musk, sawdust, and stale beer. The bed made his back ache. Men wandered the halls at all hours wearing gray shirts and work pants, scratching at thick stomachs or rubbing sleep from heavy eyes while they talked about wives, back pain, football games, and their kids.

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!”

Ethan sat quietly on the edge of his bed with a Busch Light in his hand, staring toward the floor while his body moved through routines his brain still hadn’t fully accepted. Every few hours that same pressure built behind his eyes again, and afterward his thoughts always came back slower.

"Who are these people?" He wondered, "They all look... the same..."

But when he looked down, he realized how much he looked like them too. Even more than the night he was brought to the facility. The gut, the hair, the beard, the weathered skin... what the fuck had they done to him?

“Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man.”

Ethan looked up slowly. A different pair of workers stood near the vending machines now.

“Yeah? Mine just turned thirteen. Kid's eating me out of house and home already!” The exact same laugh followed.

Ethan felt his stomach tighten. It was the same conversation, the same cadence… the same everything. They all talked like that. All looked the same. Nothing to distinguish them...

"Lacrosse." He thought suddenly.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the locker room. The smell of the gear. The roar after a clean save. He could almost see the jersey. Blue. Or green? No... Red?

Ethan shuddered and took another swig of his beer.

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

He couldn't recall the drive out here. One moment he was climbing into his assigned bunk, the next he was hauling lumber across a chaotic job site. Sweat drenched the thick hair across his torso. He reeked, too... of sawdust, exhaustion, and that stale musk clinging like the rest of them. He craved a shower, but knew better. Management preferred them this way.

"57F?" Two reps walked past him, "Still not meeting his quotas."

"Really? You'd think with him having been a star athlete..."

"Eh, you would think." The rep muttered, "We've found it really doesn't."

"Shame. We'll ship him out to Ohio tomorrow then, they're looking for more men and he's slowing us down."

He continued to work, but their words kept repeating in his head. A month ago, he was a star. Always getting positive feedback, always being commended. Now, he was failing at whatever this nightmare was.

"Joe?" He turned immediately to see one of the workers approach him, "You remember my boy, yeah?" The man smiled, "Tyler’s putting on weight. Gonna join the football team like his old man."

"Yeah?" The word left his mouth before he could even think about it. In fact, he didn't even really process it. Everything slowed suddenly, simplified in his brain. Lacrosse? Old apartment? Friends? Suddenly, it felt far from reach, "Mine just turned thirteen." He'd heard those words before from the other workers. The exact same words. Delivered in the same cadence, with the same gravely voice. Now... those words were coming from him, "Kid's eating me out of house and home already!"

Both men laughed. But as the other worker stepped away, Ethan's eyes widened.

"Fuck... no..." His thoughts were slower than they had been just two minutes prior. But so was his anxiety. Everything suddenly felt so much simpler, "La-lacrosse... lacrosse... not this..." He repeated for as long as his mind let him.

The pressure behind his eyes returned immediately. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the lumber until his knuckles turned white. He tried to hold onto the panic, tried to hold onto the certainty that something terrible was happening to him, but even that feeling seemed to be slipping away. The fear was still there. He could feel it. Yet every second it felt smaller, duller, less important than the work waiting around him.

"Joe!" He looked up automatically. One of the workers waved him over, "Quit daydreaming. Grab this end."

He did as he was told and the pressure vanished. Relief flooded him, washing away the confusion, the panic...

"Appreciate it," the worker said.

"No problem." The answer came naturally, "I ain't no slacker."

The two men carried the load across the site together while talking about football, kids, weekend plans, and just how good the cold beer at the end of the day would taste. Across the yard, one of the reps glanced up from his clipboard.

"Huh... Looks like Ohio's getting him just in time."

"I guess so..."

Joe adjusted the lumber on his shoulder and laughed at something one of the other workers said. The sound blended effortlessly with the rest of the crew as they disappeared into the noise of the job site.

(Pride Month Special)

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with gay dudes and gay chicks but I just don’t understand why you guys need a whole month? What’s there to celebrate? It’s not like we have a pride month for straight people.” Kyle mused as he scuffed his trainer against the floor.

Garrett had to do his best not to immediately roll his eyes at his clueless roommate. “It’s not just about being part of the LGBTQ. It’s about celebrating how far we’ve and everyone that came before us have come. And how far we still need to go until we get real equality. It’s not just about celebrating how much we like being gay. Come on Kyle…” Garrett did his best to explain things to Kyle but it was clear most of what he was saying went right over the straight skater bro’s head.

“I dunno brah. I feel like you guys have it pretty equal nowadays. I see gay dudes, like, everywhere.” Kyle retorted, his obliviousness somehow making him sound dumber than he already was. It was clear he didn’t mean anything he was saying in a hateful or derogatory way. It was just the ignorance of a straight man shining bright.

“Not in the slightest. I wish that were true but we’re still a ways off equal rights.” Garrett insisted. “I get it’s probably hard to grasp if you’re not actually gay but please just trust me.”

Kyle shrugged. “Whatever you say man. I still think it’s a bit over the top. You do you though I guess.”

Garrett watched as Kyle sauntered off towards his bedroom. He couldn’t help but sigh a little. He could swear they’d had this exact same debate last year during Pride month. And the year before that. Yet every time, no matter how well Garrett explained it, the reason as to why it was so important always seemed to fly over Kyle’s head. Garrett liked the guy but Kyle really could be dense sometimes.

Unbeknownst to them both, a great and powerful warlock had been spying on them. Mr Wavell. Invisible as he usually was. He’d been in search of his next experiment and he couldn’t help but think he’d found just the right guy in Kyle. He was cute for sure. Lean but very hairy from head to toe with some nice facial hair that really got Wavell’s cock pumping. Not to mention that dumb skater bro attitude was enough to make Wavell want to bend him over the side of his bed right here and now before fucking him until the sun comes up.

Immediately Wavell began to think of all the things he could possibly do to Kyle. He could force him to swap bodies with Garrett. He could get him to hulk out of his baggy clothes. Perhaps even add some fat to go with all that hair and make him into a proper bear of a man. Or what if he aged Kyle up to his mid forties just to see how much of a daddy he’d become in years to come. Kyle seemed like the type to age like fine wine after all. However, after the conversation he’d just witnessed, Wavell soon landed on the perfect change for a man like this.

As Kyle laid on his bed scrolling through his phone, Wavell held out a hand towards him. Purple magic began to sparkle around his fingertips before shooting out towards the oblivious dolt before him. Kyle was none the wiser, his mortal eyes unable to see or detect the magic without Wavell’s say so. Before long Kyle’s entire body was wrapped in a soft purple glow as he continued to mindlessly scroll past images of half naked women mixed into his feed. The magic pulsed a few times around his figure before focusing down to concentrate on three precise points on his body.

His brain, his cock and his ass.

Kyle couldn’t help but shift around awkwardly on the bed as his ass began to transform first. It was the most subtle of the three but still necessary in Wavell’s eyes. Those unremarkable fuzzy cheeks he had hidden away in his baggy shorts started to swell and perk up. Soon gaining a bubblier shape that would jiggle modestly with any step he took. Soon becoming a shapely and supple ass, the likes of which anyone would be tempted to smack just for the sake of watching it ripple.

The 27 year old was none the wiser to his first change. However he couldn’t help but grunt a little when the magic pulsing around his crotch began to morph his cock. All his life, Kyle had been blessed with a horse cock. It was part of the reason he always wore such baggy clothes. Anything too tight would run the risk of looking obscene with how large his manhood was. But that was about to change.

9 hefty inches. That’s how big Kyle’s dick was when he got excited. Even still a staggering 6 inches while soft. Enough to give any man all the confidence he needs in life. But now as Wavell’s magic works its was in and around Kyle’s prised male organ, that intimidating size began to slip away. Slowly losing inch after inch alongside some of its formerly impressive girth. Kyle barely noticed. Only scratching his groin in oblivious confusion while continuing to scroll his phone.

Before long Kyle’s once mighty cock had shrunken down to about half of its former greatness. 5 inches hard and 3 inches soft. Much more modest. It was generous considering Wavell had all the power to give Kyle a tiny little micro dick but he decided not to be quite so cruel. Still it was a far cry from the cock Kyle had once had. It doesn't matter though. Soon enough Kyle wouldn't need a large impressive cock anyway.

With Kyle’s cock and ass now changed, his brain was last on the chopping block. The magic swirling around the dome of his head began to intensify as it reached inside of his mind and wormed around until it found what it was looking for. Kyle’s sexuality. The previous two changes had just been for Wavell’s enjoyment. This one was what he was really in it for.

Kyle found himself feeling oddly faint and lightheaded and Wavell’s magic systematically removed any attraction Kyle once had towards women. Draining him of any kind of sexual magnetism for the opposite sex until he was nothing more than a blank slate in that regard. Ready to be remodeled as the warlock saw fit.

Then came the fun part. Wavell had the pleasure of refilling Kyle’s sexuality with a pure unbridled lust for cock. Before long his brain had become completely fogged over with thoughts and images of handsome men, both young and old. His heart raced as he failed to stop himself from feeling hot and flushed at the idea of touching another man’s hairy chest or kissing his biceps. And of course sucking dick. Wavell would make sure to plant these desires so deep inside Kyle’s brain that soon the mere idea of getting fucked by another man would feel like a necessity to him. Like it was something he simply couldn’t live without.

Kyle had become a writhing horny mess on the bed. His phone discarded to one side as he reached a hand down towards his crotch. His diminished cock was as stiff as could be and sensitive to the touch. He reached underneath the waist band to grip it gently. He should’ve noticed how much smaller it was now but somehow as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, it felt normal…

There was part of his mind that was trying to tell him that something was very wrong. Trying to remind him that he was a straight man despite how much he wanted to bust a nut at the thought of swallowing another dude's cum. Trying to remind him that he liked women as he arched his back at the idea of being speared up the ass by an enormous cock. His mortal brain did everything it could to warn him. But it wasn’t nearly enough to stand against the might of Mr Wavell’s potent magic.

Soon enough Kyle’s shorts were down around his ankles as he found himself jerking off furiously to the onslaught of hot men that now plagued his mind. He’d turned over on the bed so that his face was on the pillow with his ass up in the air while he reached underneath to touch himself. He envisioned some kind of hunk or daddy coming up behind him and rubbing their dick in between his thick hairy ass cheeks. Teasing his hole gently before finally sliding in and giving him the pounding of a lifetime. It was all he could think about as his former life as a straight man seemed to slip through his fingers.

Wavell nodded to himself as he watched, pleased with his handiwork as always. He absolutely could’ve left it there and moved on after taking some time to enjoy the sight. But when he thought of a way to make this even better, he just couldn’t help himself.

He left Kyle where he was in the bedroom before phasing through the walls and into the living room where Garrett was sat. He was flipping through the TV looking for something to watch, completely unaware of what’d happened to his roommate. The unsuspecting man was equally unaware of how the warlock was about to change him as well.

Mr Wavell’s magic reached out towards Garrett similar to how it’d reached Kyle. Coiling gently around Garrett’s lean but fit frame until he was completely submerged in the warmth of Wavell’s sparkling purple magic. Though, just like Kyle, he couldn’t see it. What he would see however was the transformation it was about to bestow upon him.

Garrett’s change was no doubt going to be much more physical than Kyle’s had been, evident by how the magic seemed to spread itself evenly across his entire body rather than focusing on any specific spots. Then, with a smirk, Wavell used his power to begin aging Garrett up.

Prior to this Garrett had always been just a couple years younger than Kyle, having turned 25 a few months back. But not anymore as Garrett found himself growing older by the second. Quickly rising up through his twenties and into his thirties. He had no idea what was happening to him at first. Only that he felt this bizarre build up of energy pulsing around his body in an oddly pleasurable reverberating wave. Hardly even noticing the way his skin began to look more weathered or the feeling of wrinkles starting to form around his eyes and forehead. Or even how his hairline started to recede more noticeably as he started to approach his forties.

Garrett let out a low and satisfied grumble as he allowed his head to fall back against the couch. He should’ve questioned this weird and unnatural sensation but it felt too damn good. So much so that his eyes fluttered shut just dark brown hair began to see wisps of silver that didn’t waste any time multiplying as he continued along his forties. Even the mild hair on his chest and face started to gain a salt and pepper touch.

And finally Garrett reached his early fifties. Luckily for him, the rapid aging came to a screeching halt soon after. He was left looking like a delicious dad who most would agree was a dilf that could absolutely get it. Still lean and fit but now with a bit more mature edge. It was immediately clear that Garrett was just one of those men that age like fine wine. Only looking better as they look older. Wavell had just helped him skip to the good part. But he wasn’t finished.

“There’s still room to dad-ify you a little more I think…” Wavell muttered to himself. So he urged his magic on just a little bit further to keep moulding Garrett’s body.

The result of this was for Garrett’s stomach to rumble loudly. It was an omen for what was to come as seconds later, his once slender physique swiftly began to swell with fat. His lean muscle softening slightly under layers of string capable flesh. His growing arms filled out the sleeves of his shirt slightly. Those ballooning thighs strained the seams of his pants. His once hard chest couldn’t help but sag ever so slightly. But most notably of all, his belly started to expand until he was left with a nice hefty dad gut.

Wavell made sure to add a few final touches like making sure to fill out Garrett’s face with a little bit of chub as well as granting him a nice dad butt to match his belly. But even after adding all that sexy new weight to Garrett’s frame, Wavell was still hungry for more dadification.

“Hmmmm… How about some extra fur.” Wavell shrugged before snapping his fingers.

The magic around Garrett glowed brightly again. Then in an instant, newfound body hair began to sprout around his chubby new dad bod. Swirling around his chest and stomach the most but also giving his legs, ass and arms a good helping too. He still wasn’t quite as hairy as Kyle but he wasn’t far off. Especially as his beard grew fuller than ever before.

“Almost perfect. Just one last thing…”

The purple glow moved now and concentrated only on Garrett’s groin. Swirling desperately around his bulge as it began to flood his dick with transformative energy similar to what’d happened to Kyle. Only Garret’s cock didn’t get smaller. Quite the opposite. It started to grow rapidly. Getting longer and girthier while his balls get fatter and fuller. Not stopping until Garrett was carrying an enormous drooling daddy cock between his legs.

Wavell grinned. “There. Now that’s a daddy.”

As the magic finally began to dissipate, so did the warm pleasurable sensation that’d been keeping Garrett distracted. As such he found himself opening his eyes again slowly only to look wide eyed down at his new form.

“W-w-w-what the f-FUCK!” He roared in a panic. Even his voice was different. More gravely and aged. His hands flew to his midsection, grabbing his belly in disbelief. He was lost for words with no idea how to react beyond simply squeezing his gut a few times to confirm it was real. Every instinct was screaming at him that it was impossible. And yet… he couldn’t even remember what his body was supposed to look like? Wavell had already taken the step of removing most of Garrett’s knowledge of his younger self. Before long he’ll believe he’s always been this thick older daddy. But a little extra push to help get his mind off things couldn’t hurt right?

At last Wavell undid the invisibility shimmer on himself, allowing Garrett to see the warlock standing before him.

“Whoa!? W-where did you come from?!? Who are you?!?!” Garrett shouted in a panic, understandably so. Unfortunately he wouldn’t get an answer to his question.

Before he had a chance to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening, the suited stranger before him reached out and grabbed either side of Garrett’s head. Mr Wavell’s eyes began to glow a deep violet as he cradled Garrett’s head in his hands. Garrett sank under his control in a matter of seconds. Nobody could resist his gaze.

“You love being a daddy. Ultimately it’s your life's purpose, isn’t it?” Wavell told Garrett like it was a fact.

“I love being… a daddy. It’s my purpose…” Garrett repeated back to Wavell

“And right now your boy is sitting all alone in his room, begging for someone to go and satisfy his hole. He needs your cock Garrett. He needs daddy’s cock.” Wavell’s words sunk in nice and deep.

“My boy… he needs my cock…” Garrett repeated again, dick hardening slightly against his pants in response.

“You want to be a good daddy don’t you?” The warlock asked.

Garrett nodded slowly but surely.

“Then get in there and fill your boy with a nice fat load to show him just how much he matters to you. Understand?” Wavell smiled.

“Yes… sir.” Garrett confirmed.

Wavell leaned in and kissed Garrett on the forehead “Good man. I know you’ll do well.” He said before slowly pulling his hands back and releasing Garrett from his gaze. “Now get in there.”

Garrett didn’t waste a second. He practically leapt up from the couch before making his way down the hallway towards Kyle’s room. Wavell followed behind him, watching as Garrett opened the door only to be greeted by a glorious sight. Kyle’s ass was still up in there air, waving side to side as he jerked himself off. Who could possibly resist an invitation like that. Garrett couldn’t stop himself from pouncing on Kyle’s furry ass. The first thing he did was stuff his face nice and deep before eating out his hole like a pro.

At first Kyle was a little confused as to what was happening. The hot daddy that’d just walked into his room looked weirdly like his roommate, only older and fatter. Was it Garrett’s dad he wondered? He was too honey to keep questioning it though. All he knew was that the universe had blessed him with a hot daddy who was eager to fulfil his need for cock. And he welcomed it readily.

After recasting the invisibility shimmer on himself, Wavell took a seat on a nearby chair next to the bed. Watching tentatively as Garrett worked his way to finally plunging his huge dad cock inside Kyle’s hole. The sensation of which caused Kyle’s much smaller dick to pulse harder than it ever could’ve from masturbation. Before long Kyle’s face was buried deep into his pillow while Garrett made sure to drive his cock down to the hilt with every mighty thrust. More than eager to breed and claim his new boy.

Wavell smiled. He couldn’t help but feel like these two were going to enjoy their lives a hell of a lot more now. And as for Kyle and his attitude towards pride month, it’s probably safe to say that he might have a change of tone by next year when he’s going to parades and celebrating with his new daddy.

Jason hadn't been this excited in, well, forever. He got home to find a package on his front step. The package was black and yellow with the words 'Bear Factor' written on the front. It was the first sponsorship he had ever gotten.

He started posting on only fans a few months earlier. He was fired from his job, living paycheck to paycheck, using whatever money he had on a shitty gym membership. That's when he realized he could use his jacked body to make some money online. To his surprised, it worked. It wasn't some magical solution to all his problems, but it was better than nothing. He quickly worked his way up to start renting an apartment, rather than living out of his car.

The moment he knew he would be set was when he got an email from a company called Bear Factor. They had a big market in gay men, and Jason's audience was mostly gay men, so it was a match made in heaven.

As soon as he got inside, he tore up the box and pulled out a small grey shirt with the company logo on it. Without a second thought, he threw it on.

It wrapped tightly around his thick chest and didn't even reach past his belly button.

"I didn't think it would be this small." Jason chuckled.

It was different from his normal attire, but it was growing on him. He liked the idea of people being able to see his huge muscles through the shirt. It was starting to get a bit uncomfortable though. Jason noticed it was constricting his breathing, and the fabric started to irritate his skin. He tried to pull the shirt off, but it would budge.

He began to panic when his stomach suddenly swelled. In an instant, his six pack had ballooned into a massive ball gut that protruded out in front of him. He didn't even have time to react before his chest puffed out, making his pecs look more like man tits. His new shirt rode further up his gut and wrapped tightly around his thick man tits, making his large nipples poke through the fabric.

"Oh fuck!" Jason moaned in an unusually gruff voice.

His already strong arms grew thicker as his hands became strong and wide. And the definition in his back disappeared under a thick layer of fat, making his love handles visible from his back.

Jason's legs soon followed suit. His gym shorts tore to shreds as his thighs exploded with fat and muscle, and as the ripped fabric fell to the ground, his dick swelled to a hulking 9 inches, threatening to break through his poor jock strap. And as if that wasn't enough, his already perky ass doubled in size, growing two hefty globes that gave his body an S shaped curve.

Not even his face was safe. His cheeks puffed out as fat filled his face. His hairline receded while his beard thickened, and the hair kept spreading. It spread down to his chest and across his gut, leaving a dusting of hair across his previously hairless body.

As the transformation came to an end, Jason proudly rubbed his man hands across his thick gut. His massive cock jumped as he thought about what he could do with this body. He whipped out his phone and snapped a picture, ready to post it to his only fans.

Your father always said you needed to learn how to change a tire but you always laughed at him. Now you werent laughing. Your car is stock, all four tires blown after driving over something sharp in the road. Its mid day but the closest sign of civilization is miles away, you need to start walking now if youre going to find anyone before it gets dark and the creatures come out. Youre not built for this, youre a classic 20something twink, thin, weak, long hair, and no body hair. Youve spent years of your life getting laser to remove any sign of stubble. Youre smart, an academic, and a big beard or hairy ape arms dont go well with the imagine youre trying to potray. You want to look civilized, smart, not like these blue collar long bearded country guys. Theyre only good for one thing, the occasional hookup. After walking for a bit you come across a cabin surrounded by a few small sheds. An older man is sitting on his porch smoking a pipe. Great, hes one of those blue collar guys, big beard, pipe, baseball cap. His beard is mostly white with streaks fo brown still holding on by the cheeks and upper lip. Theres no visible skin on his lower face, no lips, nothing, everything is drowning in thick wire hairs. If the context were different youd think about trying to hook up with him but better not to, some of the guys out here are homophobic.

"Hey kid! You lost?"

Kid? Youre not a kid. "Im 26!" You say.

"26?" The guy laughs. "You don't look it. Where's your face fur?"

The word 'face fur' makes you shiver first with ick and second with something else... something nice? No. "I broke down! Can you help out?"

"Didnt your daddy ever teach you how to change a tire?" He asks. He taps a chair next to him on the porch. "Sit with me while I finish this pipe and Ill get you fixed up." You, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, join him. "Want a pipe?"

"No, Im good thanks."

"So youre a stogie man?"

"No."

"Cigarette?"

"Nothing."

The porch reeks of tobacco from the man's pipe. You sit with him and he asks where youre from, you tell him the city. You try not to gag on the smell but the longer you sit with him the more you get used to it. You're getting hotter too so you take off your jacket leaving you in just your tank top.

"At least you broke down on a nice day." The man says.

"Yeah," you say, "could be worse." Does your voice sound different? Does it have a bit of an accent? Does it sound deeper? More manly?

The man leans in. "Sure you don't want to smoke anything?"

His face is so close to yours, you cant stop looking at his beard. Its so long, you wonder how long it took him to grow it. Your dick begins to harden in your pants. The man notices.

"Getting excited, big boy?"

The words 'big boy' shoot through you like a shot of vodka. It makes you feel great. You get even harder. Then you realize where you are and try to move to hid it.

"No, no," the man says, "show daddy." He smiles and you get harder.

"Can we just," your voice is defiantly different, it catches you off guard, "uhhh."

The man smiles. "Hard to think?"

"No! No! I'm smart!" You say, but you dont sound smart... you sound dumb. You look at the mans pipe, his beard.

The man holds out the pipe. "Take a hit, big boy. You think so hard, you should take a rest." The smoke tastes manly. The man is holding you as you smoke, one hand scratching your chin, one around the throbbing bulge in your jeans. "That's it, big boy."

You just make grunts, stupid pleased sounds like an animal. You dont notice the hair growing your arms, or the way they inflate turning into solid trunks of muscle. You realize how the sound of the mans scratching changes. When he first started scratching your chin it sounded like flesh on flesh but now it's different. You bring your hand up to your chin... is that hair?

"What are you doing to me?" You stand up, your voice deep and accented now. "Stop it!"

The man smiles. "Come on Big Boy, you love your beard." He points at a window where you can see your reflection. Its your pride and joy."

You don't recognize the man looking back at you. His expression is so dumb. His face has lines from working in the sun, his hairline is receding, and a thick bush of a beard spills out covering the lower half of his face. Its thick, dense, with a mustache covering his upper lip. Only his lower lip, your lower lip, is visible. You bring your hand up to touch it, to make sure it's real. It is. This is you. Your face is drowning in beard. You want to scream, to fight it, but with that same dead fish eyed look you watch as your hand rubs your bulge. You want to fight it, your brain wants to fight it, but your body only cares about one thing, sex.

The man, your new daddy, smiles. "Good think I put those jacks out on the road. I didnt think Id catch such a wonderful big boy. Youll be perfect." Your last memory before you fully give in is of your rubbing your bulge, looking at your new self with a dumb expression, and saying "Thank you Daddy."

Let’s see, last second fit check. Hello sexy, who let you out on Halloween? Boys better look out tonight, because I could use some arm candy to get me through cuffing season.

*ding*

Meeting at the Edge. You ready yet?

Speaking of arm candy…

Yeah, omw rn

Seriously, no costume?

What? I’m a bear. Bottoms love that shit. See, I’ve got a little tail and everything

Whatever, just get over here. And no candy on your way. I’m not dealing with you when you’re sugared up

I just rolled my eyes as I locked my door. It was one time in college and he never let me live it down. When was he going to let it go.

The bar was packed as expected, the music was hot, and the guests were hotter. Guys were basically drooling over my biceps all night. I was up at the bar grabbing a vodka cran for this blonde himbo wearing nothing but mesh when I noticed the obligatory bowl of candy. I had been good on my diet this month, but candy was a weakness. Surely one wouldn’t hurt. I popped a Skittle in my mouth and savored the chew…

The next thing I know, a stream of light is blasting my face from my apartment window. Ah fuck, instant headache. I feel bloated and sore as I slowly wobble out of bed. Shit, I don’t even remember drinking more than a vodka soda last night. A churn in my stomach turns my gaze to the floor. A shiny plastic and shredded paper dot the floor. God, there goes macros for the week. I stumble to the bathroom, flick on the light, and- what the fuck. Dude, I’m freaking massive. I’m not just bloated. I’m fifty pounds heavier. Screw cuffing season, it looks like I’ve been through bulking season twice. And the hair. I’ll never get smooth. What happened? A pack of candy couldn’t do this! I’m a fucking monster. Oh, but wait a sec. My arms look massive. Let me just…

Dude, why’s that kinda hot though. Like in a cute kind of way. The beard is working too. And my pecs are popping. It’s getting me kinda horny thinking about it. Oh shit, this isn’t just horny. Dude, I’m on fire. This new hammer is swinging. God, I’m so hot, even under all this lard. Fuck, who knew a bulk would look so good on me. The way it all moves and flexes and jiggles together is just magic.

I looked at the bathroom counter and saw a lone Twix bar resting beside my razor. Something about the two felt like a choice. Start fighting whatever this was or embracing it. My mouth watered at the thought. I greedily snatched the sweet from the counter and devoured it whole. My stomach lurched forward just a little, my beard grew thicker, and my muscles flexed underneath. If one piece of Halloween candy could do this, there were a whole lot more on sale today. I walked out into my bedroom to get changed.

I glanced at my phone, where a message from last night was showing:

Dude, I told you no sugar. You never fucking listen to me. When you crash, you better not come crying to me to help you put your life back together

My thick fingers tapped at the tiny screen, snapping a photo for my friend:

No way to crash if you never stop

Stefan was confused when he showed up to the backyard barbecue party. It was supposed to be a frat event, but all the guys there were middle aged fat dudes in their 50s - it was like partying with a bunch of dads.

Still, free beer was free beer. When one of the old guys offered him a bottle, Stefan accepted graciously. He chugged the cold bottle down, finding it especially refreshing in the summer heat. Stefan was a little embarrassed as he let out a loud belch, clutching his belly which suddenly felt bloated.

Stefan gasped when his stomach inflated into a round beach ball, his abs being replaced with a beer belly. His defined pecs quickly followed suit, growing fat and sagging with additional weight. Dark black hairs covered his arms and legs while his tight ass swelled outwards into a big round rear.

Stefan's face aged, remaining handsome but maturing as wrinkles started to form. His hair began to gray as a bushy beard sprouted from his previously clean shaven jaw.