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Incident Report: AE-919-005

Jake hated the night shift at the gallery in █████. At 26, he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, and this job was just a temporary gig to pay the bills. He didn't give a damn about art, but the pay was decent enough, at least he thought. As a cleaner, his duties were pretty straightforward: mop the floors, dust the displays, and make sure everything looks presentable for the next day's visitors. Easy money, but boring as hell.

Tonight felt different, though. As he was finishing up his rounds on the ground floor, he noticed something odd. There was a door at the back of the corridor that he had never seen before...

Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to check it out.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting to find a storage closet or something similar. Instead, he found himself in a large chamber with something big in the centre. What it was, he didn't know, as it was covered by a huge tarp.

"What the hell is this place?" Jake muttered to himself, shining his torch around the room. "This a new exhibit or something?" he wondered aloud. Looking around, there wasn't much else in the room, just a few old crates and some workbenches covered in a bit of dust. Jake's eyes were drawn back to the thing in the centre, where bold red letters were stencilled across:

DO NOT LOOK

Jake snorted. "Yeah, right."

Now, a normal person would have probably left it alone, but this was a young man with nothing better to do. He wasn't the kind of guy who followed rules when no one was watching. He hooked his fingers under the edge of the tarp and yanked it.

*fffffft*

"What the hell?" Jake gasped, staring at the sight before him.

Four statues.

They were identical in their perfection: towering, hyper-muscled male figures carved from some kind of stone. Each one posed differently, but they all shared the same brutally handsome faces, square jaws, and thick, veiny stone cocks hanging freely in their sculpted forms.

The detail in these things was obscene. Jake's stomach twisted. "What the fuck are these fag statues?" he muttered, the words echoing off the walls. His conservative hometown upbringing screamed in the back of his head. These statues were the male form perfected, and this made Jake uncomfortable with his own sexuality. He kept thinking about modesty and how these sculptures were clearly made by a gay person, given the giant cocks they had.

He forced himself to look away and grabbed the mop. "Just clean the damn room and get out", he told himself. The floor was filthy with some sticky liquid. He attacked it hard, trying to ignore the four giants in the room.

Fucking homos...

Minutes passed. The chamber started looking almost presentable. Jake wrung out the mop, ready to bolt, when a sudden noise scared him.

"W-what the hell?" he stammered, spinning around.

...

...

...

Silence...

He didn't know what to expect. The only thing in the room with him were those giant statues, and they surely couldn't have made a sound.

"Okay, maybe I imagined it" he thought, trying to calm himself down. Suddenly, the lights in the ceiling flickered, and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment.

When the lights came back on, the sight before him was even more terrifying.

No fucking way...

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The statues were no longer in the same positions they were before.

He was frozen in place. They had moved. All four of them. Closer. A bit closer.

His eyes were getting dry from the fear...

*blink*

Jake's breath caught. They were even closer now. He stumbled backward and tripped over himself. His ass hit the cold floor hard.

He opened his eyes after the fall, and the statues were in different positions again. Even their poses had changed, kinda like they were mocking him.

*blink*

Another blink. They definitely seemed closer. Jake's heart was beating so hard that it hurt.

Fuck... FUCK FUCK FUCK! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME

After a few more blinks, he realised it. They were only moving when he wasn't looking. He was trapped though, not able to look behind him for the exit. The longer he stared at them, the hotter the room felt. His simple black shirt suddenly felt tight across his shoulders. His arms were sweating, evident from the two sweat stains under his armpits.

The more he looked at those big... strong... masculine... statues, the warmer he felt. The chiselled bodies... perfectly sculpted... and those perfectly carved... cocks... Wait. Cocks? He wasn't gay, why did those cocks look so... perfect?

*blink*

They inched closer again.

"No... no no no... stop looking at their dicks, you fucking freak", Jake thought in panic. But his eyes stayed glued on their perfect bodies. The longer he stared, the more his body betrayed him.

His chest began to swell with each breath he took. He did not notice how his chest was now stretching the T-shirt he was wearing. His arms thickened, veins bulging as they grew in size. Those biceps and triceps exploded in size, the fabric of his shirt straining to contain them. The shirt started to ride up, exposing more and more of his now broadening torso. His nipples hardened and became more sensitive, poking through the thin material as his chest continued to grow in size and definition.

This isn't happening... this can't be real... I'm not... I'm not...

His shoulders popped. He was getting so big... so strong... the testosterone flooding his body was making him hornier than he had ever been in his life. Those perfect, veiny cocks on the statues were all he could think about. He wanted to touch them, to feel them in his hands, to stroke them even though he knew it was wrong. It felt so bad, but it also felt so good... He was getting so turned on by the sight of these gorgeous, perfect stone men, and it was terrifying him. He wanted to stop, to leave, but he was afraid to look away. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. All he could do was stare at perfection, while trying to crawl away from it at the same time.

I can't... I don't want... PLEASE... LEAVE ME ALONE...

He could feel himself losing control. The urge to give in and touch himself right there was overwhelming him. He was so big now. His thighs grew so thick that it stretched his jeans painfully. It hurt so much... he needed to take them out, but he couldn't. He needed to do something... anything... His cock… fuck, his cock just was begging to be released. It was so tight in those jeans...

The thoughts in his head were getting slower, fuzzier. Memories of his conservative family, the things they'd say if they saw him like this, the shame he was supposed to feel - they all started to feel distant and irrelevant. All that mattered now was the need to release himself. His cock suddenly lurched with a mind of its own. Jake gasped sharply as his puny shaft swelled heavier and longer, pushing aggressively against the front of his pants. The jeans were so tight that it felt like they were going to burst open at any moment. He tried to unzip them without looking down. As he did, his package bobbed up and down in his underwear, freer than before, now able to breathe freely.

Stop... please... I don't want this... I'm not a fag... I'm not...

But his cock kept throbbing harder, betraying him with every pulse. Precum soaked through his boxers in hot, sticky pulses, darkening the gray material as his balls swelled too, growing fuller, heavier, churning with a sudden, overwhelming need.

What… the fuck… no-fuck-stop!

One hand flew down instinctively, trying to press the massive, still-growing erection flat against his thigh, but the moment his palm made contact the cock surged even harder, thickening another full inch in a single powerful pulse. The head flared wider, stretching out his underwear, slick and flushed and impossibly sensitive. His eyes were burning and crying as tears welled up behind them. He couldn't stop staring at the statues. The longer he looked, the more his mind started to slip. They were so beautiful...

So fucking perfect...

The pressure built up inside him until it felt like it would burst at any moment, and then...

He couldn't help himself. One huge hand wrapped around his dripping monster without thinking and gave it a slow stroke. Precum bubbled from the slit in heavy globs. A dumb, lazy grin crept across his face. His brain was turning into mush. All his worries, doubts, and insecurities were washed away by the sheer beauty of the statues. Everything else was irrelevant.

He felt good. Big. Powerful.

He was happy...

He didn't even notice that he had begun stroking himself. Just his now meaty hand and his throbbing cock, beneath the fabric of his underwear. He didn't care about anything else but the feeling of his own flesh against his skin, the way it was stretching and bulging with each stroke. He felt like he could burst at any moment, like a balloon filled to the brim.

Ughnnh...

Looking at those statues felt so good... His personality, his will, his life... all flushed down his balls. They were so full of cum, begging for release as he continued touching himself like a dumb fool. He stopped caring about his life... about the moving statues... about anything really. Just an empty head filled with nothing but the desire to cum.

He felt so good... He didn't care any more. These things could kill him for all he cared. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, surrendering completely as his growing dick continued to throb and leak in his pants, begging for more.

One of the statues stepped forward now that his eyes were finally closed.

Cold stone fingers enveloped Jake's face in a strong crushing grip. The giant sentinel grabbed him by the face and started lifting him effortlessly off the floor. As it lifted him, Jake's already enormous thighs kept swelling even bigger. The overstretched fabric of his work pants finally gave up. Thick strips of torn material shredded down both sides as his massive quads and rock-hard ass burst free. His now monstrous, foot-long cock and heavy balls sprang completely into the open air, swinging heavily between his spread legs, still leaking thick ropes of precum that splattered onto the floor below.

At first it hurt - the pressure on his jaw, the way his neck strained - but the pain melted almost immediately into something pleasurable. Jake's face began to harden under those stone fingers. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones pushed out, forehead became smooth and chiselled. The more the statue lifted him, the more Jake grew. His last human expression settled into the same arrogant, chiselled smirk as the others.

His spine stretched with deep, cracking pops, adding inch after inch of height. His shoulders, his arms, his legs - every part of him grew bigger than it had before. He was slowly becoming as huge and chiselled like the four perfect beings around him. The petrification spread from his head down to his feet, turning his warm skin into cold hard rock. Every new inch of stone brought a wave of mind-melting pleasure. His thoughts dissolved completely. There were no more worries... No more shame... Just the simple feeling of being perfect now. A muscle god. Immortalised in stone. Forever.

And as the petrification reached his chest, his nipples hardened into perfect stone buds, poking out from his now rock-hard pecs. The sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. He tried to moan, but his face couldn't move any more. The rest of his body followed, his arms and legs stiffening into the same perfect form as the other sentinels.

Finally, as the petrification reached his groin, his cock - already monstrous - gave one final, violent surge. And as the stone locked it solid, Jake's body suddenly convulsed. A massive, brain-shattering orgasm ripped through him. His heavy balls tightened hard as thick ropes of hot cum surged up his shaft… but there was nowhere for it to go. The load froze forever inside the rock, trapped mid-spurt deep inside his new stone cock - eternally throbbing, eternally cumming, but never able to shoot out. He had cum himself out inside the stone, the last of his human pleasure sealed away forever.

The transformation was complete.

Jake was no longer human. He had become another statue, a permanent sentinel of stone. His body was perfect, his mind blank, and his heart empty. But he was alive, forever eternally cumming inside his stone prison. Not that he cared anyway. He felt too good to care.

Anomaly Entity Status: [CONTAINED FOR STUDY]

On ██/██/████, AEGIS security was alerted to a containment breach at █████████ after night-shift cleaner Jake ██████ failed to check out at the end of his shift. Investigation revealed that the subject had accessed a previously sealed sub-basement chamber designated as a research ██████. The chamber had been hermetically sealed and removed from all official floor plans following the initial recovery of AE-919 in 20██. The door to the vault was not supposed to be operational or visible to non-cleared personnel.

Security footage shows the subject discovering an unmarked door that should not have been present. He entered the chamber at approximately 02:47. No further footage of the subject exists after 03:12.

Recovery teams arrived on site at 04:55 and found 5 instances of AE-919 instead of 4 inside the vault. The newest instance has been positively identified via facial structure analysis and pre-exposure DNA as former employee Jake ██████.

All five statues were successfully neutralised. They have been transferred to a reinforced, light-tight containment vault at ███████ under constant multi-angle camera surveillance. No personnel are permitted to view the statues without special authorization and mandatory full-face visors.

Photographs of Jake ██████, before and after being in contact with AE-919

Subject AE-919-005 (formerly Jake ██████) shows complete and irreversible petrification consistent with the other instances. Internal scans confirm the subject is still biologically active - specifically, the genital region remains in a permanent state of orgasm, with ejaculate trapped and pressurised inside the organs. The brain seems to have been liquefied and/or partially petrified. Nonetheless, MRI scans show signs of activity regardless of the lack of a functioning brain. We will need to conduct further testing to determine the exact nature of this activity.

Signed off by: Dr. Amara Patel

As is often the case, hot-headed Willie was even quicker to rage and has decided that this is all Brandon’s fault. “This is Not the place you showed me Brandon.” Drowning in an oversized flowy button-up, the sleeves fall down his pale arms as he throws them in the air. Willie’s face burns red with anger as his small form can scarcely maintain his explosive nature. Likewise, Brandon’s guilty expression tinges red with embarrassment so intense it’s physically painful.

“I- These aren’t the pictures that I was sent! I- it’s-” 

“She probably AI-Generated them gah- you ff- You dumbass!?”

“That’s? B- But that’s gotta be illegal though? Right!?” Trying to compact as much as possible, he rubs the back of his neck as his watery eyes look to Tyson, who promptly steps in to comfort him. Tearing up himself even as he tries to be the adult here and figure out their next steps, Tyson rubs his friend’s back.

“Brandon you’re not an idiot.”

Willie ignores the pair, as he rushes inside to find sinks that don’t work amongst creaking floorboards and cracked tiles, “Idiot or not, what-fucking-ever! What do we do about his mistake.”

Brandon toys with his tight necklace as he retreats into his cell-phone, as he is often wont to. Unable to focus on the hard reality before him, the programmer tunes Willie out entirely. Frantically typing away, he doesn’t even hear as Willie moans or screams at finding a note left by their landlord listing the litany of things to fix on the fridge. Dubbed their responsibility.

Suddenly feeling the lead weight of living with this couple for a year as prominently as the noose around his neck of living in an inhabitable house, Tyson sighs as he realizes he just needs to fully take charge of everything. Obviously that rent was too good to be true, now it’s time for him to start paying the real price. “Can you just hand me that list, Willie?”

Stamping over, Willie forces it into Tyson’s hands and watches as the most mature of the trio decides what their first order of business is to be in repairing their inhospitable, nigh-hostile, home. Hemming and hawing in a manner that makes him seem a tad older than he is, Tyson does his best wading into an arena he knows next to nothing about. Home Repair.

“I found a hardware store a block away,” Brandon whispers out sheepishly, looking to Tyson. Setting down the list, Tyson sighs and smiles slightly at Brandon before looking past him at the dozens of messes and issues they’ll need to deal with somehow or another. “Guess we can just walk then. I’m sure we’ll apparently be very frequent customers.”

And then they’re out the door. Tyson continues throwing together a to-do list, doing his best to surmise what tools parts they’ll need for the most urgent of jobs, despite near total ignorance. Watching him struggle, Brandon offers that they could just hire someone for this, already preparing to offer that he pays more than his share, something he certainly can’t afford. 

“It’s just we don’t know anything about this stuff right? Maybe the people in the shop can refer us to, like, some real men or-”

Having finally stilled his ire, at this Willie’s eye twitches, “Real men!? Real men. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You- You know what I mean! You’re deliberately misunderstanding me Willie. Right Tyson? Obviously that was a dig on you and me too! Tell him!”

Trying to focus on the task at hand Tyson physically inserts himself in between the pair, “Let’s try and not scream in public. Jesus Christ, you two…” Short walk done, Tyson pauses and squints up at the fix-it shop’s name: Tyson’s Tools “Oh? Wild..? Did you not notice that Brando?”

Brow furrowed, Brandon is just as surprised. He would’ve sworn it was called something else when he found it on his phone but checking back he can’t even find evidence he looked the place up. He must’ve missed it in all his stress. He doesn’t like having missed something so obvious.

Arms perpetually crossed, Willie leads the way. Pushing open the door with his back, he holds it open for his friends, “Maybe they’ll give you a discount Tyson. You really should ask.” Following behind Brandon, Willie bumps into him to try and be playful.

Having not even begun to earn cutesy aggression, the act is obviously read as a genuine shove and Brandon pushes him back, “Oh my God! Can you just stop being an asshole for a second Willie!” 

Watching with dead eyes as another spat breaks out in front of him, Tyson reflexively crumples the list in his hands. Can’t they just act their age. Now everyone in the store’s going to know they’re immature brats. Or they would? Looking around, Tyson’s surprised to find the store uncomfortably quiet. Empty. 

Looking back to the arguing not-couple, Tyson is happy to take the opportunity to step away and starts to wander through the aisles. He can get more done by himself anyway, so what if he’s never really picked up a wrench. He can figure this out. He must.

Sneaking into an aisle laden with rental tools, Tyson scratches his head as he confronts how little he knows. He’s absolutely in over his head. Huh, his head is a little itchy actually? Fingers trail through his light blonde locks, scratching with a little more intensity than he intended. Suddenly his whole scalp is prickling, almost burning. 

His hair feels thicker than it has for some time, like it did before he started dyeing it. Unbeknownst to the man trying to make his new situation work, spreading out from his roots his ever-bleached waves return to a brown-ish shade that can almost be described as blonde before surging even darker. 

Shortening into a tight crew cut, Tyson’s hair-tie falls to the floor as he simply continues scratching. Unable to focus on anything but the strange feeling of something happening to his hair follicles. Head suddenly far lighter with its lost load, he twitches his neck to reflexively shake away the long strands that shall never drape down his neck again. Feeling the prickle of his short spiky new-do as they firm up with gel he can almost remember putting on, Tyson chastises himself for losing focus.

Shaking his head one last time for good measure, his attention falls once more to the list in hand and he’s shocked at what he finds. Who on earth made a list so vague!? It’s almost useless! Chewing on his lip as he leans against the counter to rejig the equipment with knowledge that’s beginning to trickle into his head, with his free hand Tyson starts to scratch at his stomach as it begins to tighten up.

Far too similar to the annoying sensation that was just on his head, Tyson reaches beneath his shirt and feels up his sweaty belly. Shortening nails pull at a few long curls pushing onto his stomach. Scratching out ‘screwdriver’ to replace it with the actual head needed, the idea of growing a treasure trail suddenly replaces cogent thought before a far more pressing itch alights on his chest.

Not realizing that he’s beginning to sweat more than a reasonable amount, Tyson feels his white tee suction against his chest and looks down to find that it’s not from sweat alone. His chest has begun to bulge into pecs. Startled at his body changing, growing before his eyes, Tyson drops everything to gawk at his pecs pumping larger with every beat of his heart. 

Feeling up his pecs bulking larger, he can almost see as thick new tufts of hair surge forth and cover his new pecs like a tidy garden. New curls lancing forth into a garden that will only help his beautiful pecs catch more eyes.

His own eyes almost cross and a hand flies to his mouth as toned abs punch into his core beneath his heavy new pecs, thickening new happy trail carving its way up between them yearning more than anything to connect with the sweat-dripping patch decorating Tyson’s pecs. Gasping into a hand, he feels his ever-soft face scratch with stubble as a deliberately maintained mustache rubs against his rougher palm. 

On the other end, when his cock throbs amidst thicker pubes at feeling his assuredly more masculine face, Tyson can’t help but feel his heavy new cock and the throbbing balls beneath it. Trapped in boxers more than a size too small for their new mass, the pressure is almost too much for the growing man as he feels pre start to trickle enough to stain. 

And then before he can give way to the overwhelming sensation, the sound of Brandon and Willie arguing brings him falling back to lucidity. Panting slightly, Tyson can hardly believe that someone as diligent as himself was about to masturbate in his- er, the store. That is. 

Grumbling something vague in the direction of those two boys. Tyson bends down to grab the note someone must’ve dropped. Doing so produces a deep grunt from his throat. Clearing it once more when he stands, Tyson finds it rougher than it has any right to be. Dry mouth stretching back down his esophagus. 

No matter. There’s now a task before him again. Skin still dewing with sweat, Tyson does his best to ignore how his shirt strains more and more against widening shoulders and pecs still throbbing thicker. Editing the shopping list before him with a precision that would require decades of work in the field, Tyson clicks his tongue and scratches his short sweaty hair as he wonders how on Earth those two punks’ll ever get a single thing done on their place.

Rubbing his chin as shaved stubble starts to thicken into a neckbeard, he shakes off some deja vu and reasserts- Tyson doesn’t know how we’re going to get our place fixed up. To this end he starts the easy work of collecting the equipment and parts they’ll need. Doing so with ease and efficiency, grasping each heavy tool like a craftsman, in no time he’s amassed a load he should be struggling to carry. And yet, he’s not.

As the load he carries grows heavier with each new piece thrown under his arms or into a handy toolbox he’s stumbled across, so too does Tyson’s core put on more mass. Abs that only just laid themselves like bricks across his stomach begin to push out further, bulging into more of a muscle gut with every heavier step. Arms that were struggling to catch up to his prodigious pecs and new bulky traps suddenly throb larger with every new piece of added weight to body and load. 

Tears sear down his already strained tee as his torso barrels out. His treasure trail continues exploring up his stronger gut and his arms grow to a size that’ll easily eclipse his still-eyecatching pecs. And with each new tool handled, with every new bulging muscle packed onto his lengthening frame does his mind change even more.

Already struggling between two points of reference, that which recalls coming in today with his roommates and friends begins to wane more and more. The stubble on his face continues thickening as with every heaving breath produced by his thicker chest, memories from a new life begin to displace those which he thought was true.

Callouses from yardwork, woodwork, the gym, even just using a wrench as often as does, scratch against his neck as he rubs it with his fat new hands. Veins bulge larger on his arms and legs as they itch hairier, not from his still adding mass, but from the years- decades` accrued from living a life altogether different. Even his hair begins to speckle with salt as the man that only just recovered from over-bleaching begins to thin once more.

Wandering back to the front with a load of tools weighing twice as much as the heaviest thing he’s ever carried, Tyson finds himself walking past a mirror. When’d he put that in. Frowning and crossing his arms he figures Willie must’ve thrown it up, that cocky little loafer. Still, looking at his chest fur and built ass, he figures he might as well leave it there. Never hurts to inspect the goods and all.

Suddenly built like a brick shithouse, strength oozes out of every veiny chunk of muscle. Hand scratching at his sweaty beard he has a vague memory of looking more refined, a body built for ogling rather than hard work. But why’d he ever waste time on vanity like that. No, he’s a man of substance. 

He then squints at his face as a few wrinkles etch across his eyes. “What the heck?” No heed is paid to the rough, deeper baritone that echoes through the store. No, when faced with aging quicker than he swears he should, he simply can’t appreciate his dulcet new tone.

“Swear I shouldn’t look a day over uh, 35? No. No, I’m younger than that?” His mind keeps throwing ages out, each feeling less real than the last. His back aches more as his mind weighs heavier with memories from a life far longer lived. Looking down at weathered hands and his straining pecs as his chest fur grows thicker, as his hairline retreats as his muscle gut rounds out ever-so-slight more, he finds something grounding. 

Clear as day he remembers celebrating his fiftieth last year with his boys. Willie and Brandon. He doesn’t quite remember hiring them, it’s like they’ve been with him the whole time despite that being impossible. Scratching the new underside of his belly he grumbles like any heavyset older man does.  

Where are those good-for-nothin’s. Better not still be at home. Muttering to himself he at last returns to the front of the store to find neither of them. Setting the toolbox down with a loud clang he rolls his eyes. Must be helping the customer he grabbed these for. Yeah, that makes sense. In the meantime, Tyson’ll just wait here and try not to get off from looking at his reflection in Willie’s new mirror. Bulge throbbing larger with each stolen glance as he continues to fill out.

● ● ● ● ● ●

Speaking of the devils. Willie and Brandon have continued arguing for far longer than either had expected. Usually when they’re not dating they’re good as gravy, but this majorly shitty situation has both men well past their breaking points. 

After Willie ignores what Brandon’s saying for the Nth time to score another cheap dig, Brandon opts to just abandon him for now to salvage any momentary peace of mind. Whining that they all signed the lease as he wills himself to be done for now, Brandon goes off to where he thinks Tyson is. Willie just watches him go, eyebrow twitching into a scowl all the while.

“Fine! Be that way bitch! You know Ty’s on my side!” Lips pursed so tight they’re almost white, Willie stamps his foot. “Ugh!”

Standing there. Now alone. Willie finds himself even more sour without a sounding board to tear into as now the only thing to reflect on is how shitty he’s been to Brandon and Tyson. No, there's no sense to pretend he’s been scattershot, how shitty he’s been to Brandon alone.

As soon as Brandon’s out of sight,  Willie takes a few deep breaths as his best friend-cum-frequent ex meekly suggested he do a few times over. While it helps slow his mind and calm his racing heart. It does little to help Willie’s literally hot head. 

In fact, it feels like he’s still heating up. Looking down to find small sweat stains in his pale blue shirt under his arms, irritation resurfaces anew now at this shitty toolshop. Refusing to look sloppier than necessary even in this most masc of stores, Willie opts to just remove the offending garment. 

Mouth twitching into a frown as he struggles to undo each button in turn, he can’t believe how slippery his hands are from sweat. Griping to himself that his deodorant better hold up, he at last gets the shirt uncinched and lets it fall to the floor heedlessly. Doing so it becomes little more than dingy rags sold by the store. Willie doesn’t notice however, he’s far too preoccupied with his lip still twitching.

Burning even. Reaching up almost fearfully, Willie gasps in shock as he finds something on his face. A moustache? No, it can’t be. His soft fingertips feel around in surprise at the wiry hairs pushing out against his upper lip before his palm feels too the push of long tangled strands pushing out from his chin.

Wondering when, wondering how his face somehow skipped stubble straight to this scraggly facial hair combo as sweat continues to trickle through hair growing greasier by the second, he glances down at his arm to find that strangeness does not stop at his newly scratchy upper lip. Willie’s eyes trail down his wrist to find his bicep looking larger than it ought. 

Watching with interest, his upper arm twitches larger with every miniscule movement of his fingers.Gasping in shock as he sees his arm truly peak with muscle for the first time in his life, with the deep breath he discovers a byproduct of his amassing muscle and the heat of this hellish store. It’s just as he feared.

Easily overpowering his usually faultless deodorant, Willie smells musk pouring from his pits like he’s never experienced before. And yet with every breath he craves the scent more. Eventually tearing his eyes away from a bicep he wants to take a bite out of, Willie looks to his hitherto hairless pits to instead find thick, dripping strands of pit hair. Curling like a bush, thicker than his trimmed pubes, as he watches Willie sees more and more skin buried beneath the tangle as it grows denser and spreads forth like weeds overtaking a sidewalk. 

It takes everything within him not to reach in to scratch the jungle for the sole purpose of smelling his musky, stained digits afterwards. The idea sets a needy fire in his stomach, and a far more pressing one throbbing in his crotch. Desperately trying to focus on anything besides the alluring sensations overtaking his body, he quickly finds it an impossible task. 

Sweat streaming in rivulets down his heavier arms, the scritch and squelch of his sweaty pits as he tries to move, it’s just overwhelming. Willie simply can’t help it as his hands keep inching towards his crotch, clearly growing its own burgeoning bush, challenged by his pits. Stopping just short, Willie allows compromises with his Id to instead just scratch at said bush as it creeps up into a new treasure trail.

Stealing a glance at this thick trail, he’s surprised to see his undershirt catching further up his waist than it usually does, exposing an adonis belt like he’s never seen. Willie’s concerns and frown are quickly washed away as a cocky smirk etches its way onto his face. Staring needily at his pubes rising into a tapered highway, he starts to wonder why he’s wearing a shirt at all. Why’d he want to hide this figure for a second? 

Almost as if he’s willing himself larger as heat continues to rise, Willie raises his muscular arms behind his head and hears his ribs crack wider. His spine stretches longer as muscle easily fills the new real estate. Pecs immediately swell enough to stuff his shirt to its breaking point and with one hand he tears it off and throws it to the floor.

Scratching his prickling ass with one hand and pubes with his other, feet that burst free from confines without his notice leave sweaty footprints in his wake as he finds his way over to a mirror he has a vague memory of setting up so he can always check his physique. Gotta look good for customers and all. It’s what he’s here for.

Pits thickening even further as sweat trickles down the sides of his chest in rivulets, Willie takes time to inspect every new bulging muscle group. “Fucckk I look so fucking hot…” Vocal fry tinges every word as his adams apple bulges larger to convert his whiny buzz into a deep rumble. 

And yet, even as his eyes swim in washboard abs, even as his hands scratch through picturesque stubble and his mind struggles to focus as his heady musk derails his own train of thought. He’s filled with a need for more. 

Could do with some chest hair. What was it that bitch said, that he wasn’t a real man? Willie’ll show him. Scowling as a few curls begin to circle around his hard nipples and speckles the center of his pert pecs, Willie feels his attention drawn ever south as the root of those most hormonal of changes begin to overwhelm him. 

Hard as a pipe, Will bites his lip as he feels his thickening cock struggle for room, jostling against the heavy balls that must be fueling his new masculine changes. Sucking up drool snaking from his lips, as he desperately tries to adjust his similarly dripping pants Willie struggles maneuvering his thick limbs around his chest. Finally getting a meaty paw in his pants he grunts as he tries to pull at his surely stained underwear before pausing with a dumb look.

Wait, Will laughs to himself. He’s not wearing any underwear. Sticky hand venturing back into the shorts he’s free-balling in, Will adjusts and wipes the pre that stains his hand into his hairy chest before giving his hand a good sniff. Doing so he feels the new stubbly beard that has spread across his jaw like a stain, connecting sideburns, moustache and erasing his goatee to instead have a perfect beard.

Hips twitching forward as his cock throbs in tight shorts, the horny, sweaty, horny man looks around the store in search of relief. Pent up like he’s gone weeks without cumming, Will worries he might just blow his load if he makes a single wrong move. Taking another deep breath of his sweaty pits certainly doesn’t help as he moans into the open air of the store, barely keeping it in his pants as his cock keeps snaking out of his shorts. 

“Fuuuuck~ Where’s Brandon when you need him.”

Panting as he holds back from losing control, barely able to walk without humping into the air, with all the willpower the oafish man’s able to summon Will narrowly avoids an orgasm. Hearing his boss grumbling from a nearby aisle he jolts up and starts to pretend to look busy before remembering he doesn’t care. “Fuck that, lol” With a smirk and a clear lurch due to the still raging boner he wanders off into the stacks in search of Brandon to help him blow a load.

● ● ● ● ● ●

One cannot overstate how bad Brandon feels about the hefty part he played in this massive mess. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, what they’re going to do. All their stuff is sitting in a uhaul outside a building more hovel than home. 

Wondering how non-professionals can even begin to fix a broken window, Brandon stares at tools and material he can’t begin to imagine a purpose for. Picking up a ratchet he struggles to think of something, anything he can possibly do to help Tyson before just tossing it back down.

He just feels so stupid! Trying not to tear up again he turns to Tyson. Wait, he would’ve sworn he was following Tyson and yet his bos- er, friend is nowhere to be found. Frowning, brows furrowed from his anxiety, Brandon paces back and forth trying to brainstorm anything he can possibly offer to ameliorate even a shred of their situation.

It’s not long at all before the same oppressive heat that affected his friends begins to fall upon him as well. Looking up to make sure he’s not standing under a vent, Brandon wonders why on earth the toolshop even has their heater on. He was already working up a sweat on the way just from the brisk walk from their wretched home. 

Unwilling to shed his shirt like Willie did, Brandon does his best to respectfully fan it, tugging at his neckline to usher air down his thin chest. After a few drags his lips squirm as unexpectedly, this tickles. Refusing to giggle and risk attracting Willie to his location, he stifles it and looks down his shirt to find whatever’s tickling him.

His sweat immediately shifts cold as underneath his heavy, sweat-stained shirt in the center of his chest he finds a few surly strands of chest hair beginning to sprout. Now, Brandon’s never been hairless but chest hair has always eluded him, and now there’s a healthy patch beginning to spread between his two thicker nipples. To say nothing of the even lengthier swirls encircling them.

And then his mind goes to Willie. Willie always wanted him to shave, wanted him smooth. Shivering from the ticklish curls working their way up his lither stomach, Brandon frowns as he tries to push Willie from his mind. They’re not even dating right now! He doesn’t even owe that jerk anything. If he wants to grow chest hair it’s his right! And oh does he want to get hairier.

Tense beyond belief, convincing himself that his still-growing chest hair has been there for a minute, Brandon doesn’t notice as his thin body firms up under the shirt. Veins bulge and pulse down his thin arms as their sinewy fibers expand and throb larger, inching closer to filling his sleeves more with every shrug and anxious twitch. The slight pudge on his stomach rapidly tightens into limber rows of abs below the perfect foundation for pecs to burst from on his chest.

Sick of feeling trapped in his mind, totally unaware as his body continues to change beneath his notice, in order to ground himself Brandon attempts to focus on the store’s fixtures around him. Doing so brings back frustration aplenty as his real troubles simply reignite. Stamping his feet he whines about their motley crew being wholly unable to essentially rebuild a house. 

They’re absolutely useless! What is a programmer to do on a construction site!? As soon as the thought occurs it’s like his mind hits a brick wall. Brandon pauses, a programmer? That’s what he is, right? Replaying the sentiment, the idea gets less familiar with every pass. Pretty sure he’s got a CS degree? He’s good with computers for sure. He thinks?

His mind starts leaking memory like a faulty program. The handful of programming languages he made sure to at least be familiar with fade one by one. Memories of slaving over simple games and messy code burn away like flash paper as he sees sunshine breaking through a house frame he helped put up. He- He’s not a prog-? He’s never been all that good with techy stuff…

Staring at his hands before him, Brandon watches as smooth thin digits more accustomed to a keyboard begin to crack and bulge wider. Soft fingers give way to skin that seems as rough as sandpaper, and as dirty as the bottoms of his feet. 

Woozy and nearly hyperventilating, Brandon leans against the counter behind him. Feeling his back prickling with goosebumps as his body hair erupts even thicker on his small tummy. New leathery mitts catch the edge of a shelf just in time too as his legs cramp and burn with a soreness like he’s never felt. 

His shaky legs are like jelly beneath him as from top to bottom his body grows more compact. Losing a few inches, the man who was already shorter than his companions feels his lost height shift into extra mass on his limbs. Already thicker thighs bulge with power and strength as biceps finally strain his sleeves enough to tear through his shirt even as it changes into a tougher fabric more suitable for his line of work. Muscles contorting thicker, Brandon feels the straining muscles throb larger as his highest operating level continues to drop.

Mind still speeding despite his processing power absolutely tanking, Brandon tries to slow his thoughts down and focus on his changing body. Retreating into said muscled-up body is surprisingly far easier than it should be. Which should concern him. Instead as he focuses on the feeling of his more powerful arms flexing, as he smells the musky pits hidden beneath them, he feels all worry drift away. 

Why should he be upset about being bigger, being stronger? They needed someone to fix up their place didn’t they? Squinting his eyes and scratching his greasy hair, he realizes he doesn’t really remember what place he’s thinking about? Tyson’s place is fine?

Rubbing his hands down thighs more akin to pistons, feeling their thick curls scratch against his rough fingers, Brandon can’t help but grin. And then he rests his hands on his new waist, playing with the darker expanse of hair on his stomach as he rejoices in his rapidly clearing mind. 

He’s a little hungry? 

Stomach rumbling, his eyes slowly scan the floor before him and while nothing immediately catches his interest, when he sees a lunchkit with his name on it, well. What else is he to do but have a bite. And so he does. It must be his and all, he simply forgot about it!

Tearing it open to find a sandwich, his eyes are larger than his stomach as he devours it hastily before reaching in hoping there is more to find in the bag, and so there is until he’s as full as he desires. Which takes quite some time.

So distracted by hunger, consumed by taste, Brandon doesn’t notice as with every bite and swallow his muscular form changes all the more. Rapidly mass begins piling on atop his bulky muscle. Abs are swiftly hidden behind a sizable layer of fat as his pecs grow softer from healthy weight.

Patting his delectable stomach with a content smirk, he struggles not to burp as he loosens his workbelt. While his physique may have plateaued, the jungle still racing across his body makes it clear that his new fur coat has not slowed. Above his heavy ass the curls inching much higher above his waistline are caught in his belt causing him to yelp before guffawing. 

While he thought he was hairy before, fur enough to call himself a beast makes it clear that this was not the case. His face that had only ever known stubble is soon hugged by a thick, now crumb-filled, neckbeard. One that will require constant maintenance not to encroach upon his upper cheeks or even connect with his thicker eyebrows. Should the beyond-low-maintenance man ever care enough to do so. 

Below the neck thicks grow even hairier. The few chest hairs that Brandon was initially excited over are absolutely buried beneath a tidal wave of new coverage. Pouring over his shoulders and down his upper arms, yearning to connect with his hairier forearms, Brandon’s upper body is almost entirely coated in a consistent jungle of fur. 

Raising an arm to inspect pits staining through his shirt as he continues eating, Brandon recoils from the musk before laughing. As the thick, sticky curls of his pits reach out to connect with that all-consuming tangle. For half a beat something about laughing about his b.o. feels wrong, but then he shrugs the concern off with ease. 

Stink’s funny. And if it’s not funny it’s hot. 

Sitting there having forgotten what task or another Tyson asked him to do this morning, he feels his dick throb as he smells something else in the air, and hears the all too familiar sound of some horny stud stomping towards him. Turning around there’s the foggiest memory of the Willie he knew before that’s displaced by the Man before him.

Brandon can hardly think at the best of times, sitting there, eyeing Will’s heavy bulge and ravenous eyes there’s only one thing on his mind. Falling to the floor he finds even more cushion on his ass as it fills out entirely and finishes covering with curls thick enough to rival those on his head, Brandon yearns to be filled.

Looking up just in time to see Will sprint over, champing at the bit and pawing at a cock clearly throbbing and dripping down his leg, Brandon does what anyone would and falls onto his back presenting himself. Will almost goes feral as he charges down the aisle. He doesn’t remember being mad, he doesn’t remember anything at all besides his need to fuck Brandon. 

Likewise Brandon doesn’t remember a worry in the world, their wretched rental is not a problem. Nothing is. Feeling himself pushed across the floor of Tyson’s shop as Will thrusts harder with every hump, he tries to moan before Will stuffs his fist in his mouth to stop him. 

Standing above, ever-aggressive Will feels his body harden into one made for this and this alone. His beard retracts into stubble as his moustache thickens out even more, emblematic of the dom he has always yearned to be. 

Lying below, gagging on the dirty fist in his mouth, the rest of Brandon’s too-complicated memories and concerns drift away alongside his skill at anything besides helping Tyson around the shop. Carrying the strength of an apprentice, and always hungry to serve however he’s able.

And then almost as soon as they began, Will finishes up and starts to leave Brandon a cum-covered heap on the floor. Tyson doesn’t like when they’re fucking on the clock, let alone in the store. Looking down at the ecstasy in Brandon’s eyes, Will smirks and leans down to lick the sweat off his lover’s legs as he yanks the man’s pants up and pulls him to standing.

Just in time too as when Brandon wobbles to his feat, Tyson yells from the front, “Boys! What am I payin’ you for! Get up here!”

Rushing to the front Will’s first to find the new Tyson as Brandon wobbles behind with eyes almost as glazed as his ass. There they find that briefly double take as Tyson has finished changing into their senior. Into their burly bearish boss.

Hand on his muscle gut and frown clear on his face, even through the beard absolutely covering his mouth, Tyson waits for them to explain themselves despite already knowing exactly what’s afoot. Will poorly feigns cluelessness as he adjusts his package. Behind him Brandon can scarcely string two thoughts together as he recovers from being reamed so.

“Which one of you was supposed to open the store for the day?”

Will looks to Brandon who slowly looks to find the ‘Store Open’ sign pointing the wrong way. “Oh, uh oh? Sorry… It should probably be facing the other way. Right, Sir?”

Tyson sighs and goes to fix the sign before gesturing to a heavy toolbox on the table, “In any case I got a delivery to be run out if either of you are interested. Some kids down the block need to rent some tools.” 

Watching his eye-candy employee regard the box with disinterest he changes his mind, “Second thought might as well both go, I can handle the legions sure to come in today.” Will frowns as Brandon brightens up and makes for the toolbox, grunting as he heaves it out the door. 

Feeling peckish himself he tacks on one last request, “Y’know what boys take the truck ‘n get me lunch while you’re at it. Have fun, now. Don’t you fuck in the company truck!”

Slightly more into the idea now that the boss man’s told them not to, Will feels like he’s about ready to go again as he watches Brandon heave the box into the trunk. Hopping into the cabin it’s immediately filled with their musk, already heightened from their recent tryst.

Will immediately forces a fist into Brandon’s pants and before he can protest that Tyson asked them not to, he’s already forgotten what it was the problem was. And so, one hand on the wheel, the other on Brandon’s shaft Will keeps working hard as he ever has while Brandon delights in the peace of mind that’s always eluded him. 

Grumbling to himself, sure that Will’s already working hard to add more stains to their old shitbox, Tyson complains to the empty store, “One of these days those boys’re gonna have to grow up.” After making sure they didn’t leave too much of a mess in the aisle earlier he softens up shaking his head with a smirk as he collects a single cum-stained garment from the floor, hardening up elsewhere. 

Jack and Rick were not having a good day. Their flight had been delayed and they were stuck in the airport, bickering about whose fault it was that their client meeting had bombed. They decided to get a drink at the bar, where the very friendly bartender insisted that they try his signature cocktail… “The Golden Arrow.”

The cocktail was actually quite good, easing some of the stress from the day and loosening their tongues as they commiserated about work. The two had worked together for years but never really talked too much.

After a few drinks, the formalities of being coworkers started to fade, and they began to talk about things other than work. That’s when Rick blurted out, “Sometimes I wish I could just find a nice sugar daddy to take care of me so I wouldn’t have to worry about work.”

Jack wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but before he realized what he was doing, he added, “I’ve always had a thing for Latino bad boys… the more tattoos the better.”

The conversation came to a crashing halt as the two men sat awkwardly, realizing what they had just admitted to each other. Jack stood up and mumbled that he needed to use the restroom, quickly leaving the bar.

Jack ran to the nearest restroom and splashed some water on his face. Rick had stayed at the bar and ordered another drink. Both were unsure what had just happened… and that’s when it started. A slight flutter in their stomachs and a warm sensation spreading through their bodies.

Jack stared at his reflection in disbelief—was his hair turning gray? At the bar, Rick was staring at his hand—were those tattoos forming on his arm?

Jack watched as his features sharpened and his hair silvered into that of a distinguished older man, still full of vitality. He was filled with a confidence he had never felt before as he slipped on his suit jacket.

Meanwhile, Rick felt a comforting prickling sensation as his skin became a warm, rich tan. Ink spread across his entire body, and his hair grew into thick, luscious curls. He pulsed with youthful energy and virility.

Jack—no, he was Jackson—hurried back to the bar to show Rick what had happened, only to find the man of his dreams waiting for him. The man let out a breathy “¡Ay, mi papi!”… Was this really Rick? Or was it Rico? Were they coworkers? No, that wasn’t right… lovers?

The bartender cleared his throat and handed them another pair of drinks, saying, “Another round for the happy couple, on the house.”

Rico leaned into Jackson and whispered, “I can’t wait to rip that suit off of you. ¡Diache, estás que abusas!”

He knocked twice on the door, polite but firm.

The door opened on a guy who could have been anyone. Mid-twenties, wire-rimmed glasses, brown hair sticking up in every direction, wearing white T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Alex, the app said. Just another lonely customer who’d probably spent the night alone with his phone and a bottle of cheap wine.

“Eighteen fifty,” Ethan said, holding out the warm box.

Alex reached for his wallet on the little entry table. “Yeah, uh… keep the change, man. Sorry it’s so late. I guess you had better things planed for tonight.” Alex said kindly to Ethan as he kept looking for his wallet before handing the money. “Here you go, and you can keep the change. Thanks!” Alex finished as he grabbed the warmed pizza box from Ethan’s hands. The hallway lights flickered and unbeknown to them both, an invisible presence just happened to fly away from the gay couple apartment’s next door. “Looks like I still have time for one more gift for tonight…” Cupid said as he watched Ethan giving the pizza box to Alex. Cupid got closer and still being invisible, he smiled cockily as he exhaled a deep sensual gush of warm pheromones straight in Ethan’s opened mouth.

Ethan suddenly felt like a warm wave invaded his body and suddenly, the light around faded from his eyesight. The floor rushed up at him. He grabbed for the doorframe, but his fingers slid off the wood. His knees folded like wet paper.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Alex lunged, catching him under the arms before he could hit the mat. The guy was stronger than he looked; his grip was solid, warm. “You okay, dude? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Ethan’s head spun. His skin prickled with sudden heat. “I… yeah. Just… long night. Overdid it, I guess. Sorry.”

Alex didn’t let go. “No worries, man. Come inside for a second. Sit down. I’ll grab you some water. You’re not driving like this.”

Before Ethan could argue, Alex was guiding him over the threshold, kicking the door shut with his heel. The apartment smelled like stale popcorn and laundry detergent. A single lamp cast a soft yellow glow. The pizza box landed on the coffee table with a soft thump.

Cupid followed them just before the door closed and hovered invisibly near the ceiling, wings half-folded, one golden sandal swinging lazily. His golden tanned skin caught no light yet; the open toga clung to every carved line of his body. His thick cock was already hard, leaking a thin, glowing strand of pink precum. He licked his lips, eyes bright with bored cruelty.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” He said to no one as his cock spasmed in the air, making a drop of precum fall directly on Alex’s bare arms.

Alex felt the same feeling Ethan had just been through as the precum was absorbed directly in his blood. Cupid smirked watching his precum disappearing and both of the boys slowly gaining back their composure as they were now slowly looking at each other’s in the eyes.

The thought bloomed in both their heads at once, thick and sweet and impossible to ignore.

God… he’s so hot.

Ethan blinked. The idea felt wrong, alien, but it was already sinking in, warm and sticky. Alex’s messy hair, the way his shirt hung off his shoulders, the faint stubble on his jaw… suddenly it all looked good. Really good.

Alex’s breath caught. His cheeks flushed dark. “Fuck… why is it so warm in here?”

Neither of them questioned it. The thought just felt right.

Ethan’s hands moved on their own. He tugged at the zipper of his uniform jacket; it slid off and pooled on the floor. Alex mirrored him, yanking the shirt over his head, revealing a soft, pale torso. Ethan’s pants followed, then Alex’s sweatpants. They stood there in the dim light, Ethan in his boxer briefs, Alex in nothing but socks, both of them breathing harder than the situation called for.

Cupid drifted lower, cock in hand, stroking slowly. You should jerk off, he whispered into their skulls. It feels so fucking good.

Ethan’s fingers wrapped around his cock through the fabric, stroking lazily. A low groan slipped out. Alex did the same, eyes half-lidded, jerking himself with slow, dreamy pulls.

“Sorry dude, … I just have to,” Ethan murmured, but his voice was thick, almost smiling. “God… You are so hot.”

Alex nodded, stepping closer. “Thanks. You are not bad looking either.” He answered getting closer and closer in a seductive tone.

Cupid chuckled silently, pre-cum dripping onto the carpet.

The next thought slid in even deeper as Cupid got closer to Ethan’s opened ears: On your knees. Taste him.

Ethan dropped without hesitation, knees hitting the carpet. He looked up at Alex with glassy, hungry eyes, then leaned forward and took the dude’s cock into his hungry watering mouth.

The taste was salty, warm, intoxicating. Ethan’s lips stretched around the shaft, tongue swirling, sucking with eager, sloppy enthusiasm. Alex groaned, fingers threading through Ethan’s hair, hips rocking gently. “Fuck… yeah, just like that…”

Ethan bobbed his head, taking more, gagging softly when the head hit the back of his throat. His own cock throbbed untouched in his briefs, leaking into the fabric. He was lost in the haze, moaning around the thick length, saliva dripping down his chin.

Cupid floated directly above them, legs spread, jerking himself in time with Ethan’s bobs. “That’s it, boys,” he purred to the empty air. “Get him nice and wet for what’s coming.”

After a few minutes Alex pulled Ethan off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting his lips to the glistening cock. He stood, spun Ethan around, and bent him over the back of the couch.

The blunt head of Alex’s cock pressed against Ethan’s hole.

And suddenly, the fog of lust in Ethan’s mind shattered as he realized what was happening while Sarah crossed his lost mind.

Reality slammed back into Ethan like ice water as Sarah’s heartwarming laugh echoed in his ears and brought him back.

“What the fuck am I…,” His eyes flew wide. He was bent over, completely naked, ass up. Alex’s cock was right there, hot and slick and pushing.

“No, wait, stop!” Ethan gasped, trying to twist away. But his body wouldn’t obey. His hole was slick, open, aching. Alex pushed forward anyway still lost in the maze of Cupid’s lust.

The first inch slid in.

Ethan’s scream was pure terror. “Get off me! I’m not… I have a girlfriend! I’m straight, I’m…”

Laughter exploded from the ceiling, bright, delighted, vicious. “THE FUCK IS THIS!!!” Ethan screamed as he heard Cupid’s laugh and voice and suddenly the fog covering and hiding Cupid’s presence vanished slowly, revealing his presence to Ethan’s aware eyes.

“Oh finally,” the voice sang. “I was getting bored watching you two idiots go slow.”

The first pale gold of sunrise crept over the windowsill.

Cupid began to appear clearer and clearer.

It started at his feet, golden Spartiate’s laced up thick, sculpted calves, the leather straps gleaming as the light touched them. Then his legs materialized, tanned and powerful. His cock came next, thick and veined and still leaking glowing pink. The open grey toga fluttered into view, clinging to a torso carved like a god thanks to a heart shaped golden broach. Black angel wings unfurled behind him. Finally, his face, beautiful, cruel, lips curled in a smirk.

He floated there fully visible now, cock in hand, watching them with open hunger.

Ethan’s eyes locked on the creature. His stomach dropped through the floor. “What the… who the fuck are you?!”

Cupid’s smirk widened, slow and predatory. “Me? Let’s just say I’m the one who gifts love once a year on a special occasion like this special day, princess.”

Without warning, Cupid’s hips bucked forward in the air. His massive cock throbbed violently, the slit flaring open, and with a single blink of the eye looking at Ethan’s gapped mouth, he came, not normal cum, but a thick, glowing arrow of solidified seed that shot from his tip like a crossbow bolt. The arrow streaked through the air and slammed straight into Alex’s chest with a wet thwack as it vanished instantly, getting absorbed in his soul and skin.

Alex’s body exploded with power, he didn’t even realize they were not alone in the room anymore.

Muscle detonated across his frame in violent, wet surges. Shoulders broadened with audible cracks, widening until they strained the air around him. His chest ballooned outward into heavy, veined slabs of pec meat, nipples hardening into dark, sensitive coins. Abs carved themselves into deep, ridged valleys that flexed with every thrust. Arms thickened into veined pythons, biceps peaking like softballs. Legs became tree trunks, calves and quads swelling with raw, brutal power. His face sharpened, jaw squaring, cheekbones rising, stubble darkening into a perfect five-o’clock shadow that made him look dangerously handsome. And his cock, still buried balls-deep inside Ethan, swelled brutally, thickening to the girth of a wrist, lengthening until Ethan could feel the head pressing against his stomach from the inside. A fat, throbbing knot formed at the base, locking them together with a wet, obscene pop.

Alex’s new voice was a deep, rumbling growl, but his eyes stayed glassy, lost in the maze Cupid had woven. He didn’t wake. He just kept thrusting, hips snapping with machine-like power, the knot grinding relentlessly against Ethan’s rim.

Ethan twisted his head, horror flooding his face in a cold wave. “Alex, Alex, look at you, oh God, what the fuck, you’re… you’re huge… this isn’t real, this can’t be happening…”

Cupid laughed again, already stroking himself with long, lazy pulls aiming for Ethan now. His cock pulsed once more. “Time for round two, princess!” Cupid said as Ethan turned his back to Cupid only to watch him jerking off his huge dick one last time and laughing hard. Another glowing cum-arrow erupted from the tip.

It struck him square in the sternum.

The heat hit him like molten lava pouring straight into his bones as Ethan started to scream in pure terror as he kept on watching Alex’s feral face thrusting deep in him.

His shoulders narrowed with a sickening pop, bones shifting, muscle melting away like warm wax. His chest deflated, then swelled again, soft, perky mounds forming where hard pecs had been, nipples puffing into sensitive pink buds that throbbed in the cool air. His waist cinched brutally tight, ribs pulling inward until he felt like he might snap in half. His ass surged outward in two heavies, jiggling waves, fat piling on in obscene amounts, cheeks rounding into perfect heart-shaped globes that clapped wetly with every brutal thrust from Alex. He felt his anus start to spasm and contract around Alex’s cock. He could feel it getting, puffy and slick, drooling sweet fluid down his smooth thighs in steady streams. His cock, still seven and a half full inches, remained, but the rest of his body had become almost completely smooth and delicate: slender limbs, a tiny waist, a soft, boyish chest with almost no muscle definition at all. He looked like the ultimate twink, fragile, fuckable, utterly helpless.

Ethan stared down at his transformed body in pure, gut-wrenching panic. His mind was still screaming that this was all a nightmare. He could see Sarah’s smiling face as they wake up side by side while he felt Alex’s thrusting deep in him, now almost clearly seeing the bulge created by his cock through his stomach. “No, no, please, this isn’t me, give it back, give my body back… You can’t do this…”

Cupid’s laughter rang out again, low and filthy, echoing off the walls. “Don’t worry princess, we still have some more time before the sun rise and I’m sure you’ll fall in love with the results!”

Cupid drifted lower, wings beating lazily, and reached down to one of his golden Spartiate’s. With a flick of his fingers, he pulled free a long, shimmering ribbon of pure golden, shimmering silk that seemed to pulse with inner light, glowing faintly pink at the edges.

“These are godly ribbons, princess,” he purred, voice dripping with mock tenderness as he floated closer. “Once they’re tied, only a god can untie them. And I’m feeling very generous tonight for a secondary gift.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in fresh terror as Cupid approached. The creature was breathtakingly beautiful, golden skin, black wings, that massive leaking cock, but the smile on his face was pure sadism. Ethan tried to pull away, but Alex’s knot held him fast, the bigger man still pounding away like a machine.

“No, stay away, don’t touch me, please, I’m begging you, don’t…”

Cupid ignored him completely smiling to the vision of Ethan’s hard and leaky cock in front of him. He knelt in the air right in front of Ethan’s still-hard cock, the ribbon dangling from his fingers like a promise. Ethan could feel the heat radiating off the god’s body, smell the sweet, musky scent of his arousal. “Yes, that’ll do perfectly…” Cupid said to himself between Alex’s feral moans.

The ribbon moved on its own.

It slithered forward like a living serpent, cool and silky at first, then warm as it made contact. It wrapped around the very base of Ethan’s 7.5-inch shaft, then began to coil upward, slow, deliberate, loop after loop, encircling every inch of his length all the way to the sensitive tip. The silk tightened with each turn, squeezing gently but insistently, pulsing in time with his frantic heartbeat. It felt alive, warm, throbbing, almost affectionate in the most humiliating way. Ethan whimpered, hips twitching uselessly, his cock twitching and leaking despite the terror flooding his veins.

“It’s too tight, fuck, it hurts, please, take it off, I can’t… This is not supposed to feel like this…”

Cupid leaned in closer, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. He exhaled slowly, a warm, glowing puff that washed over the ribbon.

The silk melted and sank into Ethan’s flesh.

It disappeared completely, merging seamlessly with his skin until there was no trace of it left. But the effect was immediate and devastating. Ethan’s erection collapsed in a single, humiliating instant, his cock softening, shrinking, becoming completely limp and useless in the open air. No matter how hard his mind screamed for it to rise, how much he felt the need to get hard, nothing happened. It just hung there, soft and defeated, the blood draining away as if the ribbon had stolen every drop of arousal from his body forever.

Ethan’s breath hitched into a broken sob. “OMG! No… no, please, not like this… What have you done?!… what did you do to me? Stop this wicked game, please, turn us back, I’m begging you, turn us back to how we were! I don’t even know this dude!!”

Cupid only smiled wider.

But before he continued, he flicked his wrist and pulled a second gift from the folds of his toga, a thick, gleaming golden cord, warm and heavy, pulsing with the same inner light as the ribbon. He floated behind Alex, reached down, and wrapped the cord snugly around the base of the new jock’s massive cock and heavy balls, tying it in a firm, intricate knot. Then he exhaled the same glowing breath.

The cord melted and merged into Alex’s skin, vanishing completely. Alex’s balls swelled even larger, skin stretching tight as they filled with impossible volume. His cock throbbed harder inside Ethan, the knot pulsing with new power and need to breed. Stamina flooded the jock’s body, endless, relentless. “There we go, like that, nobody is jealous.” Cupid said as he watched Ethan’s limp cock jumping between his legs while he floated back above them both.

“Here’s the deal, princess,” Cupid said, voice silky and cruel. “I’m not a monster. As I said, I’m a giver of love. You want to turn back? You can! As long as you don’t cum before the sun touches your skin, everything reverts. You go back to being boring old straight Ethan. Back to Sarah. Back to your sad little life. But if you cum before that light kisses you… this is forever. New body. New life. Deal? Great!”

As he spoke, Alex’s thrusts grew frantic thanks to Cupid’s secondary gift. The enhanced jock body was moving on pure instinct now, deeper, harder, the knot slamming against Ethan’s rim with wet, obscene slaps. Ethan could feel Alex’s newly supercharged balls drawing up tight, the head flaring, the knot locking tighter, the bigger man’s stamina making every stroke feel like it could go on forever.

“You mean we can turn back? OMG, we have to. I can’t stay like that! Fuck why does he thrust harder!! OMG WHY DOES HE THRUST HARDER?!” Ethan screamed realized what was about to happen “No, no, Alex, don’t, please, I’m begging you…”

Alex’s glassy eyes rolled back. His massive chest heaved. He let out a deep, guttural moan that shook the walls. The truth is, Alex had no one he could hold on to to escape Cupid’s daze of lust and love, and Cupid’s knew that. With one final thrust, Alex moaned louder then before and with that Ethan screamed knowing what was now inevitable.

Alex came, just before the first golden fingers of sunlight brushed the very tips of his toes.

Thick, endless ropes of hot jock cum flooded Ethan’s guts, pulse after pulse, so much it immediately squirted out around the knot in creamy white bursts, running down Ethan’s smooth thighs in rivers. The enhanced loads were heavier, thicker, flooding him so completely he could feel his belly swell slightly.

At the exact same moment, Alex’s voice cracked into a raw, worshipful moan.

“FUCK YEA! YOU LIKE THAT DON’T YOU?! THAT’S MY GOOD BOY!!”

The words hit Ethan like lightning and without him being able to control himself, his limp cock started to spasm.

Clear spurts forced themselves out in helpless, humiliating arcs, painting the carpet while his trapped, soft dick twitched uselessly, creaming against his will as his ass clenched again and again around Alex’s still hard and buried cock.

Pleasure ripped through him so violently his vision whited out. He moaned, loud, slutty, broken, while terror clawed at his throat.

Ethan’s vision blurred as he could see Sarah’s face replaced by Alex’s new one. Her laugh now replaced by his moans. His muscled arms around her shoulder replaced by Alex’s biceps hugging him. The ring he bought completely erased from his memory while the box still remained discarded on the floor in the middle of Ethan’s old clothes.

The last of the old Ethan vanished in a single, blinding flash as all he could now remember was the feeling of belonging to his jock of a boyfriend.

Ethan blinked, dazed, still impaled on Alex’s knot.

He smiled up at Alex, heart full of nothing but pure, aching devotion.

The apartment changed with the first sun rays.

Walls brightened to warm cream. The sad couch became deep, buttery leather. A weight bench appeared in the corner; dumbbells neatly racked. Framed photos materialized on every surface, Ethan and Alex laughing at the beach, spotting each other at the gym, kissing at their engagement party. The lonely bachelor pad became the perfect love nest for two happy jocks.

Alex pulled out slowly, the knot popping free with a wet, obscene sound. Cum gushed from Ethan’s wrecked, fluttering hole in thick white rivers, splattering the new carpet and running down his smooth thighs.

Alex turned, eyes soft and adoring, already madly, stupidly in love with his well-bred boyfriend. He turned around as they both laid on the carpeted floor and picked something up from their discarded clothes.

A small velvet box.

He opened it as he smiled between two exhausted inhales of musky air.

Inside was the exact ring Ethan had chosen for Sarah, white gold, simple, perfect.

Alex looked into Ethan’s eyes; voice thick with emotion.

“Will you marry me?”

Ethan’s new heart soared, without hesitation, he opened his eyes as he smiled, still trying to get his breath back after the love they just shared.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice soft and adoring. “Of course, I will, baby. I love you.”

Cupid’s face, still faintly visible in the sunrise, curled into one final, satisfied smirk, as it disappeared into the sun rays for a year to come until February 14 of next year.

Another perfect Valentine’s couple created.

The sparkles that he disappeared into faded completely like dust in the warm first rays of the morning sun.

And Ethan smiled up at his fiancé, heart full of nothing but love for the men that he will share his life with. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey everybody! Long time no see ^^

I just wanted to share with you a themed story for this very special day of lovers.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope that even if you're alone, this story will bring you some joy and self-love :p

Day 3:

Upon wearing tanktop for approximately 3 hours and 46 minutes before arriving at the gym for his first workout, visible physical changes in Subject #1 have already been observed during the surveillance in the lockerroom:

-faint hair growth on previously entirely smooth chest

-darkening and thickening of forearm hair

-faint facial stubble, correlation with the effects of BW-TK-004 inconclusive, subject did not shave that morning

Post workout analysis revealed remarkable growth. Subject completed standard beginner routine (full body training, 45 minutes duration). Physical changes documented:

-Pectoral muscles have increased in size significantly, are now visible even through clothing

-Biceps circumference increased by approximately 3,4 centimeters

-Body hair thickened significantly across chest, spread across the abdomen and formed a distinct treasure trail

-Stubble transitioned into a visible beard shadow

-Overall muscular development equivalent to 4-6 weeks of intensive training in an average male

Day 4:

Subject doubled his training volume without any apparent signs of fatigue. Second workout duration: 97 minutes. Muscle hypertrophy continued at an accelerated rate, surpassing the projections. Overall increase in 9.3 kilograms of muscle mass and 13.1 kilograms body mass in total. The subject's chest is now becoming visibly barrel-shaped. Arms thick, veins becoming prominent across the biceps. Subject’s beard growth is now unmistakable, dark, coarse hair covering the skin around jaw and upper neck completely. Body hair spread to shoulders and upper back, increasing in density.

Observation of critical behavioral shift: Subject did not shower after performing his workout despite its high intensity and extended length. Proceeded to return to his apartment while still wearing the sweat-soaked tanktop. Home surveillance registered the following sequence:

At 17:12 subject opened his laptop, accessed a heterosexual pornography video saved on his harddrive “big booty blondie.flv”, watched the video for 1 minute 47 seconds, closed the video, laid down on his bed, pulled the front of BW-TK-004 up to his nose and masturbated for 4 minutes 18 seconds with his eyes closed before reaching orgasm. Substantial increase in ejaculate volume observed compared to previously established baseline during preliminary surveillance. The subject proceeded to rub the ejaculate into his chest before promptly falling asleep.

Day 5:

The subject’s muscle hypertrophy and hair growth follow the adjusted predictions. The subject is now approximately 19 kilograms heavier than the baseline. The beard became full and thick. Body hair is now covering the entire torso, arms, and legs, hairline shows signs of receding. 

After returning from the gym the subject initiated an internet search for new workout videos. While viewing a video featuring the professional powerlifter Harald Stein the subject became visibly aroused. The subject's gym shorts immediately tenting up, erection clearly visible through fabric. 

Following search history was documented:

“bearded bodybuilder” - 8 minutes of browsing through multiple short videos and pictures while occasionally palming his erection

“hairy muscle” - search performed on a pornographic website, subject continued to scroll through video list until finding one featuring a solo male performer, masturbation commences, orgasm reached after 7 minutes 13 seconds

Subject clicks on suggested video “Musclebear fucks his cub hard”, after less than two minutes of refractory period, subject’s member is fully erect again, he commences masturbating again and ejaculates in 3 minutes 41 seconds.

Subject clicks on subsequent suggested video “Alpha daddybear orgy”, after approximately three minutes of watching the video and breathing heavily, subject begins masturbating with increased intensity, ejaculation commences within 3 minutes 21 seconds.

The subject's stamina and recovery time showed dramatic enhancement compared to baseline. Ejaculate volume remained high across all three orgasms. The subject fell asleep with his laptop still open, gay pornography still playing, dried semen covering his torso and beard. The subject did not shower after waking up and moving to his bed or the morning thereafter.

Day 6:

Gym surveillance camera 7 located in the weight lifting area captured the subject performing bicep curls in front of the mirror. Visible erection formed as the subject watched his own reflection, creating an obvious bulge. The subject did not appear alarmed and completed the workout before proceeding to the men’s restroom. 

Bathroom surveillance camera 12 recorded the following:

The subject entered one of the stalls, pulled the front of BW-TK-004 and commenced masturbating while flexing his biceps. After approximately 47 seconds, subject left the bathroom stall and entered the public bathroom area admiring himself in the large mirror installed on the wall. Verbalization recorded: "Fuck yeah... so fucking big...", subject flexed continuously while masturbating and caressed the hair on his chest. Orgasm achieved within 1 minute 12 seconds. Ejaculate sprayed across the mirror and wall, substantial volume, thick consistency. The subject did not clean it up, pulled BW-TK-004 back over his chest and exited the bathroom.

Surveillance Team #2 assigned to Subject #2 (Trevor H.) for monitoring of subsequent bearification progress.

Days 7-10:

Subject #1 began to regularly interrupt his fitness routine with masturbation sessions in the gym bathroom, always ejaculating on either the mirror or the wall surfaces and never cleaning it up. Subject #2 began to arrive at the gym daily in hours coinciding with the schedule of Subject #1. Observed Subject #1 from a distance with visible signs of arousal and entered the bathroom immediately after Subject #1 left it, licking up the left behind semen and masturbating. Orgasm achieved in 42 seconds. On day 10 Subject #2 appeared to abandon his training routine. After confirming that Subject #1 was present in the gym, Subject #2 instead chose to spend the following 37 minutes slowly masturbating while hidden in one of the gym stalls in anticipation of Subject #1 entering the bathroom for one of his regular masturbation sessions. 

Subjects #1 and #2 show further augmentations to their libidos, stamina as well as ejaculate volumes. Visible physical changes to Subject #2 have been noted: Increased body hair on arms and chest. Facial hair growth significantly accelerated. Muscle tone improvement of 17% compared to baseline despite the reduction of exercise amount. Internet search history showed a progression from heterosexual to exclusively gay bear pornographic content over the 72 hour period.

Day 11:

A message exchange between Subject #1 Ryan M. and his former college classmate and associate Derek P. has been intercepted:

Derek: dude, all okay with you? Saw your new pics online, are you on gear or something? You look like a completely different person!

Ryan: no worries man, I’m not taking anything, I think it’s just those newbie gains I’ve been reading about…

Derek: lmao that’s not how noob gains work man! It’s been barely over a week and you’ve got a beard like a lumberjack and are so freaking huge and hairy! like some kind of a manbear!

Ryan: hell yeah cub, can’t wait to get even more MASSIVE!!!

Subject #1 closed the browser window and commenced masturbating while admiring his chest and biceps, repeatedly running his fingers through his beard. Orgasm achieved in 4 minutes 11 seconds. Subject #1’s dismissal of acquaintance’s concern indicates that psychological restructuring is nearly complete. The subject rationalizes physical changes without outside assistance, preventing cognitive dissonance that might disrupt the bearification process. Physical bearification continues to meet most optimistic benchmarks, subject’s muscle mass has increased by 34 kilograms compared to the baseline. The beard is full and thick. Body hair densely covers the subject’s entire torso, arms, and legs. Subject's penis is estimated to have grown by 4 centimeters, increasing in girth substantially. Subject wears BW-TK-004 continuously and never washes it.

Day 12:

Gym bathroom surveillance camera 12 recorded Subject #2 entering his usual bathroom stall in anticipation of Subject #1’s masturbation session. After entering the bathroom Subject #1 did not proceed to his preferred location facing the mirror and instead remained standing near the door, appearing to be listening closely. Subject #1 approached the stall occupied by subject #2

Vocalization recorded: "I can smell you in there cub, you've been listening to me, haven't you? Open up."

Subject #2 opened the door and nodded after establishing eye contact. Visible erection through gym shorts. Subject Ryan M. approached, grabbed Subject #2 by the throat and began to kiss him forcefully. After initial shock Subject #2 reciprocated while removing their clothing. Subject #1 bent Subject #2 over the sink, penetration occurring without lubrication. Subject #2 vocalized discomfort but did not resist, 17 seconds later facial expression shifted to extreme sexual arousal and pure bliss. Recorded intercourse duration: 19 minutes. Both subjects demonstrated remarkable stamina, maintaining rapid thrusting pace throughout multiple position changes. 

Verbalization included: "Take this fucking cock, yeah!", "You're mine now, cub" "Feel this bear cum inside you, cub?".

Ejaculation occurred internally. Subject #1 withdrew his penis, semen leaking profusely from Subject #2's anus. Both subjects dressed and departed separately, Subject #1 expressing that he expects to see Subject #2 in the same place the following day.

Following the sexual encounter with Ryan M., subject #2 Trevor H. experienced a dramatic acceleration of his bearification process. Throughout the intercourse the originally sparse body hair coverage increased by over 200%, substantial beard growth, muscle mass increasing by approximately 7 kilograms. Within the following 24 hours, Subject #2’s weight increased by following 11 kilograms, acquiring a large, full beard, substantial hair loss on the scalp with remarkable growth everywhere else below the neckline.

Analysis suggests that Subject #1’s semen is well on course to acquiring bearifying properties equivalent with males transformed through conventional penetrative means.

Day 14:

Intercepted text message exchange between Subject #1 and his father (Donald M., 52):

Donald M: Hi son, your friend Derek called me today and told me you look completely. He told me all about those different gym supplements and how dangerous they can be. I hope you are being responsible, he sounded really worried...

After reading the message Subject #1’s face appeared to exhibit signs of mental distress and concern as he proceeded to examine his naked body. 37 seconds later Subject’s penis began to grow erect despite Subject’s vocalization “please, no, don’t get hard again”, 11 seconds later Subject’s penis reached fully erect state. Subject exited to the bathroom and began washing his face with cold water exhibiting signs of heightened distress. 1 minute 52 seconds later Subject #1 began masturbating while flexing his muscles and admiring himself in the mirror. Ejaculation occurred 6 minutes 11 seconds later, observable increase in the volume and thickness of the ejaculate. The subject gathered all of it and rubbed it into his chest before returning to his cellphone.

Ryan M: no worries dad, feeling better than ever!

Research note: Potential intervention by the subject’s father represents an opportunity for further expansion of the study. Closer monitoring of the situation is strongly recommended. If the subject's father attempts an in person contact, integration as an additional study subject should be strongly considered. Dr. Hendricks expressed particular interest in overseeing the development of bearified father-son dynamics. Noting that any potential intervention from company side may prove to be unnecessary given Subject #1’s rapidly emerging dominant and sexually aggressive behavioral patterns.

-Body mass: 74.3% increase from baseline (74kg -> 129kg)

-Body hair: complete dense coverage on chest, back, shoulders, arms, legs, buttocks. Density comparable to an average freshly bearified male.

-Facial hair: Full thick beard extending to upper chest. Mustache fully connected.

-Scalp hair: 100% recession.

-Sexual characteristics: Penis length increased to 26 cm while erect. Testicle size increased approximately 40%. Semen production is highly elevated.

-Behavioral changes: Hypersexual, dominant personality, averages 6-8 orgasms daily. Exclusive attraction to male subjects, preference for bearish/bearded type. Hypothesized to instinctively understand that he is capable of making other males fit in with his desired archetype better.

Additional notes: Subject’s musk is detectable within an 8 meter radius. Other gym patrons show visible psychosexual alterations after prolonged exposure and increased arousal.

Day 15:

Mass bearification event involving Subject #1, Subject #2, two personal trainers employed by the gym, gym owner, 9 gym patrons.

Detailed summary of the event:

Event commenced at 9:42 AM during the regular intercourse session between Subject #1 and Subject #2, Nathan C. (further referred to as Subject #3, 29, heterosexual male) entered the bathroom. Body musk in the enclosed space reached critical saturation levels due to prolonged sexual activity, Subject #3 demonstrated an immediate physiological response and heightened state of arousal. Subject #3 continued to observe the sexual activity while massaging his growing erection for 52 seconds before being noticed. Despite vocalizing his surprise and concern Subject #3 remained stationary when the two other subjects approached him. Minimal resistance observed. Subject #3 was initially exposed to precum of the two subjects then came in direct semen contact through oral ingestion and internal anal ejaculation of Subject #1 Ryan M. Physical bearification is visible throughout the sexual contact, accelerated muscle hypertrophy and rapid proliferation of beard and body hair across chest, arms and buttocks.

Eleven minutes after the arrival of Subject #3 inside the bathroom, personal trainer Marcus W. (further referred to as Subject #4, 37, bisexual, engaged with a woman) entered seeking the client. Found Subject #3 mid-bearification initially not recognizing him due to the presence of the full beard, body mass increasing by approximately 21 kilograms, evident personality shift. Subject #3 initiated forcibly kissing Subject #4 while retaining traces of Subject #1's semen still in mouth, introducing bearification compounds directly. Subject #4’s resistance collapsed within 11 seconds after contact with Subject #1’s semen, proceeded to join the sexual activity willingly. Noted rapid physical changes - beard growth, muscle mass increase, extremely dense body hair spread, hypersexual frenzy.

Four additional gym patrons entered the bathroom over the subsequent 37 minutes. Each succumbing rapidly upon exposure to concentrated musk. Conversion pattern consistent throughout all four subjects: initial arousal, brief resistance, sexual penetration (oral or anal) and exposure to semen, immediate physical bearification. All newly converted subjects engaged in group sexual activity. Musk concentration reached levels detectable outside of the bathroom.

At 11:51 AM Gym owner Robert C. (further referred to as Subject #9, 48, heterosexual, married, retired professional bodybuilder, baseline body mass 108kg) entered the bathroom in a highly agitated and verbally aggressive state after complaints about the noise from other patrons. Musk exposure produced an immediate behavioral shift - any aggression ceased, visible arousal despite apparent cognitive resistance. Submissive posture adopted, immediately complying with Subject #1’s verbal command to strip naked and get on all fours.

Across following 1 hour 14 minutes all eight bearified subjects participated in repeated oral and anal penetration of Subject #9 causing him to undergo an extreme and rapid conversion:

Physical changes: subject’s body mass increased from 108kg to 149kg noting substantial muscle hypertrophy accompanied by significant body fat increase, pushing him towards the “daddy bear” physiology. Body hair proliferation extreme - complete coverage of every space under the neck with the thickest pelt observed yet within the BW-TK-004 study. Facial hair reaching the subject's stomach, hair turned fully grey. Apparent biological aging of 12 to 15 years, skin texture coarsened, overall appearance shifted from late 40s to mid 60s.

Behavioral changes include a complete personality inversion, the previously dominant authority figure within the fitness space is now a hypersexual, highly submissive bottom. Any expressions of verbal resistance registered during the bearification process have shifted to pleading for continued sexual contact after the conversion. His exclusive focus now appears to be serving other bearified males sexually.

Additional note: following the conclusion of BW-TK-004 field test, Subject #9 and Subject #2 moved into Subject #1’s apartment, now regularly performing domestic and sexual services for Subject #1 and Subject #24 (Donald M., Subject #1's father). 

Study conclusions:

BAER WEAR tanktop BW-TK-004 performance exceeded all projected expectations. Subject #1 (Ryan M.) transformation represents an outstanding success across all measurable criteria - full physical bearification, complete psychological conversion and behavioral modification and finally acquisition of full secondary transmission capability. Initial concerns regarding degradation of psychoactive compounds have proven to be unfounded. Subject’s bodily secretions produced after the exposure more than made up for initial repeated washing attempts. Subject #1 demonstrated no sustained resistance to the product's influence.

Bodily fluids of subjects #1, #2, #7, #9 and #24 achieved bearification potency equivalent to conventionally transformed subjects with other subjects projected to reach that mark after further exposure. Secondary and tertiary bearification chains have been established organically without any corporate intervention. Bearification success rate: 100%. No reversal observed. No subjects demonstrated sustained psychological resistance after exposure