#bear tf

[guppyscolita]

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

More bears

Hur hur hur hur

[pobblebonked]

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

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

$5+ patrons get access to a patreon exclusive NSFW version!

[catton346]

Big Boy

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

"Hey kid! You lost?"

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

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

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

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

"No, Im good thanks."

"So youre a stogie man?"

"No."

"Cigarette?"

"Nothing."

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

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

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

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

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

"Getting excited, big boy?"

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

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

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

The man smiles. "Hard to think?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[onelittlespiral]

Sugar Crash

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

*ding*

Meeting at the Edge. You ready yet?

Speaking of arm candy…

Yeah, omw rn

Seriously, no costume?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No way to crash if you never stop

No more time for chit chat. Papa Bear wants sugar. Papa Bear wants sugar now.

[pobblebonked]

turn into a bear!!

commission for anonymous

[catton346]

Get Acculturated

Youre in the wrong place boy, its bear night but judging by your hairless twinky body you didnt know that, did you? Not to worry, he blows smoke in your face, we'll get you fixed up. Fixed up how? You know, help you blend in and get acculturated. Whats that, you dont smoke? Dont worry kid, you will. Here put on this cap, itll look good on you. Oh you dont like beards either? Well thats funny because youre rocking one now. Dont believe me? Look at yourself. He takes off your shirt, rubbing his hands through your fatteneing chest and growing chest hair. Getting hairy too. Bet you want a cigar dont ya, you always were a heavy smoker Daddy. What do you mean you dont smoke and youre not my daddy? Weve been dating for years, youre the one who got me to grow out my mustache too look like yours Daddy. Here, take a hit. If you really arent my daddy, if you really arent a smoker, youll be able to stop after one hit. See! I told you youd get acculturated and remember who you are.

[burrcapts]

The Long Haul

Here's one of the new caption stories from my Patreon if you enjoyed it and would like to read more stuff like it, there are a handful still unposted ones my discord channel! Plus a brand new one about two friends in an antique store turning into a bearish gentleman and his musclebound butler boytoy: https://www.patreon.com/posts/149964415

Ugh, Marcus couldn’t pull his pants up fast enough, the overwhelming stench of old piss still making him gag with every single breath he took, his nose did not get used to it one bit since the moment he’d hastily ran inside this bathroom. He’d spent the last five or six hours in his car with probably another few more left to go… and to think that the only thing waiting for him once he got there were stacks upon stacks of undigitized financial records! Six figure client his ass! This better finally land him that promotion he was after! Marcus grimaced after noticing a greyish stain on the sleeve of his shirt, thank god he’d packed up a spare one, he must have brushed it against something by accident. He wasn’t sure what, everything in here seemed to be covered in endless filth and grime, like it hadn't been cleaned in years! Marcus didn’t think it looked so bad at first, but probably only because it was nearly completely dark in here with only a single ceiling light still somewhat flickering on and off. Maybe taking a dump on the side of the road would have been more hygienic after all? Either way, he couldn’t get out of this place fast enough…

“P… please! Let me go! I… I  won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

Marcus was just getting ready to exit the stall when the entrance door to the bathroom suddenly slammed open, followed by rapid, frantic footsteps, the sound of someone gasping in fear, then doing it once more, with even more intensity when the door opened again, filling the space with countless heavy stomps and the chatter of gruff, amused voices. 

“Alex! P… please! I know you’re still in there, don’t let them do this to me!”

Marcus had no idea what the guy was talking about, his way of speaking kind of reminded him of a few jocks from his old fraternity, but he’d never heard them sounding so freaked out and helpless before. He couldn’t begin to guess who the others were, some truckers he’d pissed off? A gang of bikers? One thing he knew for sure was that they all seemed to think that his desperate pleading was the funniest thing ever.

“Whaddaya say Hog? Should we let yer old pal go?”

A deep, gravelly voice asked to a chorus of crude, snickering laughter.

“No fuckin’ way boss, been itching fer his hole ever since Bruiser pumped a load into mine!”

Oh god, what the fuck was going on out there?! Marcus heard them starting to push each other around, one body struggling another the other, then more of that evil, hungry laughter over a desperate, muffled voice as if a hand was clamped tightly on top of someone’s mouth. Then Marcus felt his stomach lurch as ripping of clothing and wet, rhythmic slaps of flesh against flesh reached his ears. Marcus froze completely when he realized what it was that he was listening to right now. What could he do… he had to do something… but it sounded like there were so many of them out there! He let himself slide down back onto the toilet seat out of the shock and fear. Suddenly he heard a pair of heavy boots stomping in his direction. Did one of them hear him?! Please no… 

“Yeah, breed that hole, Hog! Let’s see what kind of a hot fucker yer buddy’s gonna turn out to be!”

Marcus pressed his palm against his mouth as tightly as he physically could, terrified that even the sound of his own panicked breathing might give him away. He could hear the heavy boots were getting closer, tiny beads of sweat were starting to cover his entire forehead, almost trickling down his temples. Was it always so unbearably hot in here? His collar suddenly felt like it was beginning to choke him, Marcus would have loved to loosen it up if only he wasn’t too terrified to move as much as a muscle. 

He thought that he was only moments away from being discovered and dragged out there for all of those brutes to do whatever they wished with him. But instead it was the door of the adjacent stall which suddenly smashed wide open, the entire flimsy partition rattling violently as someone truly massive had dropped onto the toilet seat on the other side. Marcus caught a glimpse of him through the round hole in the wall that separated them, it was only a glimpse but more than enough to make the relief he felt after realizing he was safe very short lived. He was a literal freaking giant, even just his forearm, covered in dark, wiry hair looked thicker than Marcus’s entire thigh! 

The foul smell of cheap tobacco filled the air following the flicker of a lighter, but it could hardly compare in intensity to the musky stench which hit Marcus’ nostrils after he heard the man unzipping his pants! Dear god, it must have been weeks since that freak had last showered! His head was already spinning from the overwhelming intensity of the sweaty funk he was putting off and somehow that bastard had managed to make it even more disgusting. Spitting into his hand and starting to jerk off with the unmistakable shlick shlick while grunting in satisfaction.

“Aw fuck! Yer putting on one hot fuckin’ show boys! C’mon, give it to him Hog, you want to be the gang’s newest cumdump or him?”

All of them were just roaring with laughter. Marcus on the other hand could barely keep himself from gagging at the nauseating, ripe cocktail of piss, sweat and cum that seemed to be only growing stronger passing moment as it assaulted his nostrils. His head was swimming so much but he was afraid to hold his breath lest he suddenly passed out. The wild sounds of the orgy outside the stall, the constant deep, bestial grunts, they were all blending into each other.

“F… fuck… Alex… hnnghhh… my cock… oh fuck…”

By now he could only barely make out the voice of the scared, younger man they were using as their fucktoy. It sounded different somehow… raspy and deep, seeming so much older to the point where Marcus might not have even recognized it at all if he hadn’t called his friend by name. He could hear this helpless arousal in his words, each one being punctuated by a faint moan as if he could barely speak. It still carried a few notes of resistance, but it was so clear they were already being drowned out by this horrifying, wild horniness. Marcus felt goosebumps spreading across his back as he pictured all those hulking, unwashed men covered in pelts of matted fur as they were having their way with him… slowly polishing their massive, veiny cocks before they…

Marcus suddenly let out a muffled yet so unbelievably passionate gasp filled with pure lust. Almost unable to believe what he’d just done, he looked down, discovering that his fingers were now tightly clasped around his cock… his fully hard and visibly leaking cock! Dear god, what was he doing?! He could tell that his arm was just itching to move, to give it a stroke… he could feel his manhood throbbing against his palm… fuck… Marcus didn’t understand what had gotten into him, he didn’t remember ever pulling it out at all!  

Why would he? Just to… Marcus’ thoughts were suddenly interrupted by intense, gurgling choking, closely followed by a long, satisfied, horny groan of pleasure. One of them had shoved his cock down that helpless man’s throat but… it didn’t sound like he had anything against it anymore. His moans getting louder and louder, surpassing even the rowdiest of bikers, almost as if he was trying to egg them on and encourage them to fuck him harder. 

Marcus didn’t realize that he was slowly opening his mouth, letting his tongue loll out past his lower lip, his fingers gripping tighter onto his swollen shaft as they rhythmically moved up and down. Fuck, all those rough, brawny bikers, hairy like goddamn gorillas, bending him over… making him their bitch… Marcus pleaded with himself to stop thinking about anything of that sort but the images in his head were growing so vivid… passing the man between them like he was nothing, filling him from both ends. Marcus could almost taste all those unwashed, dripping cocks that they would so gladly ram down his own throat, smell all the loads spilled into the matted bushes of pubes that his nose would find itself shoved straight into with each thrust… oh fuck….

“Well, well, well… I reckon I hear another cockhungry pig in here, boys!”

He was so deeply lost in the near feral pleasure that even as he was moaning at the top of his lungs it took Marcus a moment to realize that this brutish, hoarse voice was talking about him. His right arm was moving like a blur around his cock, the entire crotch of his slacks thoroughly soaked with precum, dress shirt torn wide open, fingers of the other hand twisting a perked up nipple through the soft fabric of his white undershirt. What… what was he doing?! He had to stop this… he had to…

Marcus saw movement on the other side of the gloryhole… was the hole always this big…? Something slid through it without any warning. A cock… so massive and fat… easily thicker than his wrist, its impossibly swollen purple head glistened covered in pre under the sickly bathroom light. Its smell hit him even before it was fully on his side… the rank and ripe stink of a real man. Just like that any bit of clarity that Marcus had managed to momentarily regain after snapping out of the horny haze was already long gone. 

Please… please, run… His body started to move, but it was not towards the door like he wanted. Marcus was forced to listen in horror as his knees fell onto the grimy, cracked tiles on the floor with a heavy thud. His neck was extending forward, head tilting slightly to the side as he opened his lips as wide as he physically could… please run… a ripe, salty taste exploded on his tongue as he began to run its tip across the underside of the cock, greedily lapping up the oozing precum before closing his lips tightly around its immense girth. 

It was pure filth but the pleasure made his eyes roll back into his skull, the sluttiest, hungriest moan imaginable vibrating within his chest as Marcus began rapidly bobbing his head up and down, driven by an uncontrollable need he still couldn’t begin to comprehend. Each attempt to resist it only made him suck on the cock with more desperation, he was drowning in far too much pleasure to even notice as his cheeks started to become fuller, curving with dingy grey hair that with each gulp of precum grew thicker and spread further down his neck. It was already more than a stubble, rather a full, messy beard, matted, crusty with countless loads he didn’t get to completely swallow up before they started to spill all over his face.

Memories of it were appearing inside his head, cruising for cock at the sleaziest truck stops one could find… At first Marcus thought they were merely horny fantasies, same as before, but they felt so warm and familiar, just like the taste of this unwashed cock between his lips. He’d sucked off hundreds, if not thousands, he was a fucking pro at this! How else did his gut grow so damn huge if not from all those hot, trucker loads?! Marcus abruptly froze as he felt it swelling and pushing outwards against his palm, no… no, no, no, he was at the gym just yesterday… 

He knew it was true, he remembered it, but suddenly Marcus simply couldn’t figure out what for… to suck someone off? Nah, those shaved smooth muscle boys weren’t his thing, he liked to be fucked by a real man, beefy and hairy like a fucking animal! One that smelled nice and ripe too! He lifted one of his arms and took a deep breath of the musky funk that immediately filled the air. Fuck… groaning in pleasure as he watched his hand changing before his eyes, growing meatier and wider, every finger becoming rough and calloused with coarse, grey fur on top of every knuckle, spreading up to his wrist, then the forearm, fuck, it was getting so damn beefy too! 

Seeing something like this ought to have scared the shit out of him but instead Marcus found himself jerking off even harder and faster, feeling his churning balls slapping against his thighs. By now his gut was already completely smothered against the compartment wall so Marcus couldn’t see just how massive his sack had gotten, but he still could feel how badly he needed to unload it! Though not before he gave that fat cock in his mouth a proper milking!

Salty pre was constantly leaking down his gullet as if from a broken faucet, each drop packing on further pounds of beef and bulk onto the frame of a once scrawny financial advisor. Now his shoulders were broadening, arms and chest expanding with slabs of heavy, raw muscle acquired through decades of hauling freight into his truck. Sweaty, grey streaked fur crawling all over his back, chest and gut. 

Fffuuuuuckkk… he heard his dress shirt and pants giving out and then haphazardly tossed them aside. By now only his undershirt was left, even if it hardly resembled the pristinely white, silky thing that he’d once shelled out a couple hundred bucks for. Nah… the fuck was he talking about? He found it in the sleeper cab of that big dicked trucker bear who fucked him last week, the hot bastard was using it a cum rag and let him have it as long as it fit over his gut! Thank fucking god it did, Marty had not once taken it off since and regularly added fresh new loads to it every couple hundred miles!

No… fuck… no matter how hard his cock twitched as he thought about this disgusting fucking filth he knew this wasn’t him!!! Marcus tried to pull back, to stop his hairy, calloused hand from pistoning up and down his stubby cock, to spit that massive, log of veiny meat out his mouth… but Marty’s lips were wrapped so tightly around it, massaging and worshipping every inch of it like a goddamn expert, so hungry for that huge, creamy load which he knew was only moments away from filling him up. He needed it so fucking bad!!!

Instead of pulling away, his face pushed forward, forcefully ramming every last inch of that gigantic fuckstick down his throat and in that same moment he heard a roaring grunt that drowned out even the sounds of the wild orgy still going on outside. It was as if a fucking geyser had erupted in his mouth, massive blasts of cum hammering at the back of his throat, squirting out through the gaps between the cock and the corners of his lips. 

He could hardly breathe but Marty was in fucking heaven, gulping down load after load as the enormous piece of meat pulsed against his tongue feeding him to his heart’s content. His own cock had long gone off and finished splattering his gut with ribbons of cum, adding yet another crusty layer to the matted fur which densely covered it, but this one was still going strong! Still pumping more and more of its seed down his gullet. Marty didn’t know that such a thing was even possible but he might have orgasmed again just from the sensation alone. His consciousness completely drifting off into a land of pure, horny bliss.

He’d just barely noticed it slipping out of his mouth after what felt like a whole lifetime. The wild rush of pleasure was slowly fading, but the need was not… if anything it was stronger now… Marty ran his tongue across his cum-drenched mustache and savored the salty taste, his cock was already twitching again, almost completely hard. Fuck! Fuck, that was so fucking hot! But he still needed more, so much more! He needed cock! He needed to be fucking bred! Pumped so full by those hot fuckers outside till he was leaking from both goddamn ends!

Marty just barely managed to heave himself up, kicking away the tatters of his ruined pants still hanging around his ankles, then lumbered out into the bathroom, his furry, cum-soaked gut swinging from side to side, heavy balls churning with a fresh load and hole itching with need to be plowed. But the place was completely empty… Marty stood there blinking cluelessly in the flickering light. Dang, where’d they go? He could have sworn he could still hear them a second ago… 

But there was nobody here, just the grimy tiles, the rusted sinks, an old, worn cap that somebody left next to one of them. Marty instinctively put it on and then glanced at the reflection staring back at him in the dirty, cracked mirror. His cock instantly perking up at the sight, a hulking fucking beast of a trucker, huge beard matted with a fresh load of cum, solid beerkeg of a gut and arms like fucking hams! He flexed them in admiration before running his meaty paw through his mustache and collecting some of that still warm cum so he could savor its salty taste one more time.

“Reckon I better hit the next stop soon…”

He said in his new, husky voice. Those goddamn bikers might have already split, but there was always bound to be some horny fucker needin’ his cock serviced along his haul and Marty could hardly fucking wait! 

[masterwolftfs]

THE ATTIC CLEAR OUT: HAIR GROWTH CREAM

It started with a late-night scroll through one of those local free stuff sites where people get rid of old VHS tapes, mismatched dinnerware, and “vintage” electronics that were probably just stolen, broken, or both. But as @stay-at-homedadblunders browses, one post caught his eye:

“Clearing out my attic, free stuff, come take it!”

The attached photo showed a dusty cardboard box filled with mostly junk, things like mason jars, old books, a... a small, unlabeled tube. The description was vague, but something about that tube made his fingers hover over the keyboard. Maybe it was the way it gleamed under the dim attic lighting in the photo, or the fact that the guy hadn’t even bothered to mention it. It was basically haphazardly chucked in with the rest, carelessly strewn atop some articles of clothing, as if chucked on last minute.

Probably just some expired ointment, he thought. But he messaged anyway.

The tube was smaller than it looked in the photo - about the size of a travel toothpaste, with a plain white label that had long since faded. The cream inside was thick, off-white, and smelled of cedar and something muskier, like aged leather. It honestly made him feel a little off smelling it, almost a bit high off the fumes. The thought it could be some kind of popper briefly popped in his mind, but he'd never heard of cream poppers before.

“Hair growth formula,” the guy had said with a shrug. “Never bothered to getting round to try it honestly, and eh, look at me now! Don't really need it” he chuckled.

He wasn’t exactly balding, but his hair had been thinning a little at the temples, and his "beard" (if you could even call it that) was patchy at best. So that night, after a shower, he rubbed a dab into my scalp and along his jawline, again feeling a little high at the strong overbearing scent.

The cream was oddly warm - almost alive - and it soaked into his skin with a tingling sensation that wasn’t quite unpleasant. Just... weird. Like his hair follicles were waking up after a long sleep, and writhing in a weird type of dance. He fell asleep without thinking much of it.

He woke up itchy, not just a little tingle but a deep, crawling itch across his scalp and face. He scratched at my jaw and felt stubble. Thicker than usual. Coarser. He stumbled into the bathroom and froze. His reflection stared back at me, but different. His hair, normally fine and straight, was darker and had a slight wave to it. And as for his beard, well, he ran a hand over his chin. What had the previous night been patchy scruff, was no a dense shadow of hair. And not just on his jaw, but crawling up his cheeks, thickening down his neck, and connecting roughly to his sideburns and hair in an almost mane of hair.

“Holy shit,” He muttered.

He ran a hand through his scalp, feeling the now much fuller hair, smooth and luscious like he'd just stepped out a salon. And as he flexed his arms absentmindedly, he didn't notice that it was all that little bit firmer, more defined. He told himself it was just the morning light, that he was hallucinating from the slightly high, addicting feeling the cream had given him when he used it. But that night, he applied it again, so excited and hooked on the feeling that it might be real, and craving that high it gave him, that he didn't even bother cleaning off the big blob he dropped on his chest as he did, instead just rubbing it into his skin till it soaked in like the rest.

The next day, the changes were impossible to ignore. His beard had filled in completely, now a thick dark carpet over his jaw, with a beautiful moustache crowning it. His chest, the previous day smooth, was now dotted with coarse curls. And his arms? Ohhh, his arms. He flexed in the mirror, watching the muscles shift under a new layer of hair. His forearms were covered - a dense pelt of dark fur thickening as it got closer to his wrists. His shoulders were broader, his chest stronger.

He caught a whiff of himself - musky, earthy, an intoxicating scent not unlike the cream, making his head spin again. He liked it, no. He loved it.

In a mad daze, he started applying the cream everywhere. His chest. His arms. His stomach. Back. Armpits. Legs. Crotch. Heck, even his feet weren't spared. With each application, each rub, the tingling spread deeper and deeper, rewriting him from the inside out, forcing out more and more hair, more and more beast, more and more MAN.

By the end of the week, he was a completely different man, unrecognisable. His beard an untamed mane, his chest a wall of fur, thick enough to bury his fingers in. His muscles were huge, especially his arms and legs, not just hairy, but practically furry, biceps almost as large as his head. He spent the fourth day simply rubbing himself, moaning and losing himself in the pleasure of feeling his hands run through that hair, the feeling of hard firm skin on hard coarse hair, letting himself swim in the high of his own scent, and that of the cream. When he wasn't doing that, he was eating, wolfing down everything, meat, eggs, whole blocks of cheese. By day five, the fridge was empty, everything in consumed by him. And when he wasn't eating, he was sleeping, his snoring rumbling and shaking the house.

He stopped questioning the cream, stopped wondering if this was all normal and if he was sane. By day six, he stopped thinking alltogether about anything from before the cream.

Why would he? It had always been this way, hadn't it? He'd never been different, he'd always been this beautiful, hairy bear of a man. The tube ran out by day seven, not that it mattered.

He stood in front of the mirror, running thick fingers through the dense fur covering his chest. His beard was a wild thing now, merging seamlessly with the pelt covering his shoulders, his pecs, his gut. His arms were tree trunks, every inch of them coated in hair. He smelled like a feral beast - sweat, musk, raw masculinity. And he fucking loved it. He flexed, watching the muscles ripple under the fur. "This is me." He growled, "Really me." The man in the mirror grinned, teeth sharp, eyes dark with satisfaction.

And for the first time in his life, he felt complete.