Country Charm

Country Charm

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Probably for the best not to vacation at a ranch unless you want to learn what a real man is.

My word, this turned into my longest story yet! I hope you enjoy- Given the close finish do keep an eye out for the second place story coming soon! -Occam

The Old Red River Ranch had sent Louis coupons for an all inclusive vacation. Obviously he found the idea immediately shady and dubious, but checking reviews online it looks like the place is legit. He holds onto a healthy suspicion that the offer remains too good to be true but starts packing up to head out nevertheless. After what feels like no time at all he’s headed west to get some rest and relaxation at the Old Triple R.

Arriving at the ranch proper, Louis does not make it far at all before his expectations are dashed. None of the photos or information in his little pamphlet suggested that he would be working but as he rode a shuttle in he passed large advertisements boasting of the opportunity for visitors to labor for such a high caliber ranch as the Triple R. It’s not like he was expecting a spa, but dude ranches don’t typically have you herding cattle right?

Louis is crestfallen as he is dropped off on the dusty road with his luggage. The shuttle driver tips his hat and says, “Be back in a week aye?” and promptly speeds back the way he came. Louis stares off dumbfounded at the trail of dust in his wake, that can’t be right can it? He would’ve sworn it was only three or four days, really he should know eh. Louis is interrupted before he is really able to interrogate his memory by a large hand patting his back.

“Hey there partner, you must be Louie.” Louis catches himself before he falls over and struggles to hide the fear in his eyes by plastering a tight-lipped smile on. Looking to see his assailant he finds a shockingly large man, at least a foot and a half taller than himself and a chest wide and hairy enough that Louis can’t help but think of the livestock the man must help rear. He opens his mouth to say something though his mind bombards him with too many options to spit out. The cowboy throws out a hand to shake which, nothing if not a gentleman, Louis cannot help but meet with his own.

Clearly not from the South, Louis is not at all expecting his hand to be trapped in an iron grip. His eyes widen as he sees the tendons in the man’s arm tense to enact this pain unto him, his eyes glistening above a perpetual grin, “Names Rusty, happy to have ya here Louie.” In response Louis struggles to put any power into his own grip before sheepishly replying, “It’s uh Louis actually.” Rusty lets loose a hearty laugh and slams his meaty palm into Louis’ back once more, “Hah sorry ‘bout that bud. Trust I’ll get it right next time. How ‘bout we get you inside there?”

Without waiting for a response Rusty hoists up Louis’ luggage and breaks for the ranch house at the end of a long dirt path. Louis watches him run off, unable to overlook how powerful his ass and thighs are in his tight jeans. He sighs before bouncing on his backpack and slowly following after, reconsidering if this experience is even worth suffering through for free. First things first though, he’ll need to get his stuff back from the oaf that just made off with it. 

Dragging himself to the front door Louis starts to knock before it is wrenched open by who else but the apparent welcome committee of one, Rusty who cheerily shouts, “You ready to get yer hands dirty bud!” Louis opens his mouth to say any of the litany of excuses to why he must leave right now, though seeing the excitement in Rusty’s eyes he just opts for the truth, clearing his throat before starting, “So sorry Rusty but, um, I was kind of not expecting to y’know, do manual labor on my vacation, so I think if it’s alright with you I-”

Rusty puts both his hands on Louis’ shoulders, interrupting him as the weight of his arms send an unmissable blush across his face. The joy in Rusty’s expression slightly dissipates, though he tries to keep it light, “Oh no worries there, lotta visitors ain’t about livin’ that cowboy life. I’m sure you’ll still find sumthin’ worthwhile to do around here!” Louis does not feel reassured standing in the gaze of this man, though seeing the light in him lessen he does feel a little guilty. He quickly shakes it off though, why was this bull of a man expecting him to chip in at all! He’s five feet and change and could probably not lift 100 pounds, why on earth would anyone ever expect him to perform any kind of physical work. 

Still, he is here and it is getting quite late, doubt he’ll be able to find accommodations besides spending the night here. He assuages Rusty that he’ll give it a go and Rusty leads him to his room, showing Louis his own on the way should he need anything. Louis is unconvinced that he’ll be finding any real leisure in this but he is now resolved to give it his best try. Judging by the general demeanor of Rusty and the baseline comfort of the lodgings at the very least he hasn’t been suckered into one of those fragile masculinity bootcamps, which was really what he was worried about standing on that dusty road. 

Looking out the window Louis finds evidence of some of the other men staying at the ranch. Unsurprisingly no one else seems to be of his, uh, diminished disposition. They do all seem to be having a good time doing whatever chore they’re doing after supper. As he watches a few of them discard their shirts and Louis starts to feel like a lech gawking at the sweaty men laboring. He closes his blinds and goes to sit on his bed, grabbing a book from his luggage. 

He starts to read as he awaits for the day to end and his time here at large to swiftly pass. Before too long however, he finds he just can’t get comfortable in the bed. All of a sudden he feels a little pent up, Louis shivers as he feels some all too familiar urges start to influence his mind. Unable to focus on his book as he is increasingly overcome by the demands of his loins Louis discards it and takes off his pants, though he abstains from masturbating outright thus far. Rusty was awfully touchy-feely, he’s not used to such a powerful man manhandling him as he did. He should have been more prepared to see a crowd of cowboys however.

As his mind flashes back to the events of this evening what must have made him horny it of course only makes the issue grow more pressing. He snakes his hand into his boxer-briefs and his balls pulse as they feel headway gained. He grimaces as he feels almost disgusted at the control his dick seems to have over his mind at the moment, though this only heightens the intensity of the pleasure rolling across his body. He removes his underwear and almost enters delirium as his cock bounces free of its confines, his thin chest reddens with blush as he is almost overloaded with sensuality. His balls feel heavy and full as he reaches down.

Any true control over his actions has been thoroughly abandoned as his cock grows harder than ever before in want of release. His last conscious thought figures that it would be best to get this over with as his interactions with these manliest of men are sure to be ongoing. His body contorts on the bed as his hips hump the air as he pursues pleasure in the only way he can. After seconds or hours Louis feels himself reach the pinnacle of his ecstasy as he feels his larger balls pull and he unloads into the open air of his lodgings, ropes shooting upwards onto the headboard and his body in its wake. He immediately falls into a dreamless sleep as his body prepares for whatever awaits him tomorrow.

Sun leaks in through Louis’ closed blinds as a handful of roosters crow outside in the ranch. Louis bolts up in bed as the ecstasy of the previous night returns to his mind in flashes. He rubs his face and finds it scratchy, deciding it must be time to shave again. He throws his legs over the side of his bed and sits up, pointedly not looking at the bulge in his pants as his morning wood is clearly larger than usual, nor does his mind draw attention to the absent mess he made last night. Instead he makes for his ensuite bathroom to shave. Louis usually shaves once a week so this should be the only time he has to here, he scratches at his face feeling it being just a tad thicker than usual before he lathers up with shaving cream and gets it done. 

With each pull of the razor he feels himself wake up more, by the time he’s finished he is absolutely raring with energy. It’s like coffee is running through his veins despite having had nothing to eat or drink since before his arrival. He contemplates what to throw on for his theoretical day of leisure before realizing he didn’t unpack. Looking around the room however he finds a tank-top, jeans, and some boots with a letter from Rusty, “To Louie- In case you wanna come out with the boys >:) -Rusty” The discomfort from Rusty getting inside his room aside, Louis for some reason feels drawn to putting on this outfit. 

Certainly not his usual fashion but when in Rome right. The more he thinks about it he isn’t sure if he would be comfortable just sitting around while the cowboys are all out there working anyway. His mind is of two sides, and the fact that he isn’t questioning why on Earth he is suddenly willing to throw on a wife-beater at all points to which side is sure to win. He mumbles and groans at his indecision before just opting to put on Rusty’s outfit with a jacket thrown on over top. The clothes are all a few sizes too big, though certainly not large enough for Rusty himself. Louis makes a note to grill the man over the whole situation as he steps out.

His boots click loudly on the paneled floor as he finds his footing in them, not entirely sure it’s safe to wear boots that are too big, though heading out in spite of this. Rusty’s eyes light up as he sees Louis walk down in his laid out garb. He cheers, “Good morning Louie, come on down and meet the crew!” Louis opens his mouth to correct the man before he is shouted over by the horde of men sitting around a large table eating breakfast. He sheepishly walks over to sit in the open seat by Rusty, trying to stand taller than he is, unaware that his efforts pay off as his spine stretches and his chest puffs out.

Rusty throws his arm around Louis’ shoulder and Louis can’t help but sniff as the man’s B.O. is once more forced to the front of his mind. He feels a pulse go through his only recently quieted cock as he realizes he probably should have rubbed another one out this morning. Rusty looks down at him with a coy smirk, his deep voice trying to speak so only Louis can hear, “So you wanna come see what real men do on the ranch huh?” Louis blushes from the intimacy, shrugging as he looks away to avoid getting too heated from his scent. Rusty takes this as a yes and cheers before directing the men out to the fields.

his as a yes and cheers before directing the men out to the fields. 

The men file by, giving Louis pats on the back just as Rusty did last evening before Rusty taking up the rear slaps him on the ass and drags him out alongside them, “don’t you worry ‘bout goin’ too hard now, Louie. Day one you can take a back seat and watch, mostly.” Louis rubs his ass where Rusty slapped him, perturbed at the indignity while being more than turned on at the act. He feels his ass start to better fit the pants as he wanders after the crowd of men, grateful that for whatever reason the jeans seem to be hanging better on his hips.

The day goes by without much note, despite ostensibly joining to avoid gawking at the men working, it is what makes up the bulk of Louis’ day. Sitting in the sun he throws on a ball cap to keep it out of his eyes. He struggles to ignore the dozens of erections that demand his attention as the hours pass, each one slightly more intense than the last as each time it fills his pants ever so slightly more. His balls beneath growing hungrier and fuller as the minutes trickle by. Sometime in the back half of the day Louis decides to try and engage with their activities to distract himself. Seeing the men working intense machinery and sweatily lift massive objects with a smile, Louis starts to daydream what exactly he would be able to do if he joined them.

From afar Rusty watches as the quiet man looks around the ranch, staring at hay bales and motioning with his arms. Unaware that each step in his mind towards masculinity his body will follow suit. He raises an arm behind his head and notices his jacket is catching oddly, so he discards it and reveals the show that is soon to start. Louis slowly circles the field as his arms start to put on mass. His arms snake longer and larger as he taps on a tractor and talks shop to the man sitting in its seat. The two of them laugh and Rusty watches as Louis’ chest expands, his shoulders and wingspan stretching larger with each hearty exhalation.

The rate at which Louis’ balls continue to expand he finds it hard to not simply just think with them as hormones begin to course through his mind, filling him with a confidence he has never had before. Just as everyone is starting their final tasks before supper Louis decides to step up and help out, only polite to help them get done faster right? He flexes his arms unconsciously as he makes his way towards Rusty to inquire where he could best fit. Rusty points him towards equipment to bring back to the shed, sure that even now it’d be a struggle for the tourist to handle.

Not to be emasculated, something he’s never been concerned of before, Louis stomps over, paying no mind as his shoes suddenly fit the boots he was swimming in hours ago. His jeans hug his thighs as he bends down to hug his arms around the large hunk of metal. Muscle that has never been there presses into the harsh lines of metal and he strains to stand. Veins force their way on his neck and his body bursts larger as it struggles to imbue him with the power to lift it. He smirks as his pecs force their way out larger and his core tightens with strength. Around him his, or no, the other cowboys grab the rest with expediency and little ado. Pride fills him as he does his part and gets whatever this machine is back inside before heading back to Rusty, struggling to hide the proud grin on his face.

Louis takes off his hat to shake sweat from his hair as Rusty ruffles it and laughs, “Had fun today did ya Louie? Feelin’ stronger than you thought you were?” He tries to hide the fact that he’s blushing from the cowboy as he raises an arm to flex, no thought in his mind about correcting his name. His face between shifts disgust and delight as his suddenly masculine stink breaks through the deodorant he hastily threw on this morning. Then Rusty grabs at his jaw, angling Louis to look him in the eyes as he continues, “Oh? And yer startin’ to grow a beard too, not bad at all.” He releases the visitor’s face as he ratchets it out of eye contact to inspect his own apparently bearded face.

He knows he shaved this morning. But there is no way he would have left this little goatee combo untouched? He’s never been one to grow anything, as he feels at his face a warmth yet again begins to rise in his crotch. He worries that his hair-trigger down there might be a real problem for him, as stubble on his cheek scratches his hand his stomach turns from the sheer pleasure coursing through him. He ceases his facial inspection and ambles after the rest of the crew, scratching at his pits as he does so, toying with the hair he would’ve sworn was not nearly this long or thick. When he thinks no one is looking he brings the hand to his face to smell and he leans on a wall to avoid falling as his hips aimlessly hump in response. He feels pre start to pool in his underwear and hopes that there won’t be an obvious stain.

 Supper that night is a standard affair, Louis refrains from considering how he knows what standard is as his eyes scan the other cowboys, keeping quiet. His eyes dance across their manicured beards and massive hairy chests and where there once was just lust there is a pervasive envy as he inspects them. At one point two of the men get in a tiff and Louis watches as they aim to resolve it via wrestling. He bites the side of his cheek as he tries to inconspicuously watch the two men clutching at each-other on the floor. He hears his cock strain the pants that were impossibly large this morning as his heart starts beating faster in his chest. His chair creaks under him as he tries to quietly adjust, only making his nerves rise higher.

Rusty turns from the spat on the floor to instead observe the newcomer. He sees incredible tension as Louis reacts to every turn and adjustment in the combat, each pointedly slow and deep breath pushes his wife-beater to its limit as indeed a stain is beginning to appear in his crotch, growing darker and larger with each second of the match. Rusty starts to grin watching the goatee on his face begin to darken and connect as the stubble begins to coalesce into sideburns. Louis scratches at a lower stomach and the unmistakable sound of fingers sifting through hair reaches the ears of both men over the din of the men doing everything but frotting on the floor.

Louis hears Rusty exhale and turns to see that he was clearly watching him. His eyes widen as he falls away from the table and breaks down the hall fleeing from it all. Rusty watches as in the sprint his ass and thighs expand even further, forcing a massive tear in the seat of the jeans before he arrives at his room and slams the door. No time or thought to hop in the shower Louis instead jumps face down in bed wanting to scream into his pillow as his mind is awash with unfamiliar feelings and hormones. As his body hugs his bed however he is reminded of the tightness in his crotch as it presses into his comforter. 

The other cowboys flash through his mind as he sits there shivering with lust in his bed. His hands cramp with the strength which he clutches at his mattress as his body has no recourse but to hump the bed like a dog. He shakes his head as he struggles to understand the thoughts, or lack thereof, in his mind. He wants them? He wants to be them? He feels his arms flex and the strength in them only continues to grow as he mindlessly continues to pump into the comforter. His feet grow tight in the boots he has been wearing all day before he rips them off to reveal socks torn asunder and foot odor that would get one banned from a locker room. He continues this act, pleasuring himself in a fashion before tearing off his clothes as his body continues to burn with passion and power before once more drifting away from consciousness.

In his sleep the prickles of a treasure trail continue to grow up his torso as soreness from his work, and from whatever one would deem his session of self-love just concluded, resolve as weight and strength are piled on. His body acts while he continues in a dreamless sleep continuing to rub against the sheets as the scattered blonde hairs on his chest begin to coalesce and darken on his pecs. Louis’ face contorts slightly in his sleep as he feels his small beard grow thick and messy on his face, spreading vines of hair down under his chin before launching down his neck to meet with his chest, which is rapidly being blanketed with its own fur.

Arms upraised to the headboard as they landed when he conked out, his pits firmly wet the pillow next to his increasingly itchy head as they refuse to be left out. His bush of pit hair curls and stretches beyond its realm. Easily connecting to the chest hair as a center trail connects his cum soaked pubes to his sweat and drool stained beard. Above his arms the hair from his pecs crests over his collarbone and starts to convert whatever vellus exists on his shoulders into the thick curly body hair of a man, as the dark hair of his forearms too spreads upwards to connect each and every stray patch of manhood on the man into an irrefutable testament to his masculinity.

At some point quite near morning Rusty enters to deliver clothes, as certainly nothing this man has ever owned could hope to fit. He is reminded of his own heady days when he came to the ranch as he is filled with primal urges from the man just from his scent alone. He starts to look over this impossibly prime specimen on the bed as his eyes begin to glaze over from the sheer desire, he just shakes it off before taking one final deep breath and departing to rub one out before he starts the day.

Today Louis wakes before the crow of the roosters and he stumbles to the restroom. Taking no stock of whatever mess he left for himself as he takes a deep sniff of his pits and smirks. Even yesterday there remained trepidation in his actions, hesitation at whatever is going on at the ranch. Though it seems he must have cummed his brains, or whatever sense remained in him out last night. His thoughts meander through a fog of hungers and impulses that do not at all befit the man that once stood in this place. One that thought no harm could befall him from giving this a chance. He stares at himself in the mirror, rubbing his beard, willing it thicker and grabbing his razor to even out some edges, cowboys gotta look presentable after all.

He goes on about his day, throwing on the clothes laid out for him, just a pair of underwear and jeans that already hugs his waist. He luxuriates at the tightness in his crotch and is grateful that the pants are dark enough to hide any pre-stains sure to arise in this hard day's work. Rusty greets him as he leaves his room, “Mornin’ Louie, ready for another one?” He grimaces as he hears Rusty call him this, twisting his neck as if there was a knot and rising even taller, suddenly needing to look down at a man who felt twice his size when they met. Words spill from his mouth with profound gravel and an unmistakable accent, “Y’know Rust. Think I’ll start goin’ by Lou iffn that’s alright with you.” 

For the first time Rusty is caught off guard, blushing as he feels the bass of the man’s tone in his chest, “Oh! Of course whateve-” Lou smirks and puts a finger to the man’s lips and his eyes widen in shock. Lou grunts and stretches, Rusty’s eyes trace the pecs as after they fall larger and heavier on his chest. He leans in to whisper in Rusty’s ear, “You noticed the ranch don’t quite got a point man?” Rusty bites his tongue as for the first time  since his heady days at the ranch he is caught in a loop, wasn’t he? He would’ve sworn it was? As he looks up at the man he thought he brought in he cannot speak a word to the contrary.

Lou puts a large hand on his shoulder, patting pointedly rough on the man as he asserts himself. “How ‘bout you follow my lead today eh Rust?” He smirks and hoists his pants higher, highlighting his bulge as Rusty feels his own start to grow from the intensity of the man before him, he opens his mouth to speak but with a look down from Lou he immediately relinquishes his voice, as he would anything, to the man before him. Desire tinges his every thought in his mind, and every tensing muscle in his body as he stands by his point man. Lou throws an arm around him as the two make their way to breakfast with their crew. 

Lou commands the room with all the confidence and authority he could muster, which increases with each lustful stare of his lessers in front of him. His pecs continue to swell larger as the bulge in his tight pants expands with labored clearing of his throat. It bobs in his pants as he scratches at his still increasing jungle of pubes. Their first meal nears its close as Lou assigns their daily tasks and missions with aplomb and clarity, as if he had done so hundreds of times before, Rusty standing to his side and nodding with a submissive, hungry, admiration. Before heading out himself he brings Rusty to a side room to take off his pants and finally enjoy the company of a real man.

The two men whittle away most of the day just having at each other in a public area while the rest of their crew works. Each thrust making each both Lou and his Rusty more emblematic of masculinity, of being a true rancher. After loosing enough loads to finally get a second or two of clarity in his mind where he’s not purely thinking with his balls, Lou throws on nothing but a jock and chaps and heads out to look over the fields of the Old Triple R with all the pride he typically reserves for his own body. Sweaty arm around Rusty as he whistles with satisfaction, side-eying the man as he basks in the smell of Lou’s pits. He smirks as he thinks aloud at the glory of his domain, certain it is only going to continue to increase. “Sure can’t wait to show all the world what we got brewin’ for ‘em Rust.” Their eyes scan the horizon with an intensity as they eagerly await the bus sure to carry another lackluster recruit that they will shape into a true stallion of a man.

A Hairy Remedy

Mark had been pacing back and forth all afternoon, waiting for the mail to arrive. He couldn’t focus on anything else, he’d been waiting weeks for this delivery and it was scheduled to arrive today. Every noise from outside had him rushing to the windows to peek through the blinds. Mark was nearly 30, yet looked barely 20. He’d endured a decade of people making fun of him for having a babyface or being too effeminate, and he’d had enough. After some research online he found some articles and testimonies about Rogaine, a hair growth cream aimed at guys who were balding. While that was the furthest thing from a problem for him, Mark found people on some forums that had used it elsewhere, who wanted to thicken up their beards and more. The before and after pictures he had seen had sold him, and he immediately went and ordered some online. 

He took a break from mindlessly pacing around to use the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror really illustrated how right his bullies had been. His skin was completely smooth, with barely any peach fuzz on his face. That would change soon, he thought, a beard would surely age him up a good bit. Not that he wanted to look old, but not being carded at every bar would be nice. The doorbell rang, and Mark tripped over himself trying to bolt to the front door. Yanking it open, he saw a small package on the mat, with the delivery van already speeding off. He quickly snatched up the box and slammed the door, giddy with excitement. Mark raced to the kitchen to grab the scissors, shredding the cardboard box open to reveal his prize. He held the tube of cream delicately in his palm like it was a newborn. This was it, his saving grace, he thought.

He quickly scanned the pamphlet that came with the cream, notably reading the line, “WARNING: This product has NOT been tested on areas outside of the scalp. We do not recommend usage anywhere besides the scalp, and cannot guarantee results.” Eh, he’d seen it work on guys online, it must be safe enough. Without further thought Mark dashed into the bathroom, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He felt a sense of power unlike anything before, knowing he held his fate in his hands. He nearly let out a comically evil laugh before realizing he was getting ahead of himself. It was just hair growth medication.

Mark opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream into his palm. Now was time for decisions. He probably should have thought this part through a little more, but no matter, he thought. He began to rub the cream into his face, making sure to stay in the lines of where a beard would grow. Starting with his upper lip, he massaged the cream into his bare skin, working from there down to his chin and then across his cheeks. The ointment was cool and tingled a little as he applied it. Despite his caution, while getting the underside of his jaw he heard a splatter. 

Looking down, he saw a white glob of the cream had fallen directly onto his chest. “Shit, that’s not good,” he cursed to himself. He grabbed a nearby towel before pausing. A smirk spread across Mark’s face as the thought dawned on him. Why not leave it? A little chest hair couldn’t hurt, he thought. The goal was to look a little older anyway. With a devious grin plastered on his face he started to rub the cream into his chest, most of it between his small pecs and spreading it out from there. Satisfied with the treatment he capped the tube and went back to the living room. Now came the hard part: waiting. He went back to check the package to see how long it would take.

“Four to six MONTHS?!” he wailed. He hadn’t bothered to look at a timeline or anything in his research, and this news was devastating to him. He’d expected it to take a while to work, but half a year? That was just too long. With an overwhelming amount of disappointment in his head, Mark collapsed onto the couch and turned on some TV. The rest of the day faded away as he tried to distract himself from how bummed he was. He turned in fairly early, it was Sunday anyway and he had to get up early for work the next morning. With one last glance in the mirror he confirmed that nothing had happened, and went to bed. 

The morning came in an instant, with Mark’s phone alarm wailing into the quiet sunrise until he rolled out of bed. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom and started getting his shower ready when he passed by the mirror and did a double take. He stared at his reflection, dropping his towel on the floor in shock. He had stubble. Not just a little peach fuzz, no, a decent layer of it all across his jaw. His hand slowly moved to touch it, to make sure it was real. His fingers grazed over the tips of the scratchy hairs, the prickly feeling sending shivers through his body. It had worked, overnight even! His grin widened as he looked down to see a dusting of hair on his chest where he’d rubbed the cream. He had chest hair! It wasn’t particularly dark or dense but that didn’t matter to him, he actually looked like he’d gone through puberty now. The hairs had sprouted in the center of his chest and spread out towards his nipples, growing long enough to start curling a little. 

With a renewed energy Mark hopped in the shower and continued getting ready for work. He was giddy with excitement, and couldn’t stop feeling the rough stubble on his face. He threw on his slacks and button down shirt and hopped in his car, nearly late from getting distracted so much. Thoughts were racing through his mind on the way to the office; what would people think? He walked in with a swagger he’d never felt at his job before, making his way to his desk and hoping someone would comment. It took until he and some coworkers left to get lunch for anyone to notice, however.

“Hey Mark, growing out a beard are you? I didn’t think you had it in you,” his coworker laughed. “It looks good so far!” he made sure to follow it up with. Mark beamed, someone had noticed! It was really happening. This may have been the best day of his life for all he could care. Anytime he was in private he would have one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, feeling the soft hairs. He could feel his cock jump at the sensation, pushing against his rather tight dress pants. Luckily no one could see that at his desk, he thought, moving one hand to rub down there. A couple other people commented on his new facial hair throughout the day, and Mark was ecstatic. This feeling was electric, addictive almost, he loved the attention and slight amount of respect the stubble seemed to have given him.

Before he knew it the work day was over and Mark scrambled to pack up his belongings to try and beat the rush. In the elevator down he scratched at his face, another grin plastered across his face. He had the classic 5 o’clock shadow for the first time, he thought to himself with a chuckle. A hardworking businessman he was now. He got entirely caught up in the rush hour traffic, but even that couldn’t put a damper on his day. An hour later he was home, walking through the kitchen and dumping his coat and bag. He entered the bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water on his face when he spotted the tube of Rogaine still sitting on the vanity. Mark stared at it, the elated feelings of the day still fresh in his mind. A thought began creeping up from the back of his mind, one that scared him, but also made his cock lurch in his pants.

What if I put on a little more? 

That was the end of it. The idea consumed him, and within seconds he’d torn off his dress shirt and was squeezing more cream into his hands. He spread a thick layer of it across his upper lip, feeling the stubbly hairs that now dotted the area. He then spread more out across his cheeks, which had a decent shadow of stubble across them. Next up was his chest. In the morning he’d been thrilled by the amount of hair now adorning the area, but now he craved more. He pushed more cream from the tube and spread it over a much wider area, from his nipples all the way up to his collarbone, and everything in between. Finishing that up, he realized he’d gotten some extra cream all over his hands, which he rubbed in without a thought. 

The feeling of mania slowly dwindled as he put the cream away and carried on with his night. As he ate dinner he began to worry that he’d gone too far, maybe he should have just waited. It was too late now, though, so he bottled up that worry and watched some TV before getting ready for bed. 

Mark bolted upright when the alarm sounded the next morning. He tore off his sheets and ran to the mirror to take a look at himself.

It had worked again! His stubble was thicker now, with a more pronounced mustache. The hairs on his upper lip were denser and longer, though the rest of his facial hair had also filled in somewhat even if it was still short. But the real showstopper was his chest. The hairs had spread far from the day before, crawling up his pecs all the way where he spread the cream. The hair was thicker, denser, and made him feel exceedingly masculine. He couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand over the more prominent chest hair, the soft hairs tingling under his fingers. His cock rose to attention in his boxers as he lost himself briefly in the moment, unconsciously rubbing his nipple with the other hand. Control slipping away from him, Mark began to moan as he pinched his nipple, feeling the stubble and chest fur that had sprouted. Moments later a rush filled his body, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum onto the mirror. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, coming back to his senses. What the hell was that? It had felt amazing, but it was as if a primal instinct had taken over him. He watched the cum slide down the mirror for a minute before snapping fully back to reality; he had to get to work! He quickly wiped as much cum off the glass as he could before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. He bolted out the door without eating breakfast, having realized how late he was. Just how long had he been feeling himself in there? 

He parked and scrambled to an elevator inside. In his haste he’d forgotten to button his shirt up all the way, but he noticed in the mirror that some of his new chest hair peeked out of the top. It looked masculine, virile even. He played with a couple of the hairs before the door opened on his floor and he had to act natural. The day was fairly uneventful, other than a couple different coworkers commenting on his stubble and mustache. Mark felt even more confident today than he had yesterday, despite the chaotic morning. As afternoon rolled around, he even unbuttoned his shirt a little more, letting the newly grown hairs breathe. He lounged at his desk getting some of his work done but mostly basking in his newfound masculinity, occasionally sneaking a rub of his chest hair.

Soon enough the day was over again, and Mark made his way home. He was thrilled with how he was looking, but somehow he’d gotten less attention today than before. That didn’t sit right with him. While stuck in traffic he tried to figure it out, going through scenarios and situations from the day. Maybe… he thought he was making progress but in the eyes of others he looked the same. Frustrated, he barged through the door of his house and grabbed a beer from the fridge before landing on the couch. He turned on the TV and cracked it open, slowly sipping away at it as the light outside faded into dusk. Finishing that beer, he went for another, nursing it and watching some mediocre movies. Eventually the beers caught up to him, and having to pee badly he hopped up and went to the bathroom. There, on the counter, was the tube of Rogaine.

It seemed to burn a hole in his vision, everything else fading away. The feelings of the last day flooded back to him; the confidence of being hairy, the frustration of it not being enough, the pleasure of cumming to his own hairy body. Mark felt the same devilish thought clawing back into his head, but no longer as a question. It was a desire.

I need more.

He opened the tube again, squirting the cream directly onto his chest this time, slathering it all across his pecs and down over his stomach. He rubbed the cream deep into his already decently hairy chest, before taking more and coating his face with another layer. Mark was spreading far too much cream on, and from his jaw it began dripping down his neck. He couldn’t care less. His logical self had taken a backseat, his body being driven by a deep seated need, a desire he’d been unaware of. Mark stripped off the rest of his work clothes and kept at it. He continued to smear the cream across his torso, spreading it from his chest up and over his collarbone onto his shoulders. He was so engrossed in rubbing the cream into his skin that he was oblivious to the slight itch that began cropping up under the thick paste.

Mark wiped the excess cream onto his forearms and stared into the mirror, breaths ragged. He’d worked himself into a sweat. The droplets streamed down his skin, pulling the cream with it. His eyes surveyed his wet, ointment covered skin for anything. That was when he noticed the itch. It had grown stronger, more prevalent over his chest as the skin began reacting to the heavy dose of cream laid on. Hairs started to push out of his chest, darker and thicker than the ones before. They grew longer as more and more filled in the spaces between. Mark’s cock grew harder as he watched the hairs sprout, feeling them coming in between his fingers. The hairs thickened into a dark rug, completely coating his chest and crawling upward, thick whorls of hair overtaking his collarbone. His neck, which had been bare until now, began darkening as the shadow of hair crept up over it. Long strands erupted from the base, continuing the chest hair up onto his neck; no collar would ever hide these dark hairs. His stubble crept down from his jaw to meet in the middle, growing darker and pushing out farther from his face. His nicely trimmed stubble was quickly becoming a scruffy mess, with the wiry beard hairs erupting all over his face. Mark used his tongue to feel the longer hairs pushing out of his upper lip, curling over and spreading over his cheeks. He was really tenting his boxers now.

The hairs began moving south, down from his chest in a line towards his navel. The thick line of fur blossomed outward across his belly, darkening the area with long tangled hairs that blotted out the skin. Mark rubbed his hand over the growing fur, groaning from the stimulation of the hairs under his hand. Without thinking he reached back for the tube of Rogaine, pushing more out into his hands before absolutely coating his pits in the stuff. He scratched and scratched as the itch spread from his chest there, looking like a monkey as near instantly thick black hairs shot out of his bare underarms. One after another they pressed out, his fingers clawing through a denser and denser bush. Soon enough they’d overwhelmed the area with a thick tuft of tangled hair, spreading even further to connect with the rug on his chest. Mark was overcome by the tingling feeling of hairs bursting from his skin, surrendering himself even more to what was happening. 

When he finally pulled his hands out of his pits they didn’t escape unscathed. The backs of his hands were coated with thick hairs, and as he pulled one up to his face to look closer he could see more worming their way out of his knuckles. The sight alone was enough for a glob of precum to shoot into his boxers. The hairs didn’t end there, however. They surged up his forearms, a tangled forest of black hairs erupting and growing dense. The same followed on his upper arms, connecting seamlessly to the dense fur coating his shoulders. He felt the signature itch of the hair growth spread from his shoulders down across his back. Turning in the mirror, he saw thousands of dark spots appear across his shoulder blade and race down towards his ass. Seconds later every spot erupted into thick curly hair, follicles pushing them out longer and longer. The mat thickened over his back as hairs curled and tangled together, especially right above his waistband. 

His body wasn’t done yet. Mark felt an intense prickling under his boxers and quickly pulled them down, scratching relentlessly at his inflating ass. He could feel as the prickles turned into wiry hairs, pushing out across his cheeks. He groaned as the feeling of thick hairs growing like fur in his crack was too much, shoving his hands in there to feel the thick pelt erupting from his skin. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt up his tight hole surrounded by a jungle of hair, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it before and leaking like a faucet. The fog he had felt absorbed in just that morning was returning, his body acting on its own in search of masculinity and pleasure. The hair growth only served to fuel that fire, spreading from his ass down his legs in a thick carpet over his thighs. The curls popped up from the skin, thickening as they pressed out from his skin into a fuzzy coating all the way to his feet.

Mark slid further and further into the recesses of his mind, intoxicated from testosterone as his body continued to change. His self-indulgence reached a crescendo as every other desire slipped away, flushed out of him through the faucet that was his dripping cock. 

More hair.

His hand reached for the tube again, emptying the last of it into his palm before reaching to grasp his rock hard cock. He slid his hand up and down, coating it in the cream and letting the rest drip all over his groin. A moan slipped out as he continued to pump his member, it slowly growing thicker and longer as it absorbed the cream. More drops of cream splattered into his sparse bush, Fertilizing the ground for what was next. Dark hairs began popping out of his skin, dark and thick. They pushed out longer than his old hairs, filling in the space between them rapidly. 

More hair.

His pubes erupted in mere minutes, a dense triangle of fur filling out his crotch, tangling and curling together as the scent of musk and ointment grew stronger. The hairs continued their conquest, reaching up to his stomach and out over his thighs. His balls swelled larger before becoming enshrouded in a carpet of their own. His cock continued pushing out longer as Mark pumped away, groaning as it grew thicker and more sensitive. 

He wasn’t done yet, as more and more hairs filled in all over, rugs connecting into a massive carpet of body hair. The hairs were ever crawling up the shaft of his massive cock thanks to the cream. Mark’s breathing had grown intense, groaning nonstop as instinct took over completely. One hand rubbing through his thick fur and the other edging him closer and closer to climax. He could feel the tingle as the hairs lengthened and thickened, coarse hairs rubbing against each other as they matted together.

He roared as everything finally peaked, his cock erupting with rope after rope of cum. It went everywhere, getting tangled in all his new grown fur. He continued pumping load after load out, an unbelievable amount of cum poured out of him onto his hairy body. He gasped as every pump of his cock sent immense waves of pleasure through him, squeezing every last drop of cum out. He let go of his softening member and moved his hands to his chest, feeling the sticky cum in all the hair. 

“Fuuuuuck yes…” he groaned as he rubbed the cum into his fur just as he’d done with the cream earlier. His bush was completely soaked with cum, and he could feel the hairs thickening as he massaged the area. All over his body, the cum served only to encourage even more growth, and quicker than the Rogaine ever had. Dark hairs pressed out between previous ones, covering him in a dense pelt that hid his skin beneath. Cum slowly dribbled out of his cock as the pleasure swept through his system. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, and Mark was brought back to the forefront of his brain. The primal instincts that had control for the past hour gave up their hold. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Black fur coated his whole body, cum dripped from patches all over him. His cock was now dangling at eight inches soft. He slowly moved his arms to feel the hair growing all over him, trying to process his reality. He only managed to get two words out.

“Oh, fuck.”

Could you turn me into Santa Claus? I want my cookie cravings to make me fat, furry, and bald. I’ll grow a massive white beard and my body hair will lighten to match. Ho ho ho!

It’s officially winter, and snow is starting to fall outside as you sit by the crackling fire. The smell of fresh cookies wafts in from the kitchen; you’d put in a roll of store bought dough earlier. With your stomach already growling you hop up and pull them out of the oven. The smell is intoxicating, and you set out to cool, barely able to make it a couple minutes before you grab one and stuff it in your mouth. The sweet and salty dough alongside the bittersweet chocolate is exactly the flavor rush you needed. You head back to the fireplace and leave the rest of the cookies to cool, letting out a burp. When you sit back down, your belly jiggles just a little more. As you scroll on your phone, your average frame starts growing a little heavier. You sink further into the plush chair, weighing a few pounds more. Your stomach growls again. You swear you just ate, but maybe the cookies are cool enough by now. In a few seconds another large cookie sits in your hands as you devour it. Without even noticing, another five pounds adds itself to your belly. A number of wispy hairs poke out of your smooth chest as you stuff the remains of the cookie down your throat. They’re unbelievably good, but you should leave some for later. 

Well, maybe just one more, you tell yourself as you grab another, chowing down as you walk back towards the fire. Your belly grows more, and your pecs soften as they push out slightly. Your thighs grow a few inches and your jawline starts to lose its definition. A slight shadow inches down across your jaw and over your upper lip as peach fuzz darkens and thickens. Your stomach rumbles as more and more fat begins loading itself on your frame, your arms and legs plumping up, muscle growing in but quickly buried beneath the chub. As you finish off the cookie your body starts to itch. The wispy fuzz across your chest begins to grow thicker and darker, new hairs popping up across the expanse as your pecs sag even more. Dark hairs sprout across your chest and spread up and over your shoulders before your still growing belly is also buried beneath the growing pelt. Your armpits tingle as wiry hairs blossom and quickly become a sweaty tuft of hair. Your slight stubble follows suit, follicles pumping out long dark hairs as the covering grows dense. The hairs pushing out of your cheeks keep going, multiple inches long. Even your arms and legs start growing their own fur, with dense black hairs across your forearms and crawling out of the backs of your hands. Your belly adds another few inches as it starts to hang fully over your waistline. You let out a thunderous belch as you sink further into the chair, rubbing your hairy belly as your shirt rides up on it.

A few minutes later your stomach growls again. It just won’t give up today. With some significant effort you hoist yourself to your (now larger) feet and head back to the kitchen. There’s still quite a few cookies sitting out, and right as you look at them your stomach rumbles. You swipe two and cram them down your gullet. Your thickening fingers make them look small, so eating two isn’t a big deal. Immediately your gut springs forward another inch, the hair on it thickening and growing longer. The hair in the center of your chest thickens, hairs curling together as your beard reaches down towards them, pushing out longer and longer. Your hairline begins to inch back, revealing more of your forehead as you scratch at it, oblivious to the changes. This isn’t the only thing adding years to you though, as the black hairs in your beard one by one start to lose their color. The bright white spreads through your bushy beard and mustache, both of which are still pushing out of your face, and spreads up to what little remains on top of your head as male pattern baldness accelerates. You eat another couple cookies, absolutely cramming them into your mouth to try and satisfy your body. Crumbs go everywhere, getting trapped in your thick beard and falling into the rug of hair coating your chest. As soon as the crumbs touch the hairs they too go white, the bleaching effect spreading across your moobs and belly. Your gut continues to grow larger and larger, fat piling on as you finish off the last of the cookies. With a final belch the rest of the fur across your body turns white and your beard shoots out another inch. You really do look like Santa now, just in time for the holidays.

Request: Could you beef this man up into a total muscle daddy?

Caleb couldn’t help but scrunch up his face in disgust when he overheard the gay couple cooing sugary things to one another. The football-playing stud didn’t have a problem with gay guys whatsoever, but he found it disgusting when the thinner one referred to the other as “Daddy”.

“Disgusting,” he muttered under his breath as he walked into the bathroom, unaware of the mischievous glares from the gay couple.

Caleb sauntered into the bathroom and did his business. As he was washing his hands, he looked up into the mirror and couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride that blossomed in his chest at the serious gains he’d made. He straightened up and snapped a picture to post onto his Instagram, making sure to flex a large bicep.

He posted the picture and before he knew what he was doing, tagged it with #Daddy.

“What the hell?” he grunted as he posted the picture, unsure why he’d just done that. He deleted the picture and snapped another one, this one with him making sure to puff out his chest a little bit to show off his chiseled pecs.

When he posted it, this time as if his thumbs were possessed, he tagged it with #MuscleDaddy and #DaddyAF.

“What the fuck is going on?” Caleb roared as he tried to edit the tags, but his thumbs would not cooperate. In a frustrated huff, he tossed his phone down onto the counter of the bathroom sink and splashed some water on his face. However, his stomach dropped when he felt something completely wrong.

In a flash, Caleb rubbed the water away from his eyes and stared into the mirror, his jaw dropping as he watched dark stubble grow at a rapid rate along his previously smooth jaw. He was in shock and awe as he watched the dark hair take over, but his focus soon shifted when his chest started to itch. He absentmindedly scratched at it, wincing when he saw tuffs of chest hair starting to sprout and curl over the collar of his shirt.

“Holy shit!” he boomed in a deeper sounding voice when he witnessed his muscles starting to inflate. His biceps bulged even further underneath a dense forest of hair and the seams on his jeans struggled to contain his widening thighs and ass that bubbled out even more. The front of his jeans bulged outwards as he felt his cock lengthen and start to plump up. In his panicked state of mind, Caleb struggled to unzip the tightening pants, unleashing the now ten inch cock that was almost as thick as a beer can.

He was speechless as his body continued to change, but the worst had yet to come.

“No!” Caleb cried when he saw his gut starting to push outwards. The stud had prided himself on his chiseled abs which he’d always shown off online. However, his gut continued to inflate and round out in front of him. His tight t-shirt sprung upwards and rested on top of the protruding hairy tummy, unable to shield it from view. Caleb poked at it, a little relieved that it seemed to be solid, more akin to a roidgut than just fat. Even his pecs puffed out and inflated so much that they rested on his new gut, his nipples enlarging to poke conspicuously against the straining fabric of his shirt.

RIIPPPP!

Caleb’s broadening, hairy back tore the t-shirt to shreds, and the shocked inflated stud was forced to stare at his beefy new body. His hairy gut protruded out in front of him and his pecs and nipples were so large that no shirt would ever be able to conceal them.

He whimpered when he saw crow’s feet starting to form near his eyes, and a few of the hairs on his new beard turned gray, illustrating the many years that the stud had just had sucked away.

“Wh-what the fuck happened to me?” Caleb bellowed in his deeper voice as he examined his beefy, older body. Unwanted, hairy bulk kept rubbing up against itself as he moved, and the hunk couldn’t see anything but inflated pecs and his large musclegut whenever he glanced downwards. His large thighs rolled around each other as he tried to walk, his gait resembling something like a waddle.

The bathroom door opened up and the thin gay guy from earlier walked in, running his eyes up and down Caleb’s inflated form.

“Well hey there, Daddy,” he teased, giving Caleb a knowing wink.

At the name, Caleb’s giant cock twitched to life, and the new bear blushed as his ten inches stood out in front of him. He was only able to know this by looking in the mirror since his gut blocked its view from above. “Wh-what did you call me?” Caleb stuttered, his heart racing in his inflated chest as his eyes ran up and down the younger man’s form.

The guy giggled and walked up to the beefy muscle daddy, running an admiring hand up and down the protruding gut that was evidently sensitive too. “I called you, ‘Daddy’,” he whispered.

Celeb shuddered as the smaller guy’s fingers ran through his thick chest hair, and his cock twitched with want as a small bead of precum started to leak out.

“Let’s head to my place and I’ll take care of that for you, Daddy.”

The other guy managed to tuck Caleb’s monster cock back into his pants and zipped up the front. Caleb looked back at his reflection and winced as it looked as if he were smuggling a cucumber in his pocket. He was too shocked to say anything and was so focused on the way his beefy chest fluttered when the guy took him by the hand and led him out of the bathroom.

When he finally snapped back to his senses, Caleb blushed furiously as he realized that he was walking (or waddling) hand-in-hand with a much younger looking and thinner guy. Worse was that his new inflated form was on full display to the other people who were walking around, all of them getting a full view of his musclegut and pillow-like pecs that were capped off with nubby nipples. He knew that something horrible had happened to him, that he was supposed to be the 21 year old straight jock who had a muscular and toned body. He wasn’t supposed to be some older musclebear who showed off his thick, hairy chest everywhere he went because no shirt could ever fit over it.

But he couldn’t deny how turned on he was by the immense weight of his gut and pecs pulling on his front, and by the way his bulky arms rested on his flaring lats. And even the wind blowing across his dense chest hair sent a shock of pleasure through him, making his thick cock throb and a large wet mark appear on the front of his jeans.

“Doing okay, Daddy?” his younger companion asked, patting his musclegut reassuringly.

Caleb shuddered again and wrapped a large arm around the other man’s thin shoulders, feeling a protective contentment as the man’s smaller body was pressed against his hairy bulk.

“Daddy’s doin’ just fine, Baby,” Caleb playfully growled.

Beary Blast

What better follow up to a smooth surfer TF than a vape triggered bearification-

Also thank you to everyone who voted in my 1,500 follower poll, probably going to go ahead and get the top two stories out next week! Best and Enjoy! -Occam

Jeremiah was a delivery driver currently on the way to his last stop of the day. He got permission to just head straight on home afterwards so he can get up early and open tomorrow, which is to say he’s looking forward to what little hours he can get to himself before returning to the endless grind once more. The last customer was in the ritzy part of town, some guy who put his name down as “Mr. A,” Jerry just rolled his eyes hoping it’ll just be an in and out job, knowing how richies can go either way.

Parking his truck on the curb Jeremiah made his way to the door, walking up a manicured sidewalk past a porch swing to knock on the door. No bell or anything, just a door knocker shaped like a bear, Jerry shakes his head and slightly grimaces before using the knocker. After almost no time at all there is a massive shadow behind the door and it promptly opens, standing there is the largest man Jerry has ever seen. In every sense of the word. Jerry’s not short but as he looks up to the behemoth of the man he’s never felt smaller. He would be beyond intimidated were it not for the unmistakable kindness in his eyes peeking out above his beyond dense beard.

Jerry can’t help but stare for a few seconds before remembering himself, “uuuh Delivery?” He then tackles on a quick and quiet apology for gawking, “so sorry” Mr. A puts his large hands on his waist letting loose a deep laugh. The bass vibrates in Jerry’s bones as he makes a point not to stare once more at the hair peeking out the neckline of the robe as it hugs his large powerful curves. He holds out the pizza, hands shaking slightly from meekness at standing opposite this titanic man. Mr. A grabs for it, neglecting to hold his robe as it spills open, letting Jerry see the tight boxers previously hidden, and the package barely concealed within. 

Jeremiah wasn’t gay but this isn’t the first time he’s been moved by a man. Though by the near total loss of function in the face of Mr. A, perhaps it’s time to reconsider a thing or two. For the first time the bear of a man speaks up, “Thank ya kid. OH! Y’know what I’ve got somethin’ for ya, tips on the card but, do you vape?” Jerry sheepishly nods as the man turns to rummage for something in a desk, blasting a smell of expensive cologne and cigar smoke out the door as his robe flies behind him. Jerry’s almost shocked at the speed with which the mammoth moves, though he strains not to think too much of the man lest he totally lose composure. 

Within a minute Mr. A returns, robe now cinched and hugging his form, which causes no less a blush on the delivery driver’s face. He holds out his hand with what must be a vape completely hidden in his meaty palm. Jerry reaches out, getting within an inch of the hairy mitt and retrieves the vape, not a brand he’s familiar with though he certainly is not one to complain at any act of kindness, let alone one from this, uh, hunk. Mr. A beams down as he explains the frankly bizarre handoff, “Yeah one of my, uh, cubs gave it to me. Must’ve thought it was cute that it’s ‘Beary Blast’ flavored, hah! But I stick to cigars, don’t wanna go crazy with the stuff y’know,” 

Jerry finds himself politely nodding along in agreement, keeping mum, unaware of just how submissive his eyes are as they stare up at the man. After exchanging a few more pleasantries Jerry remembers that he’s off the clock now and bids farewell before struggles to walk without making it obvious that he had started chubbing from his all too short time spent at Mr. A’s doorstep. The bear watches to ensure he makes it to his car with no trouble and nods before heading back inside.

Jeremiah rubs his face hard for a few full seconds, shocked and a little uncomfortable at how totally absorbed he was by the bear. Opening his eyes to see the gifted vape in his lap he immediately takes a massive hit, he isn’t all that much of a vaper, but even more so he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The horse metaphor brings his  mind reeling back to seeing Mr. A’s cock through his boxers as he continues drawing on the vape until it blinks and he no longer can. He sits and exhales, releasing burning cool fumes of Beary Blast that immediately fill the car as if he were hot boxing. The clouds dissipate quickly enough but the fumes continue to stick around, every ongoing breath just a wisp of Beary Blast infuses itself into his lungs.

Even so, Jerry finds the taste far too alluring to persist on whatever dregs remain in the air, what with the source so readily available. The nigh obsession he had felt standing in the shadow of Mr. A fades from his mind as nothing is, nor perhaps ever has been, more singularly important than chain hitting this vape. Really he shouldn’t be driving given how difficult it is to focus on anything besides the buzz, the pleasure, that each breath of this ichorous vape holds. Minutes pass as he drives towards his home and just after yielding to temperance to put the vape down, he notices a strange itch in his crotch as he pulls up to a stop light.

His mother always tried to hammer into his head to never scratch an itch, but in the privacy of his own car how could he not. He nervously double checks that no other driver has a sightline before stuffing his hand in his work pants and scratching like a dog. Jerry does a double take as he immediately finds that his pubes seem to have grown at a far faster rate than they usually do. He’s not seeing anyone at the moment, but he usually keeps it smooth down there in case any chicks call him up, at the moment though it feels like he hasn’t shaved in a week or two? He furrows his brow trying to remember how it looked down there this morning, continuing to scratch he doesn’t notice as they begin to grow even thicker. Before the stoplight even turns green his once clean shaven crotch now holds a bush that looks as if it hadn’t been groomed since it first started to grow.

As the light changes he jolts in his seat and starts the drive once more, gritting his teeth slightly as the itch begins to travel up above his waistline. He rolls his eyes hearing a voice in his head repeat that scratching only makes it worse, though as the itching begins to turn to a slight burn as it spreads up to his belly button and beyond he wonders if there is any other option. He takes another massive hit of the Beary Blast vape before reaching under his shirt to get at the expanding itch rising across his stomach. 

His body physically jerks in shock as he feels the tickle of hairs over his abs. Not a day in his life has he been able to grow any body hair, no one in his family can. As he rubs his stomach, dragging his nails across it’s tight skin, longing to find the smooth torso he has always had, the treasure trail inching up from his pubes is impossible to deny. Adrenaline begins to rise in his chest from the shock and his heart races, his fingers trace up to his chest and he finds hair beginning to prickle in the center of his chest. Jeremiah pulls over to the side of the road, concerned that he might be losing his mind, putting his car in park however the only thought able to overcome the din, is ‘fuck, I need another hit.”

Jerry shoves his hand back in his pants as looks for where he threw the vape in his car amidst whatever this episode is. He feels his pubes thicken and curl as he scans the floorboard, pointedly not noticing as hair starts to spread beyond the center of his chest and towards his nipples. Nor is he aware of the weight that is slowly starting to amass on his arms and pecs. He’s always been fit, though not one to go out of his way to put on muscle. As he searches his dash the pecs he is impossibly starting to develop suggest otherwise. Jeremiah does notice the uniform starting to pull on his chest in a new fashion as he squirms about the driver's seat looking for the gift bestowed by Mr. A. 

His right hand is still planted in his crotch digging through a jungle before he moves lower and he starts to scratch at his balls, causing two revelations at once. His eyes dart down as without a doubt in his mind he knows they are larger than they should be. He shifts his weight to confirm, moving to cup them which sends a surge of pleasure through him as both his balls and his cock surge larger in his pants, straining his already tight underwear.

Moaning to himself from the impossible pleasure of this moment, his surging cock pushes his hand into the second conclusion, the vape had been resting squarely under his package. Jeremiah stretches his neck to look past his chest, still not noticing its growth as his nipples make themselves apparent in the tight shirt and his free hand lances past the weightier crotch for the vape. Without a second thought it is in his mouth once more, the hard plastic carries a scent from its short time hiding beneath his balls, though it is nothing compared to the sheer captivation of his vape as he indeed takes another hit.

Before this sleepless nightmare his underarms had always been carefully groomed as one of the two places it was even possible for him to grow body hair. As he continues inhaling though, his thin trimmed bushes of put hair burst beyond the boundaries where they have always been contained. Hair stretches long and far out of his pits and it becomes clear that its expansion is not to stop here. Similarly he feels a tickle on his face, causing him to smirk as he continues to inhale, as for the first time in his life, he’s finally able to grow a beard. A mustache bursts out of his upper lip and he drops the vape once more as he rubs his face to feel stubble quickly shadow and encompass the entire lower half of his face. Pleasure begins to overwhelm him as between the beyond 5’oclock shadow and the still expanding bulge there are some definite upside in whatever impossible horror is happening to him.

As he starts to paw at his crotch over his work pants his hand bumps the wheel and dream or not he decides he cannot just masturbate in public. He shifts to drive away as his body continues to demand attention and grow larger. He discards his shirt as he hears the first tear of his sleeves alert him to just how tight his uniform has become. His biceps grow to a size that require constant time at the gym as hair begins to pepper them, thickening from his wrists up the whole of his forearm before crossing his elbows and launching a campaign towards his shoulders. The hair from his pits grows towards the hair on his chest as it blasts past his nipples. The thick trail on his chest discontented with remaining so confined spreads to encompass the whole of his stomach creating a rug that would evermore hide his abs. Though as his pecs and arms continue to grow he notices not as his stomach begins to press into his seatbelt, his strength similarly expands as muscle and fat begin to pile onto his waist.

His hands flex on the steering wheel as pressure continues to build in his balls, demanding immediate satisfaction. He struggles to keep attention on the road as his thighs begin to grow to strain his work pants. He adjusts in his seat to absolve the tightness in his crotch, only causing it to grow more intense as his ass takes this chance to fill out the seat of his pants. This leaves him sitting higher despite gaining no height as his ass expands into a cushion that would fill any top with desire. He shakes his head as he speeds down the road, unsure why such an idea popped into his head, and after what feels like an eternity in his mind he arrives at his apartment, gritting his teeth not to just lose it right there as he stumbles out of his car.

Jeremiah pockets the vape, unaware as it too begins to change, lengthening as the hard plastic gives way to expensive tobacco leaf as the fluid within returns to a less synthetic form. Each step towards his door grows heavier as the weight he carries continues to pile on, muscles expand, his grunts grow deeper, his stomach bloats outward now free from its confines, and his cock grows thicker as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other. The friction of his pants struggling to hold it together almost makes him cum right there, so close to the finish line. Barely scraping past this ultimate trial he reaches out towards the door handle as hair trickles further down his hand and he turns the knob before falling inside and slamming it shut.

Inside his home he rips at his pants eager to free his cock from the confines, as in the open air of his home all the hair on his body grows darker and thicker. Hair growing on his ass tickles the floor as it expands up his back and crests over his shoulders to meet the blanket of chest hair as it races towards his neck. The hair in his pits spreads likewise to create a hemisphere of hair around his nipples, as his body wants nothing more than to display just how virile, how powerfully masculine he is. The hair on his face leaves the idea of stubble behind as it thickens and expands into an impressive beard that juts well beyond his jaw as weight makes itself evident on his face.

Jeremiah lays there, convulsing his impossibly warm body  on the cold floor, struggling to take in all the pleasure that this new body holds. Scratching up and down his torso and feeling the power and appeal within. He humps the air as he loses control without even touching his cock, staring at it as with each pulse he feels more himself than he ever has before. He watches as his pubes extend onto his thighs and darken them with forests that soon stain the entirety of his legs. Across his form his pelt thickens enough to completely hide the skin beneath. He gasps lying in the aftershock of the first of many releases he shall enjoy in the new life he is suddenly resolved to live. Reposing in the small entrance of his apartment as behind him it changes to erase the life once lived of this pizza delivery man, he sees in the pocket of his discarded pants where there once was a vape there now lies a large cigar.

Before the image reaches his conscious mind he is already reaching for the stogie to light it up. Neglecting to care about smoking inside, he sets it aflame and gives the cigar a large puff. The feeling of the large stogie in his mouth brings him an inner warmth that swiftly spreads throughout his body. He feels the pleasure of the smoke in his mouth glide through him as his body continues to grow. His stomach bloats large enough that his pecs don’t hang out so  much as rest on his powerful gut. His massive arms lose a tad of the apparently hard earned definition but grow strength that he never dreamed he could have attained. While the massive beard on his face surges even further out making it evident the powerful jaw beneath will never see the light again  as a few white hairs begin to pepper it.

Jeremiah moves off the floor, grunting with the effort of getting his drastically larger form off the floor and grumbling under his breath as he continues to mouth the cigar. The smell of smoke alongside his own sweaty body odor quickly brings his focus back to his cock as it stands to attention in its own way. He smirks as his eyes drift between the cigar lolling in his mouth and his cock as it continues bob larger in the air. Before he’s able to act on his ever-demanding cock he hears his phone chime. He grunts and his voice deepens even further as he reaches to see who’s calling, though as he sees the ID he smirks and answers, “Yello there boss.” He rumbles out in a voice that would drive any twink to their knees.

Who else could respond but the man who started this chain of events. Back in his home Mr. A is pawing his own crotch at the sound of Jeremiah’s voice, just picturing the growth that must have occurred. The man grunts as he responds, “Hey there ki- urgh, not quite a kid any more are ya,” loosing a large guffaw before continuing, “know you just up and left my place Jer, would ya mind comin’ on back now though? Got a proposition that you’d hate to miss out on if ya know what I mean.” For his part Jeremiah is already on his way back to the car, throwing on an expensive robe and nothing else as he breaks out the door. Though he remembers not the life he once lived it would be impossible to forget the mark on his psyche from standing there completely dwarfed by Mr. A, though this time something inside of him suggests that he will not be nearly as sheepish in his lust. In fact he’s got something in mind that will ensure that both of them walk away with a limp as he smirks and starts his way back to that place where he truly became a man.