Pep Talk

 

Okay... You're okay... So you're suddenly big and hairy and old... But that's fine! You'll find a way to...to not be big a-and hairy and...old... Just be cool, you're just a normal guy who's washing his hands, and you're gonna... AH!

I leap back from the sink and clutch my chest, before whipping my hand away as it brushes against my chest hair... Ugh, it still sounds weird to say it. My chest hair. I have chest hair. And stomach hair. And back hair, ew... I grip the edge of the sink to stop my legs from collapsing again, and exhale a deep sigh. I need to ground myself, and recall what happened...

All-Inclusive

 

 

 

Aw man, this stinks... When that lady in the lobby said she could make me a grown up for the rest of the vacation, I was so excited! I imagined I'd be doing loads of cool stuff with all the other grown-ups, like bungee jumping and surfboarding and scuba diving! All the stuff I wanted to do on vacation, but I was always told I was "too young" or "too short" or whatever lousy excuse they told me. But now I know the truth. It's not that I wasn't allowed to do that stuff, it's that none of the grown-ups wanted to! All they want to do is sunbathe and drink at the poolside bar. It's so boring! 

 

Even if I suggest doing something fun, everyone stares at me like I'm an idiot for wanting to leave the hotel. I know it's all-inclusive, but there's more to vacation than this! I'd go and do it myself, but then I'd have to pay for the taxi to get there, and then pay to do the thing, and then pay for the souvenirs... It was easier when my parents paid for everything. And apparently, adult me didn't budget for anything outside of Happy Hour, so I'm basically stuck in this place... Vacations are expensive!

 

Even worse, now that I'm a grown up, I can't do the other fun things I could've done as a kid. Like the water splash park, or the mini-golf course. I even miss the stupid kids club the adults put you in when they decide they want a kids-free evening. At least they had videos games! I tried building sandcastles on the beach with the kids I used to be friends with, and the adults laughed and said it was cute that I was humoring them. They just don't understand...

 

I suppose I should focus on the positives of being a grown-up. It is pretty awesome that I'm bigger than all the kids and my stupid cousins. I even got muscles, so I can lift real heavy things like they were nothing. And having a beard is pretty neat too, except when it gets all itchy 'cause it's hot out. I guess it's cool that I can drink alcohol without getting into trouble, even though it tastes nasty without being mixed with lots of soda and juices. Actually, it's real nice to be treated like a person when I'm hanging with the other adults. Even strangers are a lot friendlier and happy to chat with me, which is a weird change of pace!

 

But I'd give it all up so I could be a kid again before the vacation is up. Wait a minute... That lady did say I'd stop being an adult when vacation's over, right? I didn't just assume she said that in the excitement of it all? I haven't seen her in the hotel since then... I can't be stuck like this! I don't wanna get a job...

Test Subject

 What luck! Just as I was wondering how to discreetly test my latest, ingenius invention, the perfect test subject happened to board the bus. He was your typical, defiant teenager who had decided that long, greasy hair, spiked accessories, and a liberal usage of eyeliner really stuck it to the man. He trudged to the back of the bus, dumping his bag covered with band buttons in the seat next to him. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, oblivious to me and my wonderful invention.

I swung open the device in my lap and aimed the transmitter at the goth, smiling as a list of attributes ran down the screen. Phase one worked perfectly. Now to put it into action... I decided to start with something subtle. Those unsightly ear gauges would do perfectly. I tapped in my desires and held my breath, trying not to stare as I waited... Then it happened! I stifled a squeal of glee as the large, plastic hoops melted and dripped out of his enlarged ear lobes. The liquid glided effortlessly around his ears and joined above his forehead, forming a standard pair of sunglasses. Meanwhile, his droopy ear lobes rolled back up, tightening and molding until there was no sign he'd ever pierced his ears, let alone stretched them out.

I couldn't believe it, my invention worked! I mean of course it worked, I am a genius after all. But to show such promise in its initial test run? I couldn't hope for any better! That goth brat was entirely unaware as well, even when he reached up to touch the sunglasses, only to adjust their position. He didn't notice a thing!

Big Summer Blowout

So, I have been far busier than I expected to be these last few months. Which is good for many reasons, but not for my writing! Since I've piled up a sizable backlog of stories that are partially written... But I do have a few shorter stories written, which I would usually combine for a vignettes post and call it a day. 

However, I've decided to do things a little different this time, and I'm going to spread them out over the rest of the summer. I'm aiming for one or two stories a week, so look out for that starting tomorrow!

Ursa Complex

"See that guy? The one smoking on the steps? That's my new landlord."

Hunter gestured towards the tinted windows of the coffee shop before narrowing his eyes with distrust. His friend, Jamie, followed his gaze to the man who sat outside with a cigar. He cocked his head and asked, "That's the guy you're so frightened of? He looks harmless to me..."

"Pft, harmless..." Hunter replied with a shake of his head, messing up his hair. "I have good reason to fear him." He took a long sip of his iced coffee and slammed it back down on the table. "I think he's kicking his tenants out so he can fill the place up with his friends."

Jamie swirled his straw around in his plastic cup, clearly not convinced. "That doesn't sound legal... Can you prove it?"

"Well every day, I'm seeing more and more guys like him around the complex. "

"Guys like..."

"You know," Hunter said as he waved his arms abstractly, trying to best convey his thoughts. "Big, hairy men! All of 'em are friendly with each other, like they know what's up. And they all smoke like chimneys. The whole complex used to be smoke-free before he showed up. Now it stinks of ash!"

"OK, calm down," Jamie said, reaching over to swat at Hunter's hands before he crushed his drink. "I'm sure it's a coincidence. Maybe he advertises the vacant rooms on like-minded websites."

Hunter shook off his friend's hand and jabbed an accusing finger towards his apartment complex. "Well I'm not the only one who's noticed. Old Larry across the hall won't shut up about the two guys who moved into the apartment above him. Apparently they're fucking 24/7, he's not had a moment's peace."

"Have you tried talking to your landlord?"

"Not since the day he introduced himself... " Hunter gripped onto his cup in thought. It was only two months ago, the guy knocked at his door. He even gave Hunter a cigar as a gift, which he promptly shoved to the back of his junk drawer. Before he left, the landlord told him to expect some changes as he took over ownership of the building. At the time, Hunter expected a new paint job or a better laundry room. He couldn't have predicted what eventually came to pass.

"Maybe you should re-introduce yourself, then! Grab a few beers to loosen the atmosphere and air out your concerns. I bet you'll find it's all a big misunderstanding."

Hunter looked at Jamie incredulously and cried, "I don't want to be put on his hit-list! I'm perfectly happy where I am. Maybe if I keep out of his way, he'll forget that I exist and I won't have to find somewhere else to live... You know, he even changed the name of the building."

"Oh really?"

"It's called Ursa Complex now." Hunted scoffed and gazed out of the coffee shop window. "Ursa Complex... What does that even mean."

"It sounds fitting to me," Jamie said with a chuckle, refusing to explain the joke. 

"Well whatever it means, it's just another hole in my shattering social life. What if I want to bring a girl back home? Nothing says mood killer like passing a bunch of fat, middle aged men smoking stogies."

"You bringing a woman back? That's the most unbelievable thing you've said today."

Hunter snorted. "Shut up..."

Jamie grinned and played with his cup a little before saying. "I wish I had your problem. You know that my landlord still hasn't fixed the water issues? I ended up joining a gym so I have somewhere to shower..." He paused for a moment, reflecting on his own misfortune, before an idea struck him. "You know, we could always swap apartments. I'll live with the smelly men and you can live with no hot water."

"As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass. The only good thing that bastard did was lower my rent. Probably to help out his mates..."

"It was worth a shot..." Jamie mumbled before he stood up from the table and took his jacket off of his chair. "While I'd love to hear more of your conspiracy theory, I've got to dash. See you when you're less crazy."

Hunter said goodbye to Jamie and finished his iced coffee in silence, waiting for his landlord to finish his cigar and leave. Hunter swore that the man kept looking in his direction but the coffee shop's windows were tinted so he wouldn't have been able to see him. Right? The minute he saw the man get up and waddle down the road, Hunter grabbed his bag and high-tailed it back into the complex.

The lobby always smelled stale and musty nowadays. To think he missed the days it used to smell of chlorine from the fountain... He reached out for the elevator button when the doors opened. Two massive men stepped out, each wearing a low cut tank top that clung to their bulging bodies and allowed as much of their abundant body hair to breathe. One was bald with a gray-stained beard, the other had a military cut and a bushy moustache. They each had a cigar clenched between their lips. He recognised them as the couple who moved in down the hall from his apartment, taking over the cute students who used to live there. He hadn't seen either of the girls since, he didn't even get the chance to get their numbers. They probably didn't feel comfortable with the sudden influx of men and moved back to the college dorms... Hunter stepped out of the brutish men's path. They didn't even glance at him as they walked past. As they approached the door to the street, he saw one of them squeeze the other's ass, who then growled and returned the favour. Hunter winced, there were some things people should keep to themselves...

The elevator stunk of strong tobacco. Stronger than the usual background smell that had permeated the building. Sometimes Hunter wondered if he were evicted, would he have withdrawal symptoms. He reminded himself to research the effects of second-hand smoke. Maybe he could threaten to sue the landlord if he didn't enact a strict smoking policy.

As he pondered over the theoretical lawsuit, he exited the elevator and walked down the corridor to his apartment. Before he could reach his door, he noticed something peculiar. Larry's apartment door was propped wide open... Curious, Hunter knocked and called out his name. "Larry?"

"In here," he heard somebody growl. The voice was low and husky, nothing like Larry's frail, hoarse voice. Was he OK? Maybe he was being burgled... Cautiously, Hunter stepped through the door frame and glanced around. It looked as pristine as usual, no signs of a struggle or a robbery. Then he peeked around the corner and his jaw dropped. There was a huge, hairy man sat at the back of the room puffing on a cigar. Hunter couldn't believe it, they kicked out poor old Larry! Evicting some young college kids was one thing, but Larry had been there for decades! That landlord had gone too far...

He must have gasped too loud as the man looked up at Hunter and smirked. "You just couldn't wait to see me, huh?"

"Wh-who are you? Where's Larry?" he demanded.

"I'm right in front of you, kid," the man said with a grin. "New and improved."

"No... No no no..." Hunter stared flabbergasted. This man couldn't have been Larry, he was far too young to be the old guy. Far too big and burly to be the short, frail man. He shook his head and spluttered, "I'm talking about the guy who lives here, that Larry. He's an old man, retired a decade ago, grump with a heart of gold? Where is he!?"

"That's me. Old man Larry... Maybe not as old, but still old enough to teach you a thing or two."

The large man stood up from his seat and stepped towards Hunter, who himself stepped back towards the door of the apartment. There was a sudden slam, and Hunter turned to see the door had shut! He tugged on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. The strange man was almost within arm's reach. Hunter immediately darted to the right and into the open plan kitchenette, using the dining table as a barrier to keep some distance between them.

"C'mon pal, I only want to have a chat," Larry said in his gritty voice. He sounded calm but there was an urgency in his tone.

Hunter's stance immediately softened. Something about Larry's warm voice almost made him trustworthy. The man gestured to the table and Hunter felt himself pull back a chair and sit down. His body felt heavy, subdued, moving on its own whim. His mind felt cloudy all of a sudden, as if the urgent desire to flee had vanished. Larry smiled and sat down himself, resting his arms on the table as he clutched his cigar in a raised paw.

"That's it, take a load off and we can chat. Maybe even share a drink." He gestured to a whiskey bottle and two glasses in the middle of the table. Hunter smiled politely but didn't reach for the bottle. Eventually, Larry sighed and took it upon himself to pour each of them a glass. He raised his glass in cheers. "I know these are strange circumstances," he huffed in irritation. "But a little whiskey ain't gonna hurt ya. C'mon, it'll put hair on your chest!"

Hunter cringed at Larry's choice of wording. Was that what happened to him? Did someone offer him the same gesture? Hunter couldn't help but notice the bountiful hair covering the older man’s own body, a covering that almost certainly wasn't there the last time they met. He watched as Larry downed the glass in one gulp, wiping the dribble from his chin with a cocky smirk before resuming his smoke.

As Larry puffed on his cigar, Hunter looked across to his bearded face and tried to find something, anything, that was even a semblance to the grumpy old man who used to live in the apartment. But his cold blue eyes were docile. His button nose was long and straight. His constant frown was now a harmless smirk. Under any other circumstance, Hunter would have welcomed the change of demeanor. But the literal change of appearance was unnerving. It was like he'd been replaced.

"So, you're Larry. You're really Larry, the retired dentist who's lived in this building for decades. You're not, like, a relative or a scam artist or something, you're Larry Proctor."

"Well I ain't the queen of England, am I?"

"What even happened to you?"

"I had a visit from the Big Man downstairs after making a complaint about my neighbors upstairs. He took it upon himself to find a solution that suited everyone. Heck of a guy, he is!"

Hunter stared at the man, skeptical yet shocked. He knew his landlord was up to something fishy but he never would have suspected this. How could he ever guess his landlord was turning his tenants into big, hairy smokers? He still couldn't believe it, it sounded impossible. Then again, there wasn't anything to suggest it was true either. For all he knew, it was an elaborate prank or even a distraction for something even bigger.

"But if he made you like the others then..." Hunter gulped. Maybe swapping rooms with Jamie was still on the table. But he couldn't let his friend get caught up in the frenzy, could he?

Sensing Hunter's revelation, Larry exhaled a plume of smoke and said "You can't hide from the Big Man. He's kept a watchful eye on you, waiting for you to take his initial offer. And he's getting impatient. So he wants me to give you an ultimatum." He dug into his pockets and pulled out another cigar, placing it on the table between them. "Smoke this cigar and you'll become one of the guys, simple as that."

"Excuse me!?" Hunter asked before bursting into nervous laughter. He stared at the cigar before him, his nose scrunched in disgust. He hated smoking, it didn't appeal to him in the slightest. It was obvious that the cigar played a part in what was happening and he had no intention of being included. "Nuh-uh. I'm not getting mixed up in this weird power fantasy. I'd rather be kicked out to the streets!" He tried to stand up but it felt like a two-tonne weight was resting on his groin, a powerful force that prevented him from moving. He grunted as he tried to move, only to stop as he noticed the man across from him get up.

Larry tutted and shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not an option, pal. You smoke it of your own free will or I'll be doing it for you. Either way, you're not leaving this room until the deed is done."

 

"You can't force me to stay, no matter how strong you are!" But as Hunter tried to get up from the table, he found himself floundering as his ass stuck firmly to his seat, which itself was immovable. "Wha-"

 

"The more you fight it, the worse it's gonna be... You'll never fit in if you don't go with the flow." Larry stood up from his own seat, his stern face taking a sinister turn as he stepped closer to Hunter. "Go ahead and take a puff, it's waiting on you..." He stared down at the young man, waiting for him to make a move. But after a minute's silence, Larry lost his cool. With one swift move, he snatched the cigar off the table and set the tip alight. Before Hunter could process what was happening, Larry gripped the back of his neck and tried to guide the cigar into his mouth. Hunter jerked about, trying to free himself of the man’s grip, but Larry was far stronger than he used to be. He squeezed Hunter’s neck tightly, causing him to groan in pain. Seizing his opportunity, Larry shoved the cigar between the smaller man’s lips and clamped his mouth shut so he couldn't spit it out. "That's it, pal. Get that in your system," Larry growled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. 

Hunter held his breath and attempted to spit the cigar out, but his teeth wouldn't unclench. He tried to reach up and yank it out, but his arms wouldn't budge. He hoped it would fizzle out and break whatever charm it had over him so he could make a break for it. Yet it only seemed to burn brighter. He held his breath for as long as he could but he couldn't take much longer. He gasped for air, his lungs filling with smoke and making him cough. He took another breath, not as harsh as the second. By the third breath, he was already used to the sensation. 

He hadn't noticed that Larry had left his side until he glanced up to see him back in his chair, arms crossed and keeping a watchful eye. He nodded his head slightly, and Hunter felt a small part of the charm break. He reached his right arm up to remove the cigar from his lips, breathing out a haze of smoke that surrounded him. A small tingle ran down his back, twisting his lips upwards. That almost felt good, he thought. But he couldn't let the charm overtake his body. He swung his arm down, aiming for the ashtray in the centre of the table, until he felt it hit an invisible barrier. Try as he might, his arm wouldn't go further. It stayed put in mid-air until he tried moving it back up to his mouth. 

"You're becoming a natural already," Larry purred as he puffed on his own cigar, adding to the smoke-filled atmosphere. "Feel that smoke entering your system, embrace its power. It's already working its charm on you..."

Hunter felt lightheaded...and good... He took another puff and felt a tightness in his chest. As he breathed in a mouthful of smoke, he watched in detached awe as his chest pushed outwards. When he slowly exhaled, his chest stayed stoic, unmoving. He repeated the process. Breathe in, his chest puffed out, breath out, his chest stayed put. After a few puffs, he'd grown a shapely chest that he had only dreamed of attaining. With his free hand, Hunter reached underneath his tight shirt and grasped a rounded pec with awe, feeling solid muscle buried under a thin layer of fat. As he brushed a finger against a perky nipple, he felt a jolt of pleasure run down his spine that made his cock twitch. A tiny moan escaped his lips, a reddening blush crossed his cheeks.

The brain fog momentarily faded and Hunter remembered what was at stake. He tried once again to put down the cigar and failed. His arm shook as he resisted putting the cigar back in his mouth. But that numbing sensation of submission washed over him, his arm mechanically swinging towards his mouth once more. Every smoke-fueled breath added more bulk to his body, thickening his limbs and rounding out his torso. Muscle pumped down his arms and a burgeoning bulk rested around his midsection.

The closer the cigar came to its stubby end, the more it seemed to affect him. Hunter winced as his shirt tightened around his thick body. It restricted his movement, making it hard to breath. But he couldn't do anything to relieve the stress. He stared at Larry, his eyes creasing in desperation, sending a silent plea for help. Finally, the man relented and Hunter felt control flow back into himself. He scrambled at his neck and flexed his torso, cringing at the sound of torn fabric as his shirt was reduced to a pile of scraps. Now in control, Hunter finally slammed his cigar stub into the ashtray, twisting it out with a sigh of relief. But the damage was already done.

He gazed down at his thicker body, a far cry from the slim man he once was. Round pecs rested on a rounder stomach. His thighs had shredded his jeans to disarray, each looked to be double the size they used to be. But to his surprise, Hunter felt no panic or loss. He was bigger, yes, but with some intense training, he could lose the bulk. If anything, after his first smoking session, all he felt was thirst. Without even thinking, Hunter reached out for the glass in front of him and downed it in one gulp. He gasped as he felt the searing burn of whiskey coat the back of his throat, alongside the painful realisation of what he'd done. He slapped his forehead and growled "Stupid! Why the fuck did I do that!"

"You might think the smoke is clouding your judgement, giving you brain fog," Larry chuckled before downing his own glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then nodded his head in Hunter's direction. "Of course, it's only guiding you. It's not the only part of the process What did I tell ya, pal." He tapped his own hairy chest with a grin.

Another prickle of change overtook Hunter’s body as thousands of hairs burst forth from his skin, covering his exposed skin with a healthy amount of dark hairs. "No..." He reached a quivering hand to his chest and brushed it through the newly grown carpet with twisted curiosity. He had never been a lover of body hair, and was always grateful that his heritage only blessed him with the bare essentials. But now he had a chest rug straight from the seventies. There was no way he could prune the dense curls that wrapped around his torso without specialist help. But as he stroked his chest, it felt relaxing, even pleasurable. Suddenly, he growled and snatched his hand away from the tempting fur. He didn't like it, it was only the charm affecting his mind, Hunter assured himself. He glared up at Larry and said "You won't..." He paused, momentarily coughing to clear his throat. He winced as he felt more hair on his face, his manicured stubble having tripled in density and grown into a short beard. "You won't get away with this," he barked, then coughed again. "What the fuck is up with my voice? Why is it like that?" There was a persistent grit to his voice. Low and gravelly, like he was gargling gravel.

"Y'like it? You sound like a real man now. It suits you. Really gets me going..." Larry thrust his hips under the table, making Hunter cringe. But when Larry stood up from the table once again, he started to worry. He sauntered up to the newly hirsute man with a twisted grin. Before Hunter could react, Larry bent down and locked lips with him. His bristly jaw scratched against his own, the scratchy sound of beard upon beard filled their ears and pumped an unknown passion into him. Hunter wrapped his arms around Larry's shoulders and pushed himself into the burly man. He didn’t want to be with him, didn’t want to be kissing him. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Larry hoisted Hunter up from the chair and dragged him out of the kitchenette. They continued to make-out, stumbling back into the hallway with their mouths interlocked. Hunter tried to guide them towards the front door but Larry took lead and forced them into the living room. They stumbled and fell back onto the sofa, where Larry finally broke free of Hunter’s lips. He whined a little, already missing the feeling of the man's tongue in his mouth, then shook his head clear. He didn’t want any of this! He had to escape Larry's grip on him. 

Hunter tried to get up, but Larry shoved him down to the floor. When he got back to his knees, Hunter looked up and gasped. He found myself face to face with the older man’s cock, rock hard and desperate for attention. He almost jumped right onto it before he regained his composure. He wasn’t gay! He hadn't had a single stray thought for a man in his life. At least, not before he entered this apartment, not before he smoked that cigar… Hunter looked back at that thick cock, calling out for him. He reached out to touch the glorious rod when Larry grabbed him by the wrist.

"Ah ah ah, not yet pal. I love the enthusiasm but you're a little too immature for my tastes. I like a man to be closer to my age. However, it would be rude to make you wait..."

Hunter stared up at the brute, confused. He didn't know what to expect but he knew in the pit of his stomach that it wouldn't be good. Larry took a long drag of his cigar and blew the smoke down into the young man’s face. Hunter cringed as it billowed across his face and made the air hazy.

"Come now, I know deep down inside of you, there's a daddy just raring to be released..."

Larry blew more smoke in Hunter’s face, the gray cloud clinging to his body, refusing to dissipate. Every breath Hunter took made his mind feel heavier. He tried to resist, knowing it was another attempt to force him into changing, but the cigar smoke was thickening to a dull fog that wrapped around him and blurred his vision. It was too much... An odd feeling swept over him, like he’d been overworked and wanted to rest. His breathing slowed, his eyes felt heavy. In amongst the fog, Hunter heard Larry moan. "That's it pal, you're getting it..." His skin looked duller and rougher. Larry ruffled the man’s hair, causing strands to scatter around him. He could even see some gray hairs within the mix. It was really happening, he could feel himself getting older, and he couldn't stop it. "That's the ticket... Soon you'll be the daddy of your dreams..."

Hunter gazed at the fat dick in front of him, unable to find a way out. Maybe if he gave Larry what he wanted, this whole nightmare would come to an end, Hunter reasoned to himself. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned forwards, grasping the dick between his fingers. He felt the man shudder as he pressed his lips against the mushroom tip, wondering how he would get the whole thing in his mouth without gagging. He opened wide and laid Larry's hard dick on his tongue, tasting the musky saltiness. He hated that it turned him on. He could feel his own dick hardening within the remnants of his jeans. He almost yanked it out but maintained some semblance of self control. Finally, he took the plunge and slowly worked his way down Larry's dick, bobbing his head back and forth slowly as he let more and more of the cock slide down his throat. 

As Hunter continued his tongue massage, Larry continued to puff on his cigar and blow the smoke over him. Every dusting of smoke and ash made Hunter feel different. A little more tired, a little more willing to continue. He was getting a little more thicker, a little more hairier. He was so focused on pleasuring the man before him that he barely paid attention anymore. After a few minutes, he could feel Larry twitch and hear him whine in pleasure. He reached over and stroked Hunter's head, comforting him as he neared his final moments.

With one loud howl, Larry shuddered and shoved Hunter away, shooting his hot load over Hunter's face, dripping down his beard and onto his belly. Finally, the brute fell back against the sofa, his head lulling back in bliss.  Hunter fell back himself, gasping for breath and wiping the gunk off his face. 

As Larry laid back on the sofa, Hunter knew he had an opportunity. He stumbled to his feet and fled toward the front door. He scrambled with the lock and flung the door open, taking a glance back to see Larry hadn't budged. Nevertheless, he hurried across the hall, crashed through into his own apartment, and slammed the door behind him. He panted and fell back against it with a sense of anger and loss. He looked down at his hands, no longer slim palms with long, supple fingers. They were thick, square mitts with stubby digits and black hairs prickling across every knuckle. His palms were rough and calloused, in much need of moisturising. But he had a feeling no amount of lotion would heal his cracked skin.

After taking a moment to recompose, Hunter stumbled towards the bathroom. He was afraid of facing his reflection but he had to know what Larry had done to him. He gripped the sink basin, bracing for the inevitable as he gritted his teeth and forced his head up. He stifled a sob, and his knees buckled. He didn’t even recognise himself!

He had a rounded face with a short and prickly beard, which matched the hairy and pudgy body it was attached to. Yet that stranger was actually himself. He was a brute. A bulky, hairy, middle aged brute, unrecognisable to who he once was… He rubbed a hand over his bearded face in disbelief, his fingers lingering on the patches of gray hair poking through the dense darkness. Glancing upwards, it was hard to ignore how his hairline had slipped back a couple inches. Once blessed with thick hair like generations of men before him, he now had a receding hairline that started up on his head, along with a general thinness across his scalp. He glared at the man he had become, at least twenty years older than he originally was. He couldn't even say he looked like his dad because he didn't. Clean shaven, full head of hair, wiry man. Everything he wasn't. Maybe he could have resembled his dad in another life, if fate hadn't altered his course. Before he was forced into this bearish body. Hunter stifled a sob that shook through his body. It couldn't end like this... 

Hunter fell against the back of his door and sunk to the floor, slumping his head and arms over his knees. He took several deep, controlled breaths until he managed to flush his encroaching panic attack away. He let his legs fall to the ground and sat staring at his unrecognizable body. With every passing minute, he felt a little better. He hadn't fully accepted what had happened to him, how could he? But his mind felt clearer. Having escaped that lunatic's apartment, the nightmare was over. He didn't have to worry about changing any further. Not in the short-term anyway. He was as hairy and bulky as he was going to get. And now that he had passed the worst of it, he could begin to make a plan. He might have come out of it a changed man in more ways than one, but now he could focus on finding a way to fix things. Maybe he could even sue the landlord. Would that even be possible, he wondered. Magical, body-altering substances were a stretch of the imagination. He didn't know if a jury would believe what happened to him... 

Leaving the bathroom, Hunter figured he should grab his laptop, already dreading what his search history was going to look like. "Thank God for incognito mode" he muttered aloud as he perched on his sofa, laptop on table. Before he could type, however, he felt a gnawing at his chest. A desire for something he never thought he'd have. He tried to ignore it, struggling to type a coherent sentence as it nagged at his mind until he gave into its calls.

With an exasperated grunt, Hunter stomped over to his junk drawer and threw it open, rummaging through rechargeable batteries and expired gift cards about until he found it; the large Cuban cigar his landlord had gifted him all those weeks ago. To think his life had changed so much since that fateful meeting, so much within the past hour... But was it worth smoking it? It did come from his landlord, after all. It probably had those same powers that Larry's cigars had. Then again, he could be immune now that he'd already gone though the changes. It wasn't like he could just go out and buy his own. Not when his clothes no longer fit him. And he couldn't order them online, not when he needed to smoke right this very moment.

 

"Fuck it, I'm already in too deep..." he muttered with a heavy sigh. He clipped the tip off the cigar with a knife and stuck it underneath the gas cooker. He raised the cigar to his mouth and clamped it between his teeth. That first inhalation of smoke was pure bliss. Maybe he could get used to being a cigar smoker... He'd have to get all the equipment first. He couldn't be using the stove all his life. And why stop with cigars? He bet he'd look pretty good with a pipe, it'd suit his mature looks.

Hunter sat back on his sofa, arms spread across the cushions, puffing on his cigar in silence. He reflected on the days ahead. He was a changed man, after all. Wiser, more mature. He couldn't have walls of cartoonish memorabilia or video games. He needed some refined taste, something manlier. Then he would have to quit his job in data management, of course. Nobody was going to recognise him if he stepped into the office, and it didn't exactly suit a man of his stature. Maybe he could put his newfound brawn to use, get a blue collar job in construction. Then there was his blooming homoeroticism. It was obvious that his orientation had shifted. He hadn't been on a date with a woman since the new landlord appeared, and as much as he hated to admit it, his romp with Larry was the most action he'd had in months. It had awakened something in him. Maybe he should embrace it and get out into the gay dating scene. Gay men liked rough, older men, right? There had to be some sort of thing for that. At least he knew Jamie would go gaga for his new appearance, the little twink...  Jamie... Hunter closed up at the thought. How the fuck was he going to explain any of this to his best friend, let alone meet up with him ever again? They'd look like father and son. 

As he pondered these things, Hunter heard his apartment door open and shut, followed by a familiar growl. "You thought it was all over, huh?" Hunter turned his head to see Larry at his doorway. But he held a different presence. More docile. He held his hands out to show he wasn't hiding anything.

 

"Are you here to gloat?"

"Of course not, there's nothing to gloat about. I'm just a traditional guy. You gave me a good release back there and, well, it would be mighty rude of me not to reciprocate."

“Excuse me?”

Larry grinned and slowly stepped towards Hunter. "Truth be told, I may have made a little bargain with the Big Man. It wasn't like I needed persuading to join the club, after all. I mean, look at me now." He flashed a smile and gestured to his beefy body. It certainly was an upgrade to his previous frail figure. "But I knew he would need some help with the other stragglers. Like you..."

“So you helped the landlord into tricking me since you wanted a bit of power. I kind of connected the dots there. Besides, you already told me that..."

"I wanted to be a strong and intimidating guy, sure. But as I got younger, I realised there was more that I wanted. And that's where you come in..."

"You already turned me into this middle aged brute. You won. What else could you possibly want from me?”

Larry smirked. “You really haven’t noticed?” he asked, giving Hunter a good poke. “The Big Man mentioned that you never truly accepted his welcome gift like the others, and I had a light-bulb moment. Every magic fueled concoction has its own little effect. The ones gifted to me by The Big Man served their purpose to induct you into the ways of the bear. However, the cigar that he gifted you could have also done the job. Hence I wondered what would happen if you combined the two. You see, I have always enjoyed the presence of an older man, an enjoyment I lost as I became older myself. But now that I'm young again... Well"

The colour drained from Hunter's face. How could he have been so stupid!? With surprising haste, he pulled himself off his sofa and squeezed back into his bathroom to once again gaze upon his altered reflection. He clenched his fist and grunted. Larry's hypothesis looked accurate. Hunter watched as the remaining dark hues in his beard faded to white with each puff of his cigar. What remained of his thinning hair was falling out in clumps until the top of his scalp was completely bare, only a horseshoe of rapidly whitening hair remained. His already stocky body was piling on more and more pounds as his belly bloated outward in a seemingly endless tsunami of fat. 

 

 

 

As Hunter watched himself succumb to the extreme effects of the cigar, a horrifying thought leapt to his mind. He didn't want it to stop. He wasn’t some sniveling hipster any longer. He was becoming a mature, thick man. Like a fine wine, he’d only gotten better with age. He gripped his bald head in a panic, trying to fight those unwanted thoughts.  He never wanted to be a fat, old bear! He was content with his old life as a young, scruffy, lean man with a dead-end job. Wasn’t he? Going nowhere, struggling from paycheck to paycheck. When the new landlord took over and lowered his rent, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, he could save money and not have to worry about any sudden expenses. Money he kept hidden away for a rainy day. It would make a pretty loaded retirement fund when saved up over the decades, more than enough to pay for the cigars and pipes he so longed to smoke. Never having to lift a finger again. He was free from work, free to live the rest of his days doing what he loved...

Hunter stumbled back in a haze. Could he really accept this new life? There was nothing he could do about it, after all. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad... He couldn't give up but deep down he knew he'd lost. He could escape his apartment, but then what? Nobody would believe him, he'd be another ranting old lunatic that people would avoid in the streets. Maybe it was time to accept his new life. He was tired of resisting. Tired of fighting against the inevitable. Just...tired... 

 

 As he stumbled back into the living room, Larry was already waiting for him on the sofa, beckoning him over with the pull of a finger. Hunter felt himself move towards the younger man, no longer resisting the latent urges inside. Larry wasted no time grasping at the old man's body, stroking his belly and kissing his bearded cheeks. Hunter didn't even resist as Larry's hands slipped further down, right into his pants to fondle his cock.

Hunter leaned his head back, cigar in mouth, arms spread across the back of the sofa. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Larry apparently had a thing for old men, and Hunter definitely fit the bill now. And he couldn't deny that he was getting turned on at the prospect. Larry pulled the old man's cock out of his pants, feeling it stiffen within his grasp. Still got it, Hunter thought with a smirk as it bobbed and swayed with a desire for release. Larry lunged forwards, taking his full cock in his eager mouth.

 

With a content groan, Hunter continued to puff on his cigar. He was packing on the pounds now, his belly bloating out like a water balloon. His pecs were softening with every breath, sagging downwards and resting on his belly. As he rubbed his soft body, a rare smile cracked through his unruly beard. Now that he'd stopped resisting, he actually felt good about his body. It wasn't half bad being so fat and hairy. He glanced over his round belly and to the man who was suckling at his cock with an unbridled passion. His head was starting to slap the base of his belly, making it shake with joy. The way it jiggled like jello was mesmerizing to watch. Hunter exhaled a cloud of smoke and groaned as Larry suddenly hit a good spot.

Hunter reached down and brushed a hand over Larry's head. It was hard to believe this virile man used to be a grumpy old coot. It was harder for Hunter to believe that he himself was almost that old coot's former age. The thought alone made him moan in pleasure. He wasn't some inexperienced, young man any longer. He was a retired man with decades of life under his belt.

It was as if a switch flicked in his head, everything clicked. He was an old man, living in a building filled with other men, each one as brawny and hairy and manly as he was. Why didn't he see it before. He had resisted the changes up to this point but now he finally understood everything. He had gained everything he wanted. Larry upped the ante and Hunter winced. "Hngh....I'm..." He growled in ecstasy as Larry released his warm grip and Hunter ejaculated sticky ropes of cum onto the man’s masculine face. He kept cumming, his seed splattering down the Larry's hairy, burly torso. Following on, Larry growled as he yanked his cock out and shot his own load onto the old man’s fat belly. He fell forward, laying against Hunter, resting his head on his furry chest. 

 

"I fuckin’ love you, daddy," Larry growled in that gritty bass before slipping his expert tongue into Hunter’s mouth. They only broke free of each other's grip so they could get back to their other passion. Larry grabbed a couple cigars from his abandoned clothes, passing one to his older companion, who took it with an eagerness previously unseen up to now. Hunter flopped his head back against the sofa and exhaled a heavy plume of smoke with a contented smile. To think he had spent so long resisting the call. Finally, he was one of the guys now. Another bear in the apartments.

Hunter stretched out across the rest of the sofa and gazed down at his new body, utterly transfixed. He patted his huge belly with a loving smile, before leading his hand up to his saggy pecs covered with white fur. He scratched at his bushy beard, and pawed at his bald head, each far different to how he looked mere hours ago. To think that he truly was a retired, older man now. He was almost as old as Larry was that morning. If only Jamie could see him now, he thought with a smug smirk. The kid would lose his mind! Maybe it was worth inviting him over to see the results... 

 

As he stroked his younger lover's head and puffed on his cigar, he finally felt at peace with the whole situation. Maybe it was just the cigars talking but it sure felt good to just let it all go. The two men stayed in their meditative state for a few minutes until their peace was disturbed by a sudden knock at the door. Hunter grumbled and yelled "It's open!"

The door swung inwards and there he was, The Big Man. Their landlord. He was beaming when he spotted his two newest bears cuddled up in companionship. "Well hello," he purred as he walked into the room. "I thought I would pop in and see how you fellas were doing."

"We're doing just fine, sir," Larry said as he exhaled a plume of smoke. 

"That's right, we're just dandy."

"Good, good. Well I'll leave you two to your heart's whim." He turned towards the door, paused, and turned back. "Unless... You two have anything you'd like to address. Or undress..."

Hunter locked eyes with his landlord for a second, a slight tension between them. Finally, he cracked a small smile and nodded his head. The landlord closed the door and sauntered towards the two bears, eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. Things were going to be just fine at Ursa Complex.

Santa's Wish

"Here you go, Brent. An early present from me. And be sure you stay on my nice list."

"What do you say to Santa?"

"T-thank you..."

"Hohoho! The pleasure's all mine. Have a very merry Christmas!"

Brent and his mother slipped away through the back of the grotto, Santa waving them off with a beaming smile. As the door closed, he slumped in his seat and dragged his hands down his face with an elongated groan. "Just one more week, Scott," he grumbled to himself. "One more week and you won't have to hohoho for another year..."

Scott had lived a long, hard, mundane life. He was born out of wedlock to a couple whose relationship was already on the rocks before feeling obligated to wed, with constant bickering and anger. Yet neither of them treated him with respect, only coldness and distance. He didn't achieve much in school, didn't even make it to college. He married early, giving up his lofty dreams to work in a mundane office job so he could provide for his wife and kids. And even then, his wife cheated on him with his best friend, kicking him to the curb. As his kids grew and moved onto greener pastures, he eventually found himself a lonesome retiree.

However, despite all of this pain, Scott had manged to keep a chipper and positive outlook. Even when he was a child, he always put the needs of other people before his own. He spent countless hours volunteering at charity events and blood drives. Soup kitchens and beach cleanings. He deemed everyone else's needs to be more important than his own. Always smiling as his own world crashed down around him.

Which was why Christmas was such an important holiday for Scott. It was a time for sharing, for togetherness, for bonding. The only light in his life now was Christmas time, when he could put his large stature and bushy beard to good use posing as Santa in the nearby mall. However, it was getting harder and harder to portray the big guy. Longer days, longer hours, and more and more families trying to get their kids to see him. Plus, he was only getting on in years. Maybe he was getting too old to play Santa. For the first time in his twelve years, Scott was glad it was almost Christmas Eve, and he could have a good long rest back in his own home. Alone...

"Are you ready, Santa?" A chipper young elf helper asked, bringing him back to his senses.

Scott pulled himself up in his seat, getting into Santa mode, and nodded. "Bring the next one in."

Into The Convention

 So in an unusual turn of events, I'm throwing out a spoiler warning. If you haven't seen Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, then I suggest you do so before reading this. Otherwise, enjoy!

It was a bright weekend morning at the World Plaza Hotel, and the lobby was buzzing with activity. The annual comic convention had come to town, bringing hundreds of cosplaying fanatics to the hotel. The conference halls were packed and everyone was ready for a good time. Everyone except Andy. He stared out of his hotel room window, too high to even make out what was happening down below, and sighed.

The only reason he came on this trip was the convention. When he found our his dad was staying at the hotel for a business trip on the same weekend, Andy pleaded to tag along for the ride. His dad eventually broke down, but there was a catch. Since the trip was strictly for work purposes, they could only visit the convention in the afternoon. Andy reluctantly obliged but in hindsight, he may as well have stayed home given how he couldn’t even leave the room by himself.

At least he still could watch his favourite movie as much as he wanted. He was already on his third rewatch that day. But it was so good, he couldn't bring himself to watch anything else. Plus, it helped hype him up for his first convention. He jumped back on his bed and grinned as an animated Spider-Man appeared on screen. Andy was the biggest Spider-Man fan, maybe ever. He'd seen every movie, every cartoon series, and read some of the old comics that they kept in the library. He even dreamed of Spider-Man every night. His favourite? Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, obviously. It had not one Spider-Man, but multiple Spider-People! He had almost memorised the script to heart. Yet not even the thrill and hilarity of Miles Morales discovering his new powers could quieten his mind.

Andy looked to his suitcase, where his very own Spider-Man costume lay waiting, his thoughts turning to the previous day. He peeked into one of the conference halls while his dad checked into the hotel, and they were still setting everything up. As he walked away in disappointment, he accidentally bumped into an old man with a thick moustache and sent several boxes crashing to the floor. Of course, he offered to help clean up the mess as any do-gooder would do. He was tickled to learn that the old man was a costume vendor who dabbled in comic and movie accurate outfits. Andy was desperate to see what Spider-Man costumes he had, but his dad interrupted them before he could ask. The old man handed him a business card before scurrying back into the conference room. Andy shoved it into his pocket without even a glance. 

The movie had reached the end of its first act, and Andy was tearing up. No matter how many times he saw it, the moment where Spider-Man sacrificed himself to save Miles always packed a heavy punch. The city had come to a halt to hold a memorial service for Peter Parker, and Miles was preparing to purchase a costume in remembrance. Andy wiped away his tears and shuffled closer to the screen as Miles approached the counter. The shop owner looked mighty familiar. Any Marvel fan worth their weight would recognise the moustachioed old man, but Andy had someone else in mind... He dug into his pockets and pulled out the card he was given. It was solid black with gold lettering. 

JK/SL COSTUMING - THE COSTUME OF YOUR DREAMS

Andy chuckled softly as he wiped a thumb over the embossed words. His dream was to be like Spider-Man, but that was never going to happen. Radioactive spiders weren't real, let alone super powers. He'd done enough research online to know that much. He dropped the card on the floor and looked back up to the screen. He didn't notice as the card shimmered in the window light beam.

Again!?

I did not expect to have as long a break as I did, but I'm back! I thought I'd start off by revisiting an old favourite. You might recognise this as a caption I wrote a few years back. I thought I'd look back through my old stuff and take a shot at expanding on them. Are there anything you've read and wished it was a bit longer? Let me know and maybe I'll give it a go!

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

I arrived home from a long day at school brimming with anticipation. The weekend was finally here! I had no homework to complete, and no plans. It was just me and my PS4 all weekend long. I kicked my shoes off and dumped my bag on the staircase, only to pause in suspicion. The house seemed quiet. A bit too quiet... I gripped the banister and yelled upstairs. "Hey dad! You home?"

There was a pause before I heard a response. I couldn't make out what he said, it sounded like he was busy with something. He'd promised not to get up to his usual antics this weekend so hopefully he'd gotten a head start on cleaning the house. I fist pumped and darted into the living room, jumping over the side of the sofa to land on the soft cushions below. I grabbed the TV remote, started up the PS4 and got comfy. I'd had a busy week, and I was ready to play some games. I stretched my thumbs across the controller with a goofy grin, I really missed this. I barely had the time to do anything for myself recently. I was more than ready for some me time. I scrolled through my games library, a small twinge of guilt at how many I had yet to play. A few minutes of debilitating later, I finally decided on an old favourite. 

Yet before I could start it up, my stomach growled and I felt a sharp tingle run down my spine. It was a peculiar, unpleasant feeling that I had become familiar with, much to my disappointment. It's been almost a year since the first time and it still felt weird. I cursed out loud and jumped to my feet, tossing the controller aside. Why now of all times, he'd promised me a break this weekend! Already, I felt that uncomfortable, inflating sensation. Like someone was pumping me with gas. I yanked my shirt off in one swift movement, noticing how my chest seemed to swell with every breath I took. A couple of little hairs had sprung up around my nipples and the centre of my chest. 

Next, I unbuckled my belt and shimmied my jeans down my thicker, hairier thighs. I struggled a moment to get my feet through the leg holes, eventually losing my balance and falling back onto the sofa. I sighed in frustration, I've been through this ordeal a hundred times, at least, yet I still struggled with it. It would help if my dad didn't spring it on me without prior warning. I yanked my underwear off, freeing my junk from their tight, cotton confines. I scratched at my chin as sharp stubble broke through the skin in irritating waves. 

No longer at risk of destroying my clothes, I laid back on the sofa and waited for the changes to finish, mentally cursing my dad for using that remote again. By now, I looked like a college graduate with a slim yet firm body, and a decent spread of hair across my chest. Although I never stayed that way for long, as I raced through my twenties without much fanfare. As I continued to age, I could feel my muscles ache as they bulked up, which was always a welcome feeling. I grinned as my biceps inflated, and my thighs got meatier.

As I approached my forties, my scalp felt itchy as each individual hair faded in colour, focused mostly on the sides but a wave of steel grey eventually swept throughout. My skin grew weathered and rough as a subtle thickness blanketed my buff muscles. I flinched slightly as a tattoo inked itself into existence on my shoulder, which signalled the end of my growth spurt. I leaned back against the sofa with a sigh. Aging three decades in a few minutes certainly takes a lot out of you. I may have gone through the process dozens of times by now but it never got any easier.

The North Pole Experience

 Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a festive gift that I hope brings you some cheer, another Aardvark collaboration! Not only that, but the wonderful BigBerserk has also drawn up some fantastic illustrations to go alongside the story! I hope you all enjoy this magical Christmas adventure.

THE NORTH POLE EXPERIENCE

Five men get invited to test run a brand new immersive Christmas adventure at their local mall, filled with physical feats and magnificent treats. The challenges they face will test their Christmas spirit against Santa Claus himself, and it's not just their hearts growing three sizes! Who will be jolly enough to make it to the end? Who will complete The North Pole Experience?

Family Discounts

While I do enjoy being the apprentice to an all powerful sorcerer and working in his Magic Curiosities Emporium, there are a few problems. For one, I'm in a constant state of work and education. If I'm not manning the store and helping customers, I'm being taught the how-tos and what-nots of the magical trade. Every moment is an opportunity to learn according to my master. It can also be a lonely life as everyone I used to know in my previous life has forgotten of my existence, and constantly being under the watchful eye of my master made it difficult to meet other people. 

Then there's that code of impartiality I'm magically bound to. It's mainly because some real shady shit happens within the confines of this shop, and it's bad business to interfere no matter how immoral or unethical it may be. I can offer advice or even warn of potential doom, but that's as far as I can go. If someone wants a potion that Medusas their neighbour, or enchanted gloves that Elsas the town then that's their prerogative, we need to earn money somehow. And when those problems collide? Ho boy. There are times I've struggled to keep impartial when folks from my former life enter the store. Much like how one of my former cousins lives in the plaza pond waiting for a fairy-tale obsessed woman to attempt kissing him. I did warn him beforehand but a purchase is a purchase. He was a bit of a misogynistic jerk, so I can't feel too bad about his froggening... 

So today, I was in for a shock. A short, stocky man entered the store with his teenaged son in tow. I almost ignored them until I heard the kid whine about missing the sales at Game Hut. I froze in place and stuck my head around the corner. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was Wilbur! In my former life, he was one of my closest friends. We would hang out all the time watching movies, playing video games, pulling pranks. Now I was closer to his dad's age which made those heydays feel a little weird. It had been over two years since I last saw my pal, and he looked almost exactly the same. He still even had that dorky fringe cut. Meanwhile, I was a good 30 years older and more than a hundred pounds heavier...

I had to physically restrain myself from greeting Wilbur with a hug, and tucked myself away in the hopes I wouldn't be spotted. It wasn't like either of them would recognise me. Even without the age-up, my master had performed an intricate reality shift to remove any traces of my former existence from the world. But I still knew them, and it's always so awkward having to pretend that I don't.

Eventually, Wilbur's dad spotted me as he marched away from the clearance rack and towards the shop counter. He had a determined look on his face which worried me. What exactly had they come searching for? With the sales going on, there was a lot that could go awry. I couldn't go against my impartiality vow but this was The Wilburnator! My dearest friend! I had to tread carefully, and maybe throw them on a different path that could benefit them in other ways...