I'd like to think I'm pretty good looking. I hit the gym regularly, I take care of myself, and I'm very lucky to be in a great relationship with a loving boyfriend.
It can be a little tricky in the bedroom since we both prefer to bottom, and his sex drive is a lot higher than mine, but other than that, life's good! Or so I thought.
Turns out, my boyfriend has a massive daddy kink.
I kinda suspected it a while given his dating history; I mean, I'm the youngest guy he's ever dated, and I'm 31. Well, *was* the youngest guy he's ever dated is a little more appropriate.
It also turns out that he's got some witchcraft in his bloodline. Nothing too crazy... except for specific times of the year, where the fabric of reality is thinnest. Which happened to fall on Valentine's Day.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up in a body 2 decades older than what I was used to.
I called him in a panic, and he guiltily confessed that it was all his fault. It was supposed to be a one day thing, and I shouldn't have remembered any of it. Except something had gone haywire - he managed to change reality to where I was now a silver fox, but he ran out of juice before he could set a time limit, or make my mind match this new body... and this new body's urges.
See, he didn't just conjure up a reality where I was a daddy. He conjured up a reality where I was a kinky, constantly horny, dom top of a daddy who can't stop thinking about putting his boy on all fours.
My boy's loving every moment of it. At first, I tried to get him to turn us back, but... shit, I've started loving it too.
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Agent Fisher reports on his roommate's transformative descent into being a father figure straight from a 90's sitcom as he tries to pretend he's not into it.
Dad and Bear Tf's are always some of my favorites to write and this one is no different! Took the flavor but not the style of a certain foundation! Enjoy this daddification from the POV of a desperate agent who has failed his station and by the end suffers the same transformative consequences. -Occam
This is a report from Special Agent Fisher on a previously unidentified anomalous artifact. Delivered to my apartment while I was away on an expedition, a VHS tape labeled Dadâs Den was opened and watched by my friend and roommate who, unaware he should resist, succumbed to its effects and in time was replaced by what can only be described as a stereotypical dad. As if he were straight out of the video tape he couldnât help but watch.
Given I was on foundation business during the encounter and have already suffered through the loss of my dear friend Clayton, I would request leniency. I submit this thorough report of the VHS tapes effects as evidence and when guaranteed both my personal safety and continued employment I will deliver both the video footage and the anomalous artifact in question.
I understand how this will be perceived but know I only hold the foundationâs best interests at heart. This is simply not my fault and I refuse to be demoted due to a situation out of my hands that I have already suffered beyond measure from. If anything I deserve a promotion for resisting the tapeâs allure and effects, though at present I simply want guaranteed and continued safety for Clayton and myself.Â
Please read the following account of what I have dubbed AA-0646: âThe Fatherly Filmâ before coming to any decisions.
Consummate professional that I am, my installed cameras were able to capture Claytonâs entire encounter with the anomaly. Delivered in a box addressed to my true name, Clayton was none the wiser. Under the impression that I worked for the Parks service, my roommate was entirely unguarded when he decided to just open the box. Perhaps this is a failing of your protocol regarding cohabitants but I digress.
As soon as the package was in his hands there began an audio static in the recording. Isolating it I am able to confirm it was the sound of a laugh track, like you might find on the very same schlocky sitcom that is now in my friendâs hands. At this unfortunate point it is my professional opinion that it is already too late for my poor roommate. Proof of this is the dusty VHS player that appeared under our tv when he tore open the box.
When he moves to the television Clayton inserts the tape into a VHS player we didnât have moments ago before flopping onto the couch. Then the true effects begin as Clayton is completely lost to the screen. Hardly moving for hours as the tape plays far longer than any cassette could possibly last, Clayton doesnât blink as dated jokes and shoddy sets beam into his mind with no end.
Previously my roommate could hardly go half an hour without pulling out his phone to aimlessly scroll. When Iâd at last convinced him to watch Fellowship of the Ring with me I had to constantly get on his ass for getting distracted by notifications and summarily doomscrolling. Iâd be annoyed at him suddenly finding attention span to spare for this drivel were I not distraught by what happens in the following days.
After about six hours of this, Clayton finally starts to doze off. Eyes that were locked on the screen despite their ever-present glaze flutter shut before closing altogether. At the very same time the screen turns off. Overnight little of note occurs. Head lolling back against the couch, the sound of his heavy breathing can barely be caught on my cameras.
Every so often his mouth hanging open twitches into a grin as hands resting on his stomach scratch aimlessly. It feels safe to say this is when true biological changes begin. Never one to grow stubble by the time daylight arrives there is some darker fuzz surrounding his mouth and scattered across his jawline.
When he at last awakens, decidedly earlier than Iâve seen the perpetual night owl ever rise on his own, his arms twitch and rise as his mouth opens to audibly yawn. The quiet cracking sounds of his arms stretching as some heft is revealed on his waistline is covered by the shockingly loud sound of him yawning.
At this point I had hoped he was free from the tape as when he stands thereâs a clear look of confusion on his face. Clayton clearly recognized something wrong was happening. If only I was there. Wandering into the kitchen, Clayton appears to grab a pizza from the fridge and return to the living room. There he removes his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before doing some very noisy stretching.
Body bared itâs suddenly obvious that even without actively watching the tape that he has continued to change. Clayton was always complaining about his inability to grow any body hair, whining that it makes him feel like less of a man. Clearly this desire is being preyed upon as a treasure trail suddenly begins to crawl up his already slightly heavier stomach.
Even more apparent is the generous spread that has begun to prickle across his thin chest as it too starts to grow, having been freed from the shirt he slept in. Returning to the couch and sinking back into the same position he slept in, the new weight on his upper body settles in a manner I personally would describe as more attractive heavier.
Thoughtlessly he reaches for the remote and puts his new favorite show back on. Entranced once more, now that his whole chest is out itâs clear that Clayton is visibly growing. Frequently his fingers scratch his chest as each twitchy grin from what heâs watching shoots a few new strands of hair to scatter across his developing pecs.Â
So too does a small but wide treasure trail begin inching upwards, onto his belly as the distracted man just eats and laughs at jokes he must have heard half a dozen times by now. A few times he raises an arm behind his head to reveal the most drastic hair growth thus far.Â
The action takes a tad more effort than Iâd expect, surely due to the new mass on his bulking arms, or perhaps heâs already growing less flexible. At any rate, there is an unmistakable bush of hair hiding under his arms. Slightly shiny on the film, the strands look to almost be as long as those on his head. Itâs quite, well, distracting.Â
While I remain physically and mentally unaffected from my briefest of encounters with Clayton, something about his scent has left my mind foggy if I focus too much on his pheromones, if that is the correct word. It was quite overwhelming, I- letâs just say itâs fortunate that such an esteemed employee encountered this brutish bear of a dad, this anomaly that is. Keep this in mind as you continue to read, Iâm a perfect employee. You canât just replace me.
Moving on, on day two his changes accelerate. Though it took all night for his first few patches of body hair to bloom, now that heâs mindlessly watching Dadâs Den again they are flourishing. In one episode his chest is wholly overtaken by thick chest hair. By the next it connects with his paltry treasure trail before that too expands to cover his still bulking stomach.Â
And as he continues changing he laughs all the more. Wide smile on his face as his lips are tickled with stubble, Clayton rubs his stomach as each guffaw is louder than the last. Ruffling the dense coverage on his stomach, his hands canât help but reach under his waistline for a scratch or two.
Doing so a distinctly different glazed look overtakes his eyes. Still smiling blankly, Claytonâs head lolls back as he kicks off his pants to expose legs that have grown their own garden of fur as theyâve been hidden from sight. When at last the jeans fall to the floor his feet bounce back a few sizes larger as the coat atop them is just as thick as that on his calves and thighs.Â
Hand still seemingly magnetized to his tangled bush and apparently needy cock, the expression on his face shifts to one of desperation. Leaning back so far I can barely make out him biting his lips as some spit trickles into his beard. Core twitching as the bulge in his pants grows heavier, and heavier I-Â
Apologies. Again.Â
After Clayton tuckers himself out, he falls asleep in exactly the same position he has still yet to move from. One sullied hand stuffed in his pants, the other behind his head allowing his sweaty pit to aerate our living room. Itâs unclear what precisely launches the next wave of changes but it is at this point that our home begins to change.
Something of a neat-freak before he began watching, itâs increasingly clear his cleanliness will not survive the change. Morphing into a man almost proud of his filth, the pizza box falls to the floor next to a hamper of clothes that have clearly already been worn more than once. His cozy antique love seat gives way to a gaudy la-z boy recliner as our once quaint living room shifts irreparably into a dad cave.
That night, in between snores that rise to a degree loud enough to almost shake my camera, Clayton also begins murmuring in his sleep. It quickly becomes clear to me that heâs telling jokes. Repeating lines from the show. I donât make an effort to listen to them of course, theyâre always almost annoyingly bad. Hereâs a recording of him for an example:
Ah well thatâs a pretty good one no? Suppose I could include a few more. If youâre interested? Men-toes. Heh. I uhm- Back to it, of course.Â
In sleep he continues laughing at each and every one of these jokes he dreams up or retrieves from Dadâs Den. And with each reverberation of struggled snores and raucous guffaws he bloats all the larger, and ages all the sightlier. By midnight his coat has grown enough to cover him like a proper pelt.
The sweaty bush in his pits connects with the blanket of even coverage painted from his neckline to his pubes. Perpetual stubble that now decorates his face is slightly speckled white as it reaches upward to connect with messy hair that is beginning to thin. Meaty muscle continues to pack on just as fast as the mouth-watering heft growing on his gut.
The next day he awakes before sunrise. Launching into a massive stretch and not yawning so much as yelling, his back cracks wider as he moans at the feeling of relief. Scratching his heavier ass to reveal a few lengthy curls decorating his backside, Clayton meanders into the kitchen. His footsteps fall like flippers as our apartmentâs new wood panelling creaks under his weight.
Jokes about rising and grinding and what a brew-tiful morning it is resound in the kitchen accompanied by giggling crackling deeper. Until now his voice had maintained at least a familiar tone but with each pun to nobody itâs like his voicebox is aging as his resting tone sinks deeper and deeper. And credit where itâs due I do find myself enjoying his puns more and more.
When the morning sun does stream into the den, Clayton returns with a black cup of coffee. Iâd be surprised heâs able to stomach it given his preference for incredibly sweet lattes, but the grand reveal of his new fatherly form is far too stunning to describe anything else. Uhm, scientifically speaking.
Resting his massive feet on our coffee table, Clayton leans back and starts downing his dark roast as the television just starts up without him even needing to lift a finger. Now mouthing along to the dadâs dialogue as if he were voicing it himself itâs clear my roommate is more Dad than his old self.
Crowâs feet etch into his eyes as smile lines trail down his cheeks, hidden his thick stubble. Itâs difficult for me to tear my eyes away from his masculine form. I didnât even notice at first that the dad- that Clayton had changed into a jock, but as his much larger dick twitches under the tight fabric. As his toes curl and the arches of his feet crack wider. As his bulky biceps bulge larger with each raise of the steaming dark cup, streaking into his beard before he wipes it with his rough hand fuck shit
Clearly there are some hazards involved with watching this process but I can guarantee that there is nothing memetic or mind-altering besides watching the tape itself. Which I have taken care to completely block from my recordings. Youâre welcome again.Â
Back to it the changes in our apartment have similarly accelerated, where we once had posters and framed art there now exist bizarre family portraits. Clayton with some college aged offspring though from the best I can tell there isnât a single one with a wife. Perhaps related to the plot of the show? Perhaps because my roommateâs gay. Not to sound like a broken record but if you want any further of my hypotheses you know what to do.
Skipping ahead, Iâd figured that his changes would have slowed since to my eye his dilfy form had reached its apex, but I was quickly proven wrong. Today as his hairline continues to thin and his body hair continues to thicken, his body starts to truly bulk. Iâd heard of dad strength but itâs almost ridiculous watching him grow heavier and stronger.
Eyes almost rolling back into his head Claytonâs stomach finally grows into a proper dad bod as heavy pecs hang atop it, bloating themselves into the perfect canvas for his thick curls. Beside the growing barrel of a torso rest arms increasingly patterned with throbbing veins and twitching with strength.
His forearms are covered with the type of hair youâd balk at in person. I could hardly believe it when I did see them in person, theyâre like a second layer of skin lifted almost an inch off the arms, so thick at points you can barely see the veiny, muscled guns beneath. To say nothing of the very same curls trailing up his massive biceps. How they twitch with the slightest movement of his sausage fingers. How they grow larger as he continues watching the show. As he continues watching. As-Â
Ugh god this report is giving me such a headache.
Over the following day it seems the anomaly starts skipping and fading away on the, much larger, TV. Clayton doesnât seem to react though, he continues just mouthing the lines to himself as he goes about the house. Grunting with every movement like a man decades older than he should be, my new fatherly roommate ambles about with a toolbox I swear heâs never lugged out before as he goes about any chores that donât involve tidying up.
Slight baldspot on his increasingly speckled head and thick hair crawling up his ass from tacky cargo shorts, itâs at some point this day which Iâd say the artifact has finished its dirty work. As Clayton interacts with confusion to whatever aspects of his old self remain they rapidly adjust to fit his new life.Â
Everything in his wardrobe lengthens more than a few sizes before morphing and restylizing to lose even the slightest amount of fashionability. The man oozes practicality as much as he does raw masculine sex appeal. Soon thereâs not a trace of our old home, even my bedroom seems to have been corrupted into that of a son whoâs gone off to college.Â
Iâve yet to do an investigation as to the nature of his apparent new family but should I be allowed to once more use the agencyâs resources. And, to prove Iâm acting in good faith, there is one remaining object from his past, a photo of the two of us together which is now an image of myself and him in his current form. It was this I found him looking at when I at last returned from my mission.
He set it down softly when I entered and leaned against the wall. Obviously I instantly knew something terrible had happened. I tried to convince him to drop everything and come to the lab but he wouldnât listen. I- he just kept saying these stupid, stupid jokes. Obviously I know now what happened but even then I felt like I was talking with a character rather than a person. Rather than my roommate.
But I couldnât really look away. The way his weight shifted as he moved, the musk that filled the whole place- I know I said watching his transformation wasnât mind affecting but being in his presence very well could be. Even now I find myself craving that scent. God he was so fucking-
I digress. As soon as I found myself starting to enjoy the shitty jokes he kept firing off, I shook out of it and realized Claytonâs expression shifted from when I first entered. At first he looked blankly at myself before his eyes softened as if he seemed to recognize me. Not as his friend or roommate though, no. Instead he said his kiddos had been telling him about a coach that was moving in next door.Â
Iâd be lying if I said this didnât suddenly give me dry mouth and butterflies in my stomach. But I acted quickly and according to protocol. I immediately left and retrieved my security footage remotely after sealing our apartment for Claytonâs safety and the safety of anyone who might accidentally stumble into our place.
Returning later with the proper physical and psychological protection, I retrieved the anomalous artefact in question and Clayton. At present myself, the artifact, and Clayton are in my safehouse unknown to the agency where we will remain until I am guaranteed continued employment. After retrieval the only further effect was changing my prius into a station wagon. Which doesnât bother me for some reason or another.
Apologies again for the underhanded tactics but I know at least one supervisor who attained his position acting similarly during that banana protein shake disaster. Time is of the essence so the quicker you approve my demands the quicker we can get this contained.Â
Yours. Agent Fisher
AGENT FISHER: DEMOTED
One day after receiving Agent Subject Fisherâs missal he was found, reprimanded, and retrieved for further testing. AA-0646 victim âClaytonâ, furthermore named AA-0646-A, was taken in for questioning and, as Fisher described, his previous identity and mind have been subsumed by this new dad persona.
Agent: Do you recall your life before you were a father?
Clayton: Awh gee there itâs just been so long yâknow? Iâm not one for dwelling on the past. My kiddos always used to whine and winge like you wouldnât believe! Ohh but before I settled down I did think about being a historian, matter of fact!
Agent: Really? Well-
Clayton: Course, thereâs no future in that! Hah hah hah! Heh.
Agent: Mmhm I see.
When Fisher came up in questioning, AA-0646-A went glassy in the eyes and produced a second variant of AA-0646 from his robe, distinct from the original; this version is decorated with a garish title sticker labelling âCoach Next Doorâ. Lou over in processing is confident the tape is porn but as the Agency demands, we must discover everything about this Anomalous Artifact, and there is no better test lab rat than our newest Subject Fisher.
While AA-0646-A allegedly changed over the course of a few days, Fisherâs changes were far hastier. Perhaps exacerbated through his frequent and ill advised contact and borderline obsession with AA-0646-A.
As Fisher suggested Agents have neglected to observe what the program actually consists of, but given the subjectâs excitement it seems to be somewhere between outright porn and a classic sitcom. After the first viewing, the subject has begun to exhibit increased muscle mass and hair growth.Â
When momentarily prevented from viewing AA-0646, the subject began to grow frantic before being assuaged by the suggestion of physical exercise. Following this subjectâs mass began to increase with even more haste. Subject continued to exercise even after AA-0646 was returned, more so when it began to play once more.
On the second loop the subject grew in height and body hair began to accelerate to a degree agents describe as âabove averageâ. While his upper body develops pecs and biceps, his jaw sharpens as it too is overtaken with stubble that befits his new self.Â
Agents tell me the subject at this point appears to be an âotterâ. I neglect to follow up. From the images delivered however it is clear the subject is no longer the Fisher we knew and tolerated. Almost nude in the test room, subjectâs malfitting underpants are stained and filled with a notable bulge.
Finally, on watch three, much like on subject AA-0646-Aâs Day three, the transformation accelerates to totally excise whatever remains of the subject within. Muscle mass still rising, it is soon displaced by fat that befits an ex-jock, clearly the coach next door in question.Â
Body hair has accelerated from âabove-averageâ to âextremeâ and the messy stubble on his face has begun to be speckled with a few white hairs. Subjectâs surely thinning hairline is covered by a cheap sweat-stained baseball cap allegedly not given to him by Agents, nor were the jock strap, whistle, or tube socks.
Given AA-646âs ability to generate matter and shape reality Doctor Marquez suggests subjects AA-646-A and AA-646-B, that is âFisherâ, be quarantined and their respective instances of AA-646, sealed away from them. The idea is broached with A and B and surprisingly they are amenable, as long as they are quarantined with access together.Â
This request is deemed acceptable and the Agency will see fit to keep the affected subjects under constant supervision. Though, given the agentâs best guesses as to what is to occur between the pair it remains unclear what intelligence will be gathered. Still, knowledge above all else. We shall see to it that someone decidedly lustless shall oversee the continued research on instances of AA-646.
While Special Agent Fisherâs prior demands may be neglected, at the very least he and Clayton, that is 646-A and 646-B, shall have their needs met by the agency and each other.
Recommended follow up: Agents are to remind cohabitants letter of the federal law to not open mail addressed to others. Agents are to exercise caution around VHS and other vintage recordings. Furthermore any Agents with daddy issues or kinks are to avoid Block 600A until further notice.
Love your stories bro! Could you turn me into a big muscular daddy?
As you opened the last of your gifts, you were surprised to see one final box tucked in the back behind the tree. You didnât remember getting a gift from anyone else, and when you looked over the strange box, there was no sender's name on the tag. It seemed innocuous enough, and it was a holiday gift addressed to you. It would be a waste not to open it!
Ripping through the wrapping paper, you found an ornate, wooden box. It looked expensive and old, something that definitely stood out among the other gifts you received. Carefully opening up the box, you were surprised to see a fancy lamp tucked inside. The lamp looked used, but the wear and tear on it did not detract from the elaborate and decorated designs on the side of the golden container. There were blood rubies along the handle that could likely gleam in the light if you spent some time cleaning off the sand and dirt. It looked like something that belonged in a museum, and for a moment, you wondered if this was really something you should own.
However, when you picked up the lamp, you were startled by an outpouring of blue and gold smoke. The fog billowed out from the spout of the lamp, filling up the room with far more of those acrid fumes than the lamp could have contained. Coughing roughly from the gas, you waved your hands around in an attempt to clear out the space so you could see clearly. As the smoke began to dissipate, you focused on the imposing figure hovering before your very eyes. Before you could even register what was happening, the smoky figure began to speak to you, introducing itself as a genie.
âYou have freed me from my prison, Master,â the genie rumbled lowly. The voice was low and gravelly, an archaic voice that stroked the back of your mind as the spirit spoke. It was an auditory experience, making the hairs on the back of your hand stand up as you listened to the genie. The deep, vibrating tone made your knees tremble to the point where you had to cling to the countertop to support yourself. The spirit was large, overwhelming to the point where if the genie had a physical, tangible body, it could easily overpower you with a flick of its hand.
âAllow me to show you my gratitude for freeing me. Whatever you wish, Master, I shall grant within my powers,â the genie murmured. The spirit bowed, showing reverence and respect. There was a moment where you caught a glimpse of a light twinkle in the otherâs eyes, although you did not give it much weight. It must have been a trick of the light, though, as you rationalized it for yourself. The whole experience was far beyond what you could have even imagined when you touched the antique lamp. Someone of mythical renown possessing powerful, magical abilities? Someone willing to do as you wish, without asking any questions? You couldnât help but grin at the implications, your mind racing with all the possibilities.
The genie, waiting patiently for your instruction, slowly raised its head to look at you with curious eyes. âForgive this servant for speaking out of turn, Master. But it seems you have many wishes. Perhaps, if you would allow me, I shall enable three of your deepest desires,â the genie mused.
With a slow nod of your head, the genie hummed with delight at the granted freedom. The spiritâs eyes began to glow a golden hue, a soft chant spilling from their lips as a warm light began to envelop your body.
âMy Master is strong. Big. Larger than every man in the room,â the spirit rumbled as the ancient magic began to seep into your body. âNo one is bigger than him, no one has more power than him.â
A soft groan spilled from your lips before you even realized what was happening. There was a burning sensation that ran through your body, as if every bone and muscle was worked over again and again. You felt like you had run a marathon, done five workouts, and played in every possible sports tournament all at once. Doubling over from the flashes of pain, you pant heavily as you cry out from the feeling. But just as quickly as the magic overtook your body with pain, you also felt a flush of pleasure shooting through you. It started from your crotch, but quickly spread, until your toes were curling in on themselves and your fingertips tingled with a newfound sensitivity.Â
Gasping as you heard a low, ripping sound, you managed to glance down to see your body explode with muscle. Whatever clothes you had on before were stretched to their limits, and the tears and rips in the fabric told you that it could not hold your body back. With each breath you took, it felt like your body swelled up more and more. âW-Waiââ you groaned as you eyed your thickening biceps. There was a sense of power that felt novel to you, as if you could easily crush someoneâs head between your forearms with just a single flex. You pant heavily, saliva dripping from your lips as you greedily feast on the growing changes. It was as if someone had attached a hose to your body, inflating you up like a balloon full of air. But a single, simple poke with your thickening fingers confirmed that it was just hard, thick muscle.
Another moan spilled out as you continued groping and squeezing at your body. Your hands blew up to the size of baseball mitts, gloves large enough to palm someoneâs face and hold them at bay if you wished. Your fingers fattened up from slim, slender digits into thick, meaty sausages. You smirk at the sight, already chuckling at the idea of your finger slipping into a tight hole and making someone else mewl with need. Dragging your hands over your swelling body, you find yourself naturally cupping your jiggling bosom, only chuckling lowly at the heavy weight that came with squeezing your fat, muscular tits.
Your thumb flicked over your puffy nipples, and you didnât hold your moans back as your fingertips tweaked at the sensitive areolas. Shuddering with need, you eagerly feasted your eyes on the other changes happening over your body. Barely able to see past the thick, juicy mounds of your pecs, you push down on your bouncing breast to witness the fiery burning sensation on your stomach. And before your very eyes, you saw six distinct, carved bumps form on your stomach. They bubbled up to the surface, pulling your skin taut over the curves and ridges that came from your new abs. One hand dropped down to trace over the ridges carefully, your cock twitching at the smooth bumps beneath your fingertips. It had always been a dream of yours to have a six-pack this defined, and now it had happened in just a mere second. Between the light, glancing touches, you watched as a firm V-line began to carve itself into your skin. It offered up clear, distinct lines pointing down towards your crotch, the envy of any man if they pulled their pants down low enough.
Following the growing changes, your other hand slipped down to wrap a firm grip around your cock. With your juicy chest obstructing your view, you resolved to touch yourself as you rode out the waves of magical pleasure. Even if you were not able to witness it, you could feel the changes beginning to cause your cock to swell. Despite already being rock hard from the muscular changes you saw before, your cock continued to lengthen and swell up, as though it was only half-chubbed. You shuddered from the delightful feeling, your eyes rolling back as the girth of your member thickens significantly. What was easily dwarfed in just one of your meaty paws quickly grew to a sizeable weapon, packed between your thighs. You let both of your hands fall to grope and stroke at the lengthening pipe, needing both to help support the weight of your fat dick. Moaning as your fingertips teased along the underside of your cock, you grunt as you feel your flared cockhead burp out a few droplets of precum. The slick, sticky feeling coated your fingertips, providing additional lubrication to the otherwise warm friction between your hands and the girthy pipe.Â
You heard the wet splurts of precum dripping down onto the floor and along the insides of your thighs. And while you figured you would have a messy cleanup afterwards, you werenât bothered in the slightest. The cummy mess was all worth it if the genie was granting your deepest desires to become big and muscular, and hot. As if confirming your true desires, your legs began to thicken and swell up in turn. Your thighs felt fuller than you remembered, and when you felt the inner thighs rub against each other, you could already see your future of waddling around like the big, beefy man you were always meant to be. Lines of muscle became more defined beneath your skin, with massive quads and diamond-hard calves that screamed of all the power contained in your lower half. When your feet burst out from your socks, you could only groan with relief at the unrestricted feeling. You wiggled your freed toes, enjoying the feeling of upgrading your shoe size as you positioned yourself into a firm and steady stance to maintain your balance. When you shifted your weight around, you felt heavy and dense, like years of muscle and growth were packed into your compact frame.
As if hearing this slight concern of yours, the genieâs eyes glimmered, and it snapped its fingers once more. All of a sudden, your spine began to crack and lengthen, stretching you out until you gained several more inches. The new vantage point was dizzying, and your muscular arms shot out to steady yourself with the countertop as you towered over the smoky entity. Staring down at the genie, you realized you had a better view of your muscular frame, and the added inches certainly helped add to the intimidating, overpowering aura you had always hoped for.
âMy Masterâs second wish shall proceed as such. He shall have all the power and masculinity that is befitting for someone of his size, and he will show this through a thick fur coat and a pelt damp with his sweat and musk,â the spirit continued as it gazed back up at you with a glimmer of satisfaction in its eyes.Â
Before you had the chance to stop the genie or ask him what was going on, another wave of magic pulsed straight through your body. This time, it seemed primarily centered on your balls, and you could only grunt in surprise as you felt the swinging sack between your elephant-like thighs begin to swell and drop even lower. Taking on a wider stance so you would not crush your own sack, you growled as you felt pure, unfiltered testosterone flood through your body. What was once painful and pleasurable soon became a feeling of discomfort, and you scratched idly at your skin as you waited. And as if on cue, curls of hair began to spring forth all over your body.
It was like watching the breeze blow through a field of grass, with a shimmering wave that caused fresh hair to grow all over your body. It was a light but generous dusting everywhere, although the magic seemed to focus primarily on your face, your pits, your chest, and your privates. Rubbing at your jawline and cheeks, you could feel the beginnings of a beard and moustache beginning to thicken into something fuller and richer. From what you could tell, it felt like something that you had been growing your entire life. You glanced down as your cock and swollen balls were covered in a dense forest of hair, and the itchiness between your ass cheeks confirmed the same thing around your hole.
As you raised your thick biceps to flex, you caught a whiff of your musk from your pits. What used to be smoother and shaved curves of your skin was quickly overtaken by a thick mat of hair. It grew and spiraled out from the skin, trapping up any bits of sweat to make a nice mat for you to force someoneâs face into. You shuddered at the thought, your swinging cock already leaking out some more at the idea of having someone buried up in there, worshipping your growing body in its fullest.
âMy Master is in control and in charge of things. He is dominant. He is overpowering and unstoppable. When he desires something, he shall have it.â
As if speaking it into existence, you groaned as you felt an influx of thoughts spilling into your otherwise temperamental personality. You had been agreeable and easy to talk to. But like an earworm wriggling its way into the depths of your mind, you felt those thoughts shift into something more demanding and controlling. Why did you have to accommodate others? Why shouldnât people listen to you instead? Things were far easier when you called the shots, when you were in control, and when people submitted to you. A cocky grin found itself forming on your lips as you eyed the spirit with a confident gaze that almost viewed it as something lesser than you.
In an instant, with your newfound strength and speed, you darted forward to grip the genieâs throat. While you had expected your fingers to pass through air, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there was something minuscule and barely tangible for you to hold onto. Not one to let the moment pass by, you kept a firm grip on the core of the spirit and brought it close to your changed body.
âI donât remember having desires like that. Have you been changing me how you saw fit? These are your desires for me, not what I wished for myself,â you growled as you saw through the genieâs tricks. The spiritâs glowing eyes widened in surprise at being caught, and if it was an actual person, you were sure that you would have seen the flicker of fear in those golden eyes. But instead of reprimanding the genie, you only brought your arms up in a firm flex. You grunted as you watched the peaks of your biceps harden once more, showing off the dense, packed muscle that could easily crush the spirit, whether it had a physical form or not.
âMore,â you growled as you pressed the genieâs half-tangible face up against your sweaty pecs. You smirked at the sight of the spirit moaning and panting over your body, over something that it made in the first place. âGrant me more wishes. Turn me into the thing that you desire most, you little slut,â you hissed as you watched the genie struggle to pull away from your firm grip. Even in its smoky form, there was enough for you to grip and hold in place, and you werenât planning on letting go anytime soon. âItâs the least you can do for doing whatever the fuck you wanted. Who would have guessed I released such a whorish genie?â
For a while, all you could hear was the wet, sloppy pants as the genie struggled between those two, delicious mounds of fat and muscle. While there was no saliva to coat your hairy chest, you were certain that the spirit would have eagerly slobbered over your tits if it could. Still, the genie managed to pry its head away from worshiping your musky muscles, only staring up at you with a dazed expression.
âI wish⌠for my Master to become the beefiest, Arab daddy there ever was. Someone to be my lover and care for me and use me as he pleasesâŚâ the genie whispered.
There was the familiar outpouring of magic that rushed through your larger frame, although this time, it was accompanied by a feeling of reverent awe. You smirked as you leaned your head back, letting the magic overtake you and change you once more as you relished in the fact that the genie had learned its proper place in your dynamic now.
Years began to form on your face, changing your young, youthful visage into something more mature and experienced. What dominant, cocky feelings you had swelling in your chest before slowly molded into something far more stoic and calm. You didnât have to prove your strength and power anymore; youâve had years to do so. Instead, you approached your lovers with a steadfast assurance in yourself. Your words were like commands; they carried the weight of both your experience and your resolute determination. All the years you had missed began piling into your mind, filling in the gaps of a life you never had. You were a powerful, commanding daddy, with both the financial expertise and the knowledge to get what you wanted whenever you wanted.
The hair coating your body began to thicken and darken, until it became a nice, black mat of fur that contrasted against your sun-kissed skin. Years of tanning and working out shirtless under the sunlight darkened your skin into a healthy, vibrant tan. It was something that you were particularly proud of, and memories of yourself roaming around on your back porch butt-naked filled your stuffed head. You recalled the lewd whistles and cat calls from others as they savored the sight of your sweaty, tanned body, and you eagerly ate up every last compliment.
In the meantime, your past began to mold and shift into something more akin to a different country you called home. You had moved here at a young age, hoping to make a name for yourself, and your mind was flooded with experiences of life as an immigrant. Whatever hardships and struggles you triumphed over in the past paved the way to the successful, Arab businessman you are now. You groaned with the influx of information being dumped into your head, and as you let the implanted memories solidify into your truth, you could feel the tongue in your mouth grow thicker and fuller. Whatever thoughts you had were slowly translated into the Arabic language, until you spoke and thought primarily in your mother tongue. English was just a second language that you learned as a means of advancing your career, but it was one of many languages that you could speak fluently now. Even as you addressed the mythical genie, there was a thick accent that coated your words.
âSo this is what you wanted,â you growled as you yanked the genieâs head back, only guiding it over so you could stuff it up against your sweaty pits instead. The spirit moaned once more, its intangible body seeming to solidify into something more firm and heavy for you to grip onto. âA hot, beefy Arab daddy for you to worship and slobber all over. For you to be a lover for.â The genie couldnât say much in response, only mumbling out something with its lips pressed against the curves of your armpits. What you managed to make out was something about a âfat ass.â
As if it were some final act of rebellion, you groaned as you felt your backside begin to plump up and fatten in a way that jutted your hips forward. Low, heavy moans spilled out as you could feel your previously flat bottom bloom with both a healthy portion of fat and muscle. It was something that would strain your suit pants, a struggle you faced every morning before heading to the office for work. And as the jiggling cheeks continued to plump up to the point where you were sure people would fixate their sights on either your fat ass or heaving pecs, you growled once more as you pulled the genie away to glare at the magical creature.
âNo more changes. You donât deserve this. To get to savor a body that you sculpted to suit your own needs,â you growled. The genie could only whimper apologetically, in an attempt to soothe your flaring annoyance at its disobedience. âSeems Iâll have to show you where you properly stand in this relationship. Now, you'd better make yourself a body that I can drive this thick cock into. Something with lots of stamina and plenty of room to dump all this hot, thick seed inside of. Or Iâll be sure to stuff you back into that lamp and send you far away from here.â
The spirit shuddered as it quickly formed something more corporeal, the rest of the smoke dissipating in a whirlwind as the lamp sucked up the rest of the ethereal essence. Stalking after your slutty loverâs juicy body towards the bedroom, you couldnât help but pause to look at yourself in the hallway mirror. You smirked as you savored the changes to your new life; while this wasnât what you had expected, you certainly couldnât complain about getting something truly delightful. And with a magical, hungry lover by your side and a body that could get you anyone that you wanted, what more could you ask for?
Now, if only you could get yourself to stop squeezing and rubbing at your own pecs, you could have the whole world at your fingertips...
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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."
Here's one of the new caption stories from my Patreon if you enjoyed it and would like to read more stuff like it, there are a handful still unposted ones in my discord channel! Plus, a brand new one about a guy leaving work only to find the streets filled with tons of hulking, furry pipe bears: https://www.patreon.com/posts/151270546
âHoly crap duuude! Look at this thing! I bet Stacy would totally love a necklace like this, sheâd been dropping hints about wanting something fancy for her birthday for like the whole month!â
You kept on rolling your eyes but after seeing your best friendâs excitement as he jumped around this antique shop you just didnât have the heart to bring him back to reality by telling him that this shiny thing probably cost more than his entire apartment or maybe even his parentsâ house. But there were probably some worse places out there to be stuck in, at least unlike that concert Eddie took you to last week this one didnât seem likely to permanently damage your hearing. Plus, some of this stuff actually looked pretty neat despite smelling a little musty⌠Though you figured that was to be expected, it was as if you were in the middle of some kind of a labyrinth made out of all kinds of old looking crap, paintings, statues, vases covered in mosaics and countless other, barely holding together antiquesâŚÂ
Suddenly you caught a whiff of a smell you didnât quite expect to find here and as you turned your head, you found your eyes going wide as faint curls of smoke slowly drifted through the air right past your face. Oh crap! Was there a fire in here or something?! You whipped your head around to get Eddieâs attention but he seemed to have wandered off in the meantime so you quickly turned back around, quickly discovering just where those wisps of smoke were coming from⌠as odd as it sounded, it seemed like someone didnât put out this pipe before placing it on the wooden display stand it occupied.
Wow, even this thing looked like a genuine work of art, with its large, wooden bowl painstakingly sculpted to resemble some old, bearded guyâs face. Every wrinkle and strand of hair on his pudgy face seemed so real that for a moment there you almost thought you saw it move and blink at you as if it was alive. You remembered that there was a sign near the entrance warning not to touch anything but what if something really were to catch on fire because of it? This entire shop would be gone in minutes like a box of matches and itâs not like you have seen any staff around anywayâŚ
You picked it up and sure enough, the bowl felt a bit warm to the touch. For a moment you stared at it completely transfixed, admiring the level of detail and wondering just how someone would go around sculpting a thing so ridiculously detailed. Then suddenly you let out a surprised yelp, just barely stopping yourself from dropping the pipe to the floor. Holy shit! You werenât seeing things earlier, this face did actually move! The wooden eyes shifted like they were staring straight at you, it gave you a wink as the mouth curled into a smirk and then opened up wide.
In an instant, a thick spiral of smoke erupted from between its carved lips, briefly drawing a curve through the air before wrapping itself around your hand before you could even react. Your first thought was to toss the pipe away but for some unknown reason you found your fingers clutching onto its bowl even tighter now. You could only watch as the smoke coiled up your arm like a living thing, moving up your limbs with impossible speed. Before you knew it, its plumes had already engulfed your whole chest, you felt its warmth as it surged up your neck and then face, its dense cloud nearly fully blocking out the sight of the antique shop around you.Â
You opened your mouth to shout for Eddie only realizing that it was the dumbest idea ever when it was too late, the very moment your lips split apart, the smoke was already prepared to rush down your throat, forcing its way straight into your lungs. You began to cough violently, the harsh taste of tobacco burning inside your chest, your eyes watering as you doubled over, still unable to let go of the pipe in your hand.
For a second you thought you were actually going to suffocate right there, but just as you were about to take your last, desperate breath, you suddenly found the smoke flowing inside you without any resistance whatsoever. Not even a faintest scratch could be felt inside your throat, almost as though your airways have also discovered a brand new appreciation for this exquisite, premium tobacco blend, growing intimately accustomed to it at the exact same time you did⌠How curious⌠a sense of calmness proceeded to wash over you as you straightened your back, even if truth be told you found yourself at a bit of a loss⌠unexpectedly having a particularly difficult time trying to recall what it was exactly that left you so deeply perturbed just now⌠certainly not this fine specimen of a pipe?Â
Oh, that couldnât possibly have been the case.. Yet at the same time you had to concede that it seemed a little peculiar how only a second ago you could have sworn that its bowl had been adorned with an expertly crafted carving of a rather dashing gentlemanâs face. Yet now all you could see as it laid nested within your fingers was your own, not a smidgen less galant reflection staring back at you in the dark, polished wood. But it only took a moment before its stem was placed rightfully between your lips, pipes were to be enjoyed after all, not simply admired, especially ones packed with such delectable tobacco! Oh⌠you could hardly suppress your moans as you drew on it for the first time, savoring its refined, complex notes as they melted on your palate. Your turgid member already calling out to you, tempting you to partake in your second favorite activity despite being in such an indiscreet locale.
âHoly fucking shit!!! What happened to you dude?!â
A terrified shriek of a younger man rushing towards you had momentarily pulled you out of your pleasureful reverie. You hastily confirmed that your pecker was indeed still well within the confines of your fly so what could have possibly warranted such an uncouth outburst? You removed the pipe from your mouth and tilted your head slightly in confusion and yet this young ruffian still continued to stare at you with his mouth wide agape and eyes as if ready to pop out of their sockets!
After yet another insistent stare from his direction, you sighed and glanced downwards to see what might have possibly placed him in such profound distress. Immediately you were greeted by the edges of your magnificent, luxuriant beard as it cascaded down from your robust, puffy cheeks, blending in with even more snowy white tufts that densely stuffed the wide-open collar of your tailored suit. Your chest was broad and powerful but any brawn cultivated in the distant past could never dream of approaching in its grandeur the true monument to indulgence that proudly jutted beneath your teats its round glory. You gave it a light pat, feeling reassured that despite appearing visibly strained, all of your shirtâs buttons were still entirely successful in their valiant effort of containing its girth. In total, nothing seemed to be amiss whatsoeverâŚ
You placed the pipe back in your mouth and ran your large hand across your beard, relishing the sensation of the silken, perfectly groomed strands gliding past your fingertips. Then you shifted your attention back to the younger man who by now grew even more agitated and barely coherent as he proceeded to unceasingly blather about something that supposedly had just happened to you. Insisting that he was in fact a close acquaintance of yours and just saw you being swallowed by smoke, only to emerge from it as âsome old, fat guyâ as he put it. You scoffed, unsure if more at his sheer impertinence or perhaps simply just at how preposterous this entire notion appeared to be.
Calling this young boy underdressed would hardly begin to describe the full extent of his haggard state with those old, torn-up jeans and the garish t-shirt of some vulgar music group. Even the most cursory glance was sufficient to assess that this scrawny hoodlum lacked both the refinement and culture required for a gentleman of your standing to ever wish to associate himself with⌠However, after witnessing the sheer force of his conviction, a tiny fragment of you began to wonder if perhaps this pipe that he so desperately implored you to get rid of, did perhaps have some special power.
A mischievous smirk crossed your bearded lips⌠while you had no intention whatsoever of ever parting with this magnificent briar, if this young man did in fact insist on staying at your side, then perhaps its powers could be harnessed to refine him as well into a more⌠amicable form. Your stubby cock was already beginning to twitch within the silky folds of your briefs as you pictured it. His athletic frame did show some promise, but in truth it was hardly enough to whet your appetite⌠the lad was going to need far more substantial endowments in order to properly fulfill the duties you had planned for him. Both in terms of muscle and no doubt also the one area that counted the most when it came to satisfying your big, hungry arse behind the bedchamber doors.Â
This rascal must have been shrewder than he appeared at first glance because it didnât take him too long after you began to draw on your pipe before he seemed to catch on and turned around to run. But when you opened your lips and exhaled, hardly a few more squeaks of his sneakers against the hardwood floor managed to reach your ears before the rapidly surging smoke was already at his feet, engulfing his entire body. You heard him choking, gasping for air, his voice dropping octave after octave with each desperate breath, slowly reaching the desired timbre when he could no longer help himself and unleashed a true cacophony of moans so wonderfully ripe with helpless need and desire that it made your cock drip.
His features remained hidden behind the hazy, grey veil but by now his body was inflating to such obscene proportions that even its silhouette left hardly anything to the imagination. His shoulders squared and broadened, biceps easily reaching and then far exceeding the size of actual watermelons, chest exploding outwards into a boundless meaty shelf as his legs, now immense, sprawling pillars of pure muscle worked tirelessly to keep this hulking colossus fully upright. When the smoke finally began to dissipate you found him in a far more agreeable pose than before. Spine straight, hands clasped behind his back and eyes attentively focused on you with a composed, submissive expression, a truly perfect image of your new butler.
âHello, how may I serve you today, Sir?â
Hearing this muscular giant who by now towered over you by well over a head addressing you with such respect and reverence suddenly felt so fitting⌠just as well as the choice of his new outfit. Thankfully that ghastly shirt and pants were completely gone, with only a bowtie underneath a small white collar adorning his neck and a black pair of skimpy posers, tight enough to immediately reveal that your wish regarding his endowment was fulfilled in an equally satisfactory manner. As eager as you were to inspect it up close, you simply had to take a moment to fully admire the very monument to the male physique heâd been turned into. Every smallest muscle was fully defined and sculpted to absolute perfection that would have made even the Farnese Hercules blush, all of it honed with utmost diligence and rigour⌠of course⌠you expected nothing less from your personal assistant.
You approached slowly, hearing the floorboards creak with each step, your substantial belly swaying from side to side as you savored the view as well as this delightful tobacco which caressed your tongue. His new, full beard and the dusting of blonde hair over his chest have captured your gaze for almost as long as his bulge. They made him look so virile⌠so profoundly masculine⌠your hole was already twitching with need but before you had him make you squeal, you fully intended to have some fun firstâŚ
With a mischievous smirk, just barely visible underneath your voluminous, snow-white mustache you extended your hand, only narrowly succeeding in cupping his enormous manhood within your pudgy, weathered palm. Aside from a barely audible whimper which slipped past his lips, your butlerâs composure remained unbroken even as your fingers have fully wrapped themselves around his firehose of a cock through the soft fabric. But you were relentless, steadily fondling and massaging its entire length all while observing his brutish, broad-jawed face beginning to blush and cover in perspiration as he desperately tried to hold his trembling, colossal form in check. His head slowly tilting backwards as helpless gasps echoed from his throat. Oh yes⌠he was in your full control and you both knew it.
You slipped one of your chubby fingers behind the waistband of the posers and pulled them down, letting his gargantuan slab of meat spring free as it smacked right against his gigantic abs with a meaty thwack, spraying both his chest and your beard with countless, shiny beads of precum. Even before you laid your eyes on this unshackled, pulsating monstrosity you were already hungrily licking your lips, feeling your mouth overflowing with saliva, but now you simply needed it! The lad was perfectly trained, you found one of his arms already extended to serve as support while you descended to your knees, his posture not wavering in the slightest even when you balanced your whole weight against it.
You let the pipe stem out of your mouth and leaned forward, opening wide in the thrilling anticipation of finally getting your lips around that magnificent shaft⌠yet when you were only mere inches away from tasting his youthful, masculine essence, why were you suddenly the one trembling and starting to hesitate?
âEddieâŚâ
You heard yourself whisper, but not in the aged, sonorous and commanding baritone that you were accustomed to hearing resounding from your throat. No, it sounded more like a meek, confused voice of some scared boy. Why were you suddenly so terrified of that name?! Of course deep inside you knew exactly why⌠it belonged to your best friend⌠a guy you knew since college⌠a guy whose cock you were just about to suck off! Oh shit, what the fuck was going on here?!
âIs everything alright, Sir?â
You could hear the tension in his voice, as if he were fruitlessly trying to say something else but only those words were allowed to ever come out. He was still in there too! Fuck, you had to help him! Your eyes darted to the pipe still clenched within your hand, you saw smoke rising from it, angrily billowing in your direction as if it could sense that you were back in control. Oh fuck! You saw it shooting towards your face in countless white tendrils, you wanted to block them, cover up your mouth and nose but you were so huge, so monstrously huge and so awfully slow⌠your arm was only halfway to your mouth when it had already been filled with smoke that reached all the way down to your lungs. And by the time one of your hands had arrived by your lips, its only purpose was to place the pipeâs stem back where it belonged so you could enjoy yet another lungful of this refined and profoundly invigorating fragrance.
âWith a scrumptious treat like this prepared for me to enjoy? I am feeling decidedly splendid, my dear Edward!â
Your robust voice was once again thick with desire, however as you glanced upwards you took note of your butler appearing rather disconcerted for a change, his panic-stricken countenance fidgeting slightly as if he was trying to shake it, yet at the same time quite unable to move his neck in the slightest. Oh, perhaps that silly lad still thought that you intended to merely tease him further, but no such thing! Now at last it was time for the both of you to depart together on your voyage into the land of the most blissful pleasures!
You parted your lips and exhaled, letting a few misty, grey curls descend upon Edwardâs oh so appetizing manhood, embracing its imposing girth as they spilled down the veiny, engorged sides. It almost appeared to swell even larger right before your eyes as it violently jerked up and down, dripping like a broken faucet while your butler pleadingly moaned to you, imploring you to âsnap out of itâ or something along those lines. However you found yourself realizing that you did not quite care enough to inquire as to what he might have meant by it, after all you did not keep him around to be your conversation partner⌠For that both sides would have needed to keep their mouths unobstructed and you were already stuffing yours with his irresistibly swollen shaft.
Edwardâs lightly salted precum mixed with the exquisite tobacco which still coated your palate made for a truly divine combination. You slowly dragged your tongue against the underside of his cock, sensing every tiniest ridge and crevice, feeling the ferocious heat which radiated outwards as his gargantuan form shook in untamed ecstasy. Your jaw was already aching from the strain as you attempted to fit the entirety of his humongous endowment down your throat, and yet you nevertheless greedily pushed forward, knowing that you wonât feel fully satisfied until you could smell the raw, primal scent of his pubic fur with your nose buried deep among it and could feel his huge, sweaty ballsack smacking against your beard with each thrust.Â
Your own stubby member was aching so badly that you had no other choice than to send your pudgy fingers haphazardly fumbling with your pants until his angry head stood there, just barely jutting past the zipper. But even if you could hardly fit him within your palm, each stroke filled you with so much of this animalistic, ecstatic bliss that it only took moments before the facade of a refined man of culture that you have cultivated on the outside began to crumble, giving way to your true self, the absolute horny cockslut who moaned like a cheap whore as you tightly sealed your bearded lips around your butlerâs obscenely throbbing piece of meat and began to suck with every bit of determination left within your huge, corpulent body.
Edward went completely rigid, his immense muscles flexing and contracting all at once as a strangled cry tore from his throat and his hips began to buckle involuntarily. Driving yet another inch past your lips and making you gag, but that only made it so much more exciting! His impossibly wide, gigantic thighs were quaking before your very eyes but you showed no mercy whatsoever and only hungrily drove deeper, bobbing your head in a frantic rhythm. Your hirsute moobs and belly jiggling with each rapid stroke of your stubby nub.
You were in heaven and as you lifted your heavy-lidded eyes to fully take in the view of this muscular behemoth helplessly trembling above you, of his tremendous chest heaving with each labored breath, of all the glistening sweat pouring in rivulets through every perfectly defined curve and valley on his Herculean body. His face was flushed deep red and tilted far back as endless moans and gasps poured out of his bearded mouth. What you so desperately craved was already well on its way. Edwardâs voice cracked into a guttural roar as his entire form froze in place as if a marble statue and then began to flood your mouth with endless waves of virile, hot seed.
The first rope nearly made you choke as it shot straight down your gullet, but you greedily swallowed it all, moaning around the pulsating cock as it continued to unleash more and more of that thick, salty nectar which immediately threatened to spill past your lips out of its sheer abundance. But the cum-hungry fiend like you would never let even a single drop go to waste as your eyes rolled back in bliss, an orgasm of pure delight sending your rotund frame into powerful spasms. Yet even then you didnât stop swallowing for even a second, didnât stop sucking and milking that glorious piece of meat until it was completely dry.
When Edward finally slid his cock out your throat with an obscene pop, both of you found yourself turning to find an older, distinguished and finely dressed gentleman observing you from the side. He was still slowly stroking his newly spent cock, his eyes glazed with pleasure, clearly having just finished as evidenced by the mess staining the floor between his legs. Somehow you knew that he was the owner of this antique store and with Edwardâs prompt assistance you heaved yourself to back your feet, dabbing the corners of your mouth with the handkerchief you pulled out of your pocket.
âHello my good Sir, please excuse this small indecency. I simply must inquire about purchasing this remarkable briar!â
Yet in reply you only saw his lips curving into a knowing smile underneath the monumental, white mustache which adorned them.
âOh, my dear fellow, this magnificent performance alone was worth far more than any monetary sum I might have requested for this little trinket, please, do consider it yours. I only ask that you recommend my establishment to other acquaintances of yours, a place like this truly thrives on word of mouth, I believe you understand.â
After seeing that mischievous glint in his eyes the implication was indeed not lost on you and after thanking him profusely you once again nodded your head and gestured for Edward to follow you to the exit. As you stepped out into the afternoon air, the pipe was already back between your lips, delighting you once more with its exquisite taste. Yet you knew that the pleasures of the day were far from over, your hole was already twitching in anticipation of all the things Edward was going to subject it to with his monumental instrument once the both of you arrived in your bedchambers. The road back home couldnât possibly be short enough.
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.
Stefan was now a chubby but handsome middle aged man in his 50s, fitting right in with the rest of the men at the party. He grabbed another beer and took a swig, his memories of being a frat bro long forgotten.