Sunday, September 28, 2014

Mack - Chapter Four

Chapter 4
Mack and Sam talked more as their journey continued. It helped to pass the time; even Sam's book and Mack's iPod and Gameboy got tiresome after awhile. It was around three in the afternoon when the bus pulled into a station. They would change buses here. Mack put on his coat so it would be fewer things for him to carry in. Sam seemed to travel lighter, he didn't even have a suitcase; the only clothes he seemed to have were the ones he was wearing.
They were somewhere in Oklahoma City at the bus terminal, Mack and Sam headed inside. Sam's cell rang and he said he'd meet Mack inside in the café. Sam stood outside, talking on his phone. Mack walked into the terminal, looking for which bay held the bus to LA and Bakersfield.
Inside the terminal, a wiry, somewhat seedy looking man with ash brown hair, a thin mousy brown mustache, and a couple days worth of stubble was looking through the group of new arrivals through hazel eyes. He was sizing them up, seeing which would be an easy mark. There were several women who looked like easy prey, but Chris Smart preferred to follow a young man into the bathroom and rob them when their pants were down; literally. Chris had been doing this in various bus terminals in other cities in Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Colorado and Arkansas. He had scored quite a bit, stealing identities and using their credit cards. Often they had cash, too. Terminals like these were easy. Security was usually not that great; people traveling by bus or train usually didn't have as much money, but they were far more vulnerable than those at airports. Chris was too smart to go after someone there. A few credit cards and a wallet full of cash wasn't worth being nailed as a terrorist. Bus terminals were the best; all he had to do was hang out for a day or so to learn the rhythms and see how lax the security was. This one had an elderly guy who was pretty strict, but he watched the lobby during the graveyard shift. At the moment, some love struck kid had the shift and he was at this moment in the café trying to get in one of the waitress' pants. This meant that now would be a good time to look for potential victims.
Chris waited until his mark went to the bathroom; if the place was empty and the mark was using a urinal, he'd put a knife to his throat while he took his wallet. He would pull the guy's pants down, push him over and before the victim could recover he'd be gone. Sometimes Chris kicked in the stall door and, using their surprise to his advantage, point a knife in their face and demand their valuables.
The scruffy looking kid with the goatee who just came off the bus didn't look all that vulnerable, but he was alone, and he guarded that backpack just a little too well. Chris figured that any valuables he might have were in it, but he checked out his rear just to be sure. The kid didn't have the bulge of a wallet in his back pocket; it must be in the backpack not the suitcase. The way the kid held the small soft-sided suitcase told Christ that there wasn't anything in there worth stealing. Chris followed him into the bathroom and sure enough, the kid went into a stall. Chris took the stall next to his and waited. Most of the men in the bathroom, Chris knew, would use the urinals and be gone in few moments. Some of the guys coming off these buses, like this kid, spent awhile in the stalls, taking a long dump or jacking off or better still, both. This meant that those who might also be using the stalls would be in the middle of something during his attack and those that just had to take a piss would be long gone, probably in the nearest food vendor or on a telephone. Chris knew better than to try this kind of thing when there was more than a couple of buses arriving at the same time as there would be too many men using the restroom.
Chris waited and sure enough, the crowd in the restroom thinned out and left. Chris waited a little longer for stragglers, but none came in. He made noises like he was wiping and buckled up, flushed and left. Just outside the door, Chris paused and looked around. No one was headed toward the bathroom, the lobby was generally clear, lover boy with the security badge was still trying to get some action and other than his mark in the bathroom, it was empty. Perfect!
Wasting no time, Chris went back into the men's room and stopped outside of the stall. He raised a foot and kicked hard. The door was weak and caved in easily, much more easily than Chris had expected. It usually took twice before the door buckled and gave way.
Inside the stall, Mack was cleaning himself. He looked up, at first shocked. The intruder seemed to know exactly what he was after. He broke in, scanned the stall and took the backpack while Mack had just managed to shout in indignation.
The thief pointed a blade at Mack's chest and said, "Stick your legs out straight in front of you!" Mack hesitated and the thief moved the knife toward Mack's throat and repeated his demand. Mack glared at him, then complied. The thief then pulled the waistband of the jeans and underwear down, turning the legs inside out until Mack's feet were inside the jeans. He grabbed a long cable zip tie from his pants pocket, this was something new he was trying and hoped it would work. He handed it to the kid and put the knife point right at his Adam's apple.
"Put it around your ankles and zip it up and you won't get hurt, get it?" Chris hissed and moved the knife to the side of the kid's throat to allow him to follow the order.
Mack angrily complied.
Chris knew the kid would be too embarrassed to hop out naked into the lobby after him and that it would take him the better part of a minute to get a pocket knife out to cut the cable tie. He'd be out the door by then.
"Nice doin' business with ya!" Chris laughed.
The thief, having grabbed the backpack and temporarily immobilizing his victim, now made a quick move to the exit. He reached the restroom door, the kid yelling obscenities after him and trying to free himself. Chris opened the door quietly, putting the knife in his pocket, and looked out into the lobby. No one was between him and the exit, in fact the lobby was empty except for people on the phone and they weren't paying attention to the yells coming from the bathroom. The homeless came into the terminal to use the bathrooms and it wasn't unusual for some of the less mentally stable to yell and carry on in the bathroom. Chris moved quickly to the lobby doors and made his way out.
From out of nowhere a huge hand grabbed his shoulder as he quickly rounded the corner into a side alley. The hand swiftly pulled him into a half nelson hold, another leather clad arm wrapped around his throat. The voice was calm, icy cold, and deep. "Drop the pack and I won't break your scrawny little neck."
"Let me go, fucker!" Chris managed to squeak out.
"Drop it or I'll gut you, right here on the street. " The voice said and now there was a deeper tone to it and a very low growl followed the command. The grip around Chris' neck tightened and he could feel the blood being cut off.
Chris reached for the knife in his pocket.
"Not a good idea." The deepening voice said coldly. Almost conversationally it continued, "You couldn't stick me fast enough before I snapped your neck." The pressure increased.
Seeing that he was getting nowhere, and that this guy was probably insane enough to do just what he suggested; Chris removed his hand from his pocket slowly, without the knife.
Chris raised his hand in full view of the ape that had a choke hold on his throat and a tight grip on his arm and was firmly pushing up on it behind his back. He grabbed the shoulder strap of the pack and dropped the pack gently to the ground. Immediately the grip was released and he was shoved away, sending him tumbling to the ground. Chris turned to see a huge bearded man dressed like a biker scooping up the backpack. The guy had to be four feet across at the shoulder and at least seven and a half feet tall, his fear magnifying the biker's size. He looked mean too, and even if he wasn't as big as Chris' fear made him, he was more than big enough. Chris decided to cut his losses and make a run for it.
"Now get the fuck out of here before I decide to make you my special project," the huge man said in no more than a normal speaking voice.
Chris stumbled to his feet and ran, rubbing his bruised throat.
By the time Mack had managed to get himself free and put his clothes back in order so that he could go after the thief he was sure the guy was many blocks away. He rushed out of the bathroom, his suitcase in hand, only to find Sam standing there, holding his backpack.
"I think ya lost somethin'?" Sam said with a huge grin on his face.
He handed the backpack to the young man. Mack took the pack and impulsively grabbed Sam around the middle as far around as he could reach and gave him a tight hug.
"Thanks, man!" Mack said and Sam wrapped his huge arms around the young man and hugged him back.
"My pleasure," Sam replied.
With his nose so close to Sam's chest, he took in the big man's scent. There was that musky 'animal' scent again, mixed with the smell of unwashed male. The undertone scent seemed stronger, but oddly for a young man who'd never made love with another man, he found the musky male scent sent excited chills down his spine that went straight to his balls and made them tingle. Mack was getting hard and moved to break the hug strategically, yet casually, moving the pack between his crotch and Sam's eyes long enough so that his erection could subside.
Sam released Mack from the embrace and Mack looked up into the big man's face. Sam was only about a foot taller than Mack, but at this moment, he seemed like a giant, a god, a savior who had just found Mack's dignity and returned it to him.
"How…?" Mack began and Sam cut him off.
"I caught the guy as he was runnin' out the door. I saw him from the outside makin' a B-line for the doors an' saw he had your backpack. I stepped over behind the brickwork so he couldn't see me an' waited. He wasn't too reluctant when I asked him nicely for it."
Sam smiled innocently though his bushy mustache, his white teeth gleaming.
"Look, Mack, I think it would be best if I rented a car an' you an' I head out to Flagstaff so I can pick up my scoot instead of riding the dog any more. Then you can ride out to Bakersfield sittin' behind me… there's nothin' like seein' the country on a hawg." Sam said merrily.
"I dunno, shouldn't we file a police report or something?" Mack said.
"On that guy?" Sam asked with a little laugh, "Why? He's an amateur, he almost got caught this time an' he'll probably be caught soon enough."
"But..." Mack began and Sam cut him off.
"Look, I really don't wanna delay my trip by sitting in a police station filling out reports. Do you? They won't do anything much anyway, you got your pack back, and he's probably not going to try ta do that again soon; an' if he does, he's someone else's problem. He's probably crawled back under whatever rock he came from by now. Forget about him. Look, come with me! A car is gonna be a whole lot more comfortable than that bus." Sam said.
"Sam, we just met yesterday, I hardly know you." Mack said.
"Yeah? Well actually we met about twenty years ago, Mack. Had a piece of your birthday cake, watched you blow out the candle. If I remember right, the cake hand clowns on it. I remember it was chocolate with cherry cream filling. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I remember you. I'm very good friends with your Uncle Russ, real good friends." Sam said. "I'm gonna cut through the cloak and dagger stuff, here's my proof."
Sam took out the cell phone and dialed a number. He waited and then said, "Hey Russ, it's Sam. Look, Mack here is kinda reluctant to ride with me an' I suppose that's to be expected." there was a pause as Sam listened, "No, we're not in Amarillo. Oklahoma City, I'll explain later when we have time to talk. Here, I'm putting Mack on, tell him I'm on the up an' up, OK?" There was another pause, "Yeah, it'll make our trip faster an' more comfortable. Tell him about the birthday, when you an' your homophobic brother were still talkin', right before your dad died."
Sam handed the phone to Mack and sure enough, his Uncle Russ answered.
"Hey Mack!" Russ' cheerful voice came through the phone.
"Hi, Uncle Russ."
"Look, Mack, you can trust Sam. He was with me when I visited you on your third birthday, but you probably don't remember. He looked different then too, clean shaved, short hair and in a black business suit." Russ said and Mack searched his memory. He vaguely remembered a large man in a dark suit, but always thought that was another uncle, one of his mom's brothers. His mom's side were better off than his dad's, his Uncle Richard owned his own successful medical practice. He was used to seeing his mom's brothers dressed up.
"I asked Sam if he wouldn't mind traveling with you out to California when I knew you were coming. He was back east and agreed to come out with you." Russ said.
"Why?" Mack asked.
"Because I thought it might be best. I love you Mack, you're my favorite nephew, I wanted someone watching over you. Sam thought it was a good idea too." Russ said. "Are you OK with that, Mack? Sam will take good care of you."
"Yeah… Yeah, I'm OK with that… you both were doing what you thought was right." Mack said. “But...”
"Look, Mack, I've gotta run. I'll see you when you get here, OK?" Russ said.
"Yeah, OK, Uncle Russ." Mack said.
"I love you Mack, remember that. Now, I gotta go, g'bye." Russ said.
"OK, I will, g'bye." Mack said and the phone disconnected.
Mack handed the phone back to Sam.
"See, Mack, I'm really not a stranger. You're uncle cares a lot about you an' I was literally in the neighborhood. I gave him a call from Virginia 'bout the time you told him you were comin' out on the bus an' he asked me if I'd keep an eye on you," Sam said
"Look, I don't need protection. I'm not a kid anymore," Mack said and Sam could tell he was hurt.
"I know you are. You're a grown man, goatee an' all with a couple days scruff on your face too, but even a combat veteran needs a buddy to watch his back in a fight. It's not that your uncle doesn't think you're a man. Russ figured I was big enough to discourage anyone from muggin' you. That punk who stole your pack is the kind of thing I'm here for. I'm your buddy, I'm here ta make your trip easier." Sam smiled a big toothy smile.
"Oh, but you don't need an escort?" Mack said and the illogic of what he'd just said was obvious even to him.
Sam replied tolerantly,"No, not usually; most people give me a wide path an' those that don't are either my friends, stupid, or they've got a whole lot of tough to back them up. That guy who stole your pack was probably waitin' for someone like you. He was waitin' for someone a little younger than he was, who looked inexperienced. An' right now, that's how you look to predators. They figure if they can get you alone, they can take you. Trust me, if he'd harmed you, I'd be hunting him now. He might end up in a hole somewhere where no one's gonna find him until they do archaeological digs on early twenty first century trash heaps. Course, there are other things I could do so's they wouldn't even find bits of him," Sam said and his voice was soft, calm and beautifully resonant; it held patience; great, respectful patience. There was not a hint of malice or anger in his voice as he talked of these things in a matter-of-fact way; but his eyes were hard and cold and there was a flatness in them that Mack had not seen; and it made his blood run cold for a moment.
Mack realized Sam was more than what he looked like. He slowly realized that Sam could be a killer. Something on par with a Green Beret or Navy Seal; not a hit man, because his vibe just now was very definitely 'commando' not mob enforcer. Sam was hard core; but hard core what? Mack wanted to withdraw his protest at being escorted. Of course this bearish man didn't need an escort, he was the sort of man which other people needed an armed escort to protect them from.
Sam's face softened as he watched the realization of what he potentially was cross Mack's face. The boy was quick. Less than two days and Mack was already making some good guesses about Sam's real nature. How long would it be before Mack realized something a little more basic about him? He would let Mack solve that for himself, even if it was pretty obvious. Perhaps the kid didn't think bearded hulking macho men were capable of that? No, he probably suspected nothing, yet. The macho men he'd been exposed to all his life probably weren't. Then of course, there was the final matter of Sam's truest nature, but by the time Mack discovered that, it most likely wouldn't make any difference. It hadn't for his Uncle Russ and the kid was like his uncle was in his twenties. Sam had to be gentle; hitting Mack square across the face with truths about the nature of his huge traveling companion this soon might be just a bit too disturbing for one so young and relatively innocent, however much potential he had.
Mack, looking up into Sam's face, took stock of what he found there. He was handsome and he was smiling at him in a gentle, almost fatherly way. His eyes were once again warm and soft and Mack knew it was because, like his Uncle Russ, Sam cared a lot about him. Sam might be an efficient killer, possibly a war vet of some sort, but he was a guardian and Mack had no doubts that Sam would do what was necessary to protect him.
"I guess I need a bodyguard after all. That was pretty stupid of me back there," Mack said He felt Sam's huge warm hand on his shoulder.
"Ah, don't worry. Its just inexperience. You'll catch on quick." Sam removed his hand and patted Mack's shoulder before returning his arm to his side. "I'm here to see that you get the chance to become the kind of man people give wide berth to. For now, though, there are people who are too stupid, too crazy or too drugged to care if they kill ya ta get what they want. The world's a wonderful an' dangerous place, boy. Let me an' Russ help you smooth out some of those bumps on the road 'til you can do it for yourself, OK?" Sam gently squeezed Mack's shoulder again.
"OK,” Mack said and smiled.
"I'll make you a deal; I'll watch your back an' you watch mine, ok?" Sam said. Mack smiled at the ridiculousness of the statement.
"OK, deal," Mack said with a smile and squared his shoulders.
"Buddies?" Sam said and he play punched Mack in the shoulder.
"Yeah, buddies. And I'll watch your back; though I don't think you need it watched too often," Mack said, voicing his thought at Sam's offer.
"You'd be surprised; when I get really drunk I sometimes need someone to keep an eye out for me," Sam said and winked. "All right. Well, let's forget about the bus an' go get a nice luxurious car. There's no need spendin' any more time tryin' ta gain your confidence; I think I already have it, don't I?" Sam said and chuckled.
"Yeah, I trust you. No sense in sitting and sleeping in those small seats anymore," Mack said.
"That's m'boy! Luxury when you can get it, right? Let's get the car an' then I'm in the mood for some really good food. We'll have to look around for a good restaurant," Sam said and picked up Mack's suitcase. Mack shouldered his backpack and the pair left the terminal in search of a car rental place.

Mack - Chapter Three

Chapter 3
On the third day of his journey, as he was napping with his earphones plugged into his iPod, Mack was dreaming. He was sitting at his computer and exploring a new system he'd hacked into. He'd always had a fascination for computer networks and systems design. It was almost like he could feel how a programmer had constructed a system. He was just at the point of understanding where this particular programmer had concealed his back doors when he felt someone sit in the seat next to him. He opened his eyes to see an incredibly large broad-shouldered man adjusting the seat next to his. This made Mack a bit nervous; the man not only was really large, he was dressed in kind of worn clothes and Mack wondered if some bum had scraped enough money together to buy a bus ticket. Mack, up until this point, hadn't had another passenger sit next to him and was not too pleased to have one now.
The bus had been empty enough so that people were spread out, but as Mack looked around he noticed the bus was now close to full. The last stop that he remembered was somewhere in north Alabama; this stop was in St. Louis, Missouri.
Mack was sizing up the new passengers, always careful to look for potential trouble, when his thoughts were interrupted.
"Mornin'!" the huge man next to him said and extended what could only be called a 'paw' due to it's size and the amount of hair on the back of it, "The name's Sam, Sam Adams, just like the beer!" The man laughed; his green-gray eyes even in the dim light of the bus twinkling merrily.
"Or President John Adams cousin, right?" Mack said, carefully taking the proffered hand. Sam's huge warm paw closed over Mack's hand enveloping it. Mack noticed a slight musky scent from Sam, not like he hadn't bathed in a week, but certainly like he hadn't bathed this morning. Mack's nose was far from offended; he liked men, real men, and male scent was part of that. Still, Sam had a sort of 'animal' smell about him and Mack guessed that he might have spent a couple of nights outside, sleeping with a friendly mutt for warmth.
"Right! Hey, you're a pretty smart! Yep, that Sam Adams was also a Governor of Massachusetts," Sam said with a deep chuckle. "How do you know so much about early American history?" he asked.
Mack smiled, "I paid attention in history class when we studied the Revolutionary War."
Sam laughed, "Yeah, they teach you a bit about the Revolutionary War, don't they?" he said and got a far away look in his eye for a moment. Sam sort of shook his head and came back from wherever he'd wandered in his thoughts.
"It's not many young men that pay attention to what they're being taught. You can learn a lot from history if you're paying attention. Trust me, I know," Sam said.
Sam's voice was pleasantly low and Mack though rather sexy, like Barry White if Barry White sounded like a big hairy white guy. The sound of his voice and the sincere and open manner he had was starting to turn Mack on.
Then there were his looks; his bushy brown beard hung down to his belly. His hair was long, down to his lower back and braided. He wore a black leather Oakland Raiders baseball cap and a black leather jacket that looked like it was at least as old as Mack was and as worn as his boots. His red and black plaid flannel shirt was so old it was threadbare and the colors had faded to a dark shade of pink and gray, but it looked warm and comfortable over his new black T-shirt. His jeans were faded, had holes in them and were tucked into his well-worn black engineer boots. The boots were scuffed but looked like they'd been resoled recently. Mack knew that good pair of boots to some men was like a good friend with which you wouldn't want to part. Sam's boots looked like tough old friends he'd known for decades.
Sam seemed to like to talk and it was odd, but Mack wanted to talk too, even though most of the time he wasn't much for conversation. Sam had a way about him that seemed to draw you into conversation. Part of it was that Sam didn't treat him like a kid who didn't know anything, like most men did when talking to someone just out of their teens. As the minutes stretched into a half-hour and a half-hour stretched into two hours, Sam talked quietly to Mack about everything from ancient history before the rise of Rome to the latest metal bands. Mack was surprised that a middle aged man who looked like Sam did would know so much about the tunes he was listening to or about computers or anything about pop culture.
Mack was amazed at all that Sam knew. He realized that Sam was not one of those guys who were stuck in his high school 'glory days', he wasn't like those men who bemoaned the passing of their football careers. The men who were living as if their senior year never ended, listening almost exclusively to the music that was the theme song of their late teens and early twenties.
Sam was savvy about many things. He wasn't 'hip'; indeed, if he tried to be like someone of Mack's age, it would look silly on Sam. What Sam was, was cool. He didn't just skim the surface on topics, he knew about them on deeper levels and that applied to the 'latest' things guys of Mack's age were into.
Sam had a really friendly way about him that was quickly winning Mack over. Despite his size and unapproachable looks, he made Mack feel comfortable and on top of all of that, Sam looked like a big, shaggy, shabby, teddy bear; at least he did now that Mack had gotten to know him.
Mack was yawning, it was 2 a.m. and Sam picked up on the young man's sleepiness. He suggested that it might be a good idea to stretch out as much as possible and catch some sleep. Sam adjusted his own seat and from the pocket of his jacket he pulled a paperback sci-fi novel.
"I'll just read for a bit." He said to Mack as he turned on an overhead light, "I'll wake you when we get to a food stop."
"Thanks!" Mack said though a yawn. He pulled his coat up to his neck, leaned back and put the earphones back in; soon he was asleep.
When Mack awoke he found he was leaning against Sam with his head against the big man's shoulder. His headphones were out and blaring music; he must have removed them in his sleep. Mack was embarrassed at his position and wanted to see if Sam was awake. He carefully turned his head so he could look up at Sam's face. Mack could barely see Sam's face through the bushy beard, but he managed to and fortunately, Sam was sleeping soundly. Mack was spared the embarrassment of explaining why he was 'cuddled up' to the big man. Sam with his book in his lap didn't stir when Mack lifted his head from the shoulder he was leaning on. He checked his watch, it was 5 a.m. and the bus was still on the road. Sam didn't actually snore, but his deep breathing had a little volume, like a kind of white noise; Mack found the steady rhythm and sound level comforting. Mack made himself comfortable in his seat, leaning against the window with his head propped with his jacket. He put the headphones back in and returned to dreaming.
It was 6:30 when Mack next woke; someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, Sam was saying something but he didn't catch it over the Brand New Sin playing in his ears. He turned the music off and said "What?"
Sam smiled through his bushy beard and mustache, "I said, we're at a rest stop, you wanna get somthin' ta eat?"
"Yeah, thanks!" Mack said. He was a bit groggy and had morning wood he didn't want Sam to see, but then thought that perhaps Sam might have seen anyway. Being that his coat, which usually covered his torso and lap, was being used for a pillow he guessed his erection might have been very visible to the bearish man.
"Well come on, we've only got an hour an' a half." Sam said in his deep resonant voice and began to get up.
"OK, I wanna put a couple of things away and then I'll be right there." Mack said.
Sam grunted in agreement, looked at Mack's lap and chuckled. "Yeah, put stuff away." Then he winked. He got up and proceeded down the aisle.
Mack needed a few minutes to adjust his cock so it wasn't obvious he was hard and to allow his embarrassed flush to disappear. He also needed to piss and thought it best to take care of that in the bus restroom.
Five minutes later Mack was off the bus and looking around. It was a small Midwestern town, he wasn't sure where and didn't much care. Most towns in the Midwest looked the same and had just about the same kinds of businesses. There was a diner across the street from the small bus terminal. He could see through the windows that Sam was inside the terminal using a cell phone.
Mack's stomach growled and he decided to try the diner where many of the passengers had already gone.
The place was called Joe's Diner, just like in all the old cartoons there was "Eat at Joe's" underneath the name. The place had a retro 50s feel to it, but Mack realized that the retro in this instance was more like original to the business, and not an attempt at nostalgia. It did look like the place had perhaps been spruced up within the last few years or so. Mack walked in and was shown to a booth. Not more than two minutes later Sam came in. Mack saw him come through the door and got his first good estimate at Sam's size; Sam almost filled the diner's chrome and glass door. Mack guessed Sam to be about six and a half feet tall as the door was probably a little under seven and Sam was a few inches under the top of the frame. Sam's shoulders must have been about three feet across because there wasn't much room on either side for the bearish man to get through. Sam ambled in with an easy unhurried gait and sat across from Mack just as the waitress arrived.
She pulled another menu from a nearby empty table and asked, "You fellas together or on separate tickets?"
Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, separate tickets. Could you bring me some coffee, strong an' black? How strong is the coffee?" Sam asked.
"We got two pots, one is for most folks and the other is strong enough to peel paint; it's for the truckers. Which would you like?"
"Give me the paint remover, please." Sam said and chuckled.
"And what would you like?" the waitress asked Mack.
"Coffee, cream and sugar please," Mack said. "…and not from the paint remover pot, please."
The waitress smiled. "I'll give you fellas a moment or two to look over the menu and I'll be back with the coffee."
They both looked over the menu; Sam grunted here and there as he looked over the choices for breakfast. Mack decided on pancakes, bacon and eggs almost immediately. It took Sam a moment or two longer and then he put down the menu. About that time the waitress arrived with the coffee.
"Are you ready to order?" She asked.
Sam indicated that Mack should go first and Mack placed his order.
"And what would you like, sir?" the waitress asked Sam.
"I'll have the five stack pancake breakfast with a double side of sausage an' I'd also like the hash browns, eggs an' bacon breakfast." Sam paused and smiled.
"Is there anything else you'd like?" the waitress asked and Mack could tell that she wasn't surprised that Sam was ordering two breakfasts. Men Sam's size probably did that on occasion.
"Yeah, I'd like the apple pie ala mode after, double scoop of French vanilla and whipped cream." Sam said and looked across the table at Mack with that same self-satisfied grin as if to say, 'Yeah, I can eat it all, you just wait and see.'
The waitress took the menus and left.
"Ya gotta put a lot of gas in the tank when you're as big as I am," Sam said to Mack and sipped his coffee.
"I guess so," Mack said, smiling.
"Well, a bear like me has'ta think about winter," Sam replied and winked, which made Mack laugh.
Before the meal arrived, Sam asked Mack where he was headed and Mack explained that he was going out to California to stay with his uncle. Mack then asked Sam where he was headed, if he didn't mind.
Sam chuckled, "I'm headed as far as Flagstaff, then I'm on my hawg out to California too. If you'd like, I've got room on the back of it for you."
"Well," Mack paused but thought fast, "I don't know. Maybe." Mack barely knew this hulking bear. Sam, watching his face, could read the young man's thoughts.
'He's smart to be cautious, not all young'uns are,' Sam thought. "Tell ya what. If you don't trust me by Flagstaff, then you just stay on the bus," Sam said.
Before Mack could answer the food arrived.
Mack was truly amazed at just how much food arrived. His own plate, he could tell, was going to stuff him. Sam's plates would have fed Mack four times.
Sam grunted in pleasure as he dug into his meal and commented more than a few times on how good the food was.
"If y'ever have a question about how good the food is at a restaurant, jus' look to see who's eating there. If there's truckers an' bikers eatin' there, you can be pretty sure it's good food, at good prices with generous portions." Sam said and took another bite of pancakes. Mack nodded and agreed. The food really was good.
The time was getting close to when they would have to board the bus again, but Sam was finished, pie and all, before Mack was.
The checks came and Sam pulled out a fat wallet attached to a chain from his back pocket. Mack and Sam both left a generous tip and paid for their meals at the cashier's station.
The bus was boarding and before they got on Sam turned to Mack and said quietly, "Look, I'm gonna make a promise to you."
Mack was somewhat surprised that Sam would do such a personal thing with someone he'd known less than a day.
"As long as I'm traveling with you, I promise you'll be safe," Sam said.
They boarded the bus and took their seats.
Sam pulled out his book and began to read; Mack interrupted him. "Why did you promise to protect me?"
Sam smiled, "Because, you remind me of someone I know, someone I met when he was about your age; someone I care a whole lot about. I know you don't know me, but I swear I'd never harm you Mack, you have my word on that."
Sam went back to reading his book, leaving Mack to ponder their exchange. Mack rubbed his cheeks, rubbing the soft stubble of a young beard on his face gave him a certain sense of pleasure. He played a little with his goatee as he listened to some more music and looked out the window at the mostly uninteresting scenery as it rolled by.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Mack - Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Russ O'Brien grunted as he bent over the heart of The Grrrizz. He was performing surgery and had been since five this morning. Jesse woke him up at four with a blow-job, his favorite way to wake up. Russ was hard as steel again, he always got that way when he worked on an engine. The precum stain on the front of his overalls was testimony to that. Russ was worked up and would love to push Jesse up against the ol' Bear right now, but work came first. There was no time for play, not now when the Bear needed him; play could wait until a long lunch break. Sweat ran down Russ' furry back, matting the fur down; underneath his one-piece mechanic's overalls his pits were soaking. The stump of an unlit cigar rolled around in his mouth as he torqued down a bolt. It was 9 a.m. and it was already getting hot in Bakersfield, even with the garage doors open and the morning breeze. He wore nothing beneath the overalls during the summer and though he had the front zipper down to just below his nipples, he was still too hot.

Ol' Grrrizz, one of the mightiest metallic monsters on the monster truck circuit, had broken an axle at the last rally in the Phoenix Mega-Dome. The engine had thrown a couple of rods; Russ knew it was the nitro mix and could have kicked himself black and blue for not getting the more expensive computerized regulator Jesse had wanted to get. Ol' Grrrizz had made the jump, which is what the crowd had paid to see, but the faithful ol' Bear had to be hauled home. He limped out of the arena, badly wounded. In the end, what he paid for in new parts was quite a few times the price of that regulator; still, Grrrizz had brought home the bacon, just not as much as he might have, but enough to pay the mortgage, utilities and food. The bills for the parts had to come out of the profits.

He and Jesse had hauled the wounded Bear back here and had just finished the heart and bone transplants needed to get the big Bear back and prowling two weeks from now in Colorado. All things considered, it wasn't too bad. Each time he and Jesse worked on the Bear, they came up with new ideas to improve on him. They had talked about tearing Grrrizz apart and rebuilding him from almost scratch several times as they lay in bed; it was an odd sort of pillow talk. Jesse knew how aroused his burly daddy got when they discussed rebuilding the Bear from the ground up; it was kind of foreplay between the two. Something about working on cars and trucks pushed Russ' buttons the way talking dirty turned other guys on. Jesse didn't understand it, but he was sure going to use it.

"There!" Russ growled around his cigar as he held the match to the end and puffed it to life, "It's done!" Russ pulled on the cigar and then released billows of bluish smoke. He stood back and looked at the engine with a certain sense of accomplishment and pride. "Now all we have to do is tune the ol' Bear up and install that high priced new nitro regulator."

"Yeah, if you'd done that before, ol' man, we wouldn't be fuckin' around with repairs now," Jesse taunted.

"Yeah, well fuck you, Jesse Alvarez!" Russ growled, turning his gaze from the engine to his smugly grinning partner.

"Any time you're ready, you furry ol' bastard! You want some of this, anciano?" Russ' eyes flared bright blue as Jesse said this. Jesse turned his ass to the big man and bent forward just slightly, showing off his rump. Jesse knew the "ol' bastard" comment had done the trick.

Within seconds burly arms wrapped themselves under Jesse's strong, well muscled arms, hands knitted together behind the smaller man's neck locking him in a full nelson.

Russ rumbled in his ear, cigar smoke puffing into Jesse's ear with each word. "What'd you say, Cub?"

In playful defiance Jesse shot back, "You heard me, Oso! We're wastin'' time here because you wouldn't listen to me, viejo."

Russ pulled the smaller man to his body, squeezing him tighter with his arms as he pushed his head forward bending his neck so that his chin touched his chest. Jesse loved this rough play and so did Russ. Jesse could feel the big bear's hard cock against his rump. The pounding of Russ' strong heart against his back, even through their overalls, the hot smoky breath on his ear and the low threatening growl of his love had Jesse ready to be fucked.

"You talkin' back to your daddy, cachorro? You a bear now? Huh, Cub?" Russ hissed.

"Damn right I'm a bear you old fart, a big, hairy, muscled out, bearded bear," Jesse said as he wrapped his arms around the big man's forearms and began rubbing Russ' inner leg with his own.

"Is that so?" Russ said in mock curiosity and squeezed Jesse even harder. Jesse felt the bear's muscles flexing. Russ pushed his cock into the small of Jesse's back, dry humping him in slow deliberate strokes.

"Yeah, that's so. I am a bear!" Jesse growled back and then, softly, sweetly he continued "…but I'm your Cub, Oso."

Immediately Russ released Jesse from his hold, spun the smaller Hispanic man about pushing him against the recovering Grrrizz with a bang; Russ paused and looked deeply into Jesse's brown eyes. He sniffed at him like a carnivore about to feed. He growled lowly again and said in a deep rumble, "That's what I wanted to hear."

He took a deep drag on the cigar and pulled it out of his mouth and then forced his tongue down Jesse's throat.

Russ thought, 'So, what the Hell? We'll take an early long lunch.' As Jesse began unzipping the bigger man's overalls, hauling out the huge, wet cock, Russ fed Jesse his spit and the smoke.

Russ peeled Jesse out of his one-piece with efficiency born of practice. Jesse was also naked and sweaty under his overalls; he also dispensed with underwear during the hot months. He broke their kiss and completely removed Jesse's work clothes. Putting the cigar back in his mouth and puffed; he paused a moment to admire his mate. Jesse smiled and flexed various muscle groups as Russ ran his rough hands over his lover.

When Russ first made love to him, Jesse was smooth, almost hairless. Now Jesse had lots of silky black fur on his chest and back. His silky black beard was thick and looked so beautiful against his light brown skin. His Aztec style bear tattoo on his left upper arm was covered in fur.

Russ grunted and pulled on his cigar. He gave his lover another smoky kiss and when they parted a string of spit hung between their mouths briefly before Russ drew on his cigar again. Jesse began stroking him hard and in moments had covered Russ' cock in its own precum. Russ was slick now with his clear lube and Jesse nuzzled his cock up to his lover's and began stroking them together, covering his thick manhood with Russ' fluid. Russ drooled out more precum than anyone Jesse had ever known; Russ never needed artificial lube when he was aroused. Jesse was adding his copious flow to their stiff rods.

Russ groaned and then growled out, "Get in the back of the truck."

Jesse liked it rough, and since becoming Russ's cub, could take anything the bear wanted to dish out... and return it in equal measure. Scrambling onto the mattress Russ kept in the shop and had thrown into the pickup bed of the ol' Bear after they'd come back from the show, he assumed the classic bearfuck position. Russ wasted no time at all hilting himself in his cub's sweet, warm ass. Jesse let out a soft grunt as he felt his lover's cock slide in and hit his prostate. Russ let out a considerably louder one as he felt his thick tip push in past Jesse's muscle ring, briefly compressing the sensitive tip that was exposed by the already-retracted foreskin.

“Been thinkin' 'bout this all morning, cub,” Russ growled as he hammered his cub butt. His paws gripped Jesse's furred shoulders for leverage. “You fucker, you really make my motor run,” Russ growled around his cigar, still clamped in his teeth. “Gonna fill that sweet ass of yours, osito!” Russ really had been thinking about Jesse off and on during the hot morning, and it took little to get him revved up. In spite of having had his balls drained earlier that morning by Jesse, he was full again and needed to pump his cub full of good thick seed. He felt his tip flare, and the cum boiled up from his balls. He gripped Jesse's shoulders tighter as the cum shot deep into the cub's gut. Jesse moaned in pleasure, both from the heat of Russ' cum inside him, and from the thick pressure of his cock inside, and the sweat and coarse fur that was pressed against his backside. He pushed back hard against Russ' crotch and the thick pole buried in his ass.

“Damn, you are one fine fuck,” Russ growled, as he gave Jesse a few final strokes with his only slightly softening rod. He finally pulled out and breathed in Jesse's ear, “How about you make this viejo happy, huh?”

Hijo de puta, haven't I done enough?” Jesse grinned.

Russ took a hold of Jesse's erect drooling cock. “Hey, osito, don't tell me you don't want too!”

Jesse was the smaller of the two, and it was often easier for him if Russ was on his belly. He pushed the bigger bear down on the sweat-stained mattress, spat on his cock and coated it with a mix of his own precum and saliva, and centered. With a grin, he slowly began to ease his cock in, teasing the hole for a while, then penetrating, only to withdraw, then tease again.

“Fuck me, dammit!” Russ growled.

Jesse chuckled, and teased a bit more; but soon his own lust overtook him and he pounded his daddy's ass as hard as his own had been pounded. “Aaaaiiieeee, papi!” he roared as his own hot seed pulsed out and filled Russ's ass. He collapsed on top of him, and they both lay there for a while, breathing hard.

After a while, Russ reached over and rubbed Jesse's furry belly. “Round two?” Jesse grinned.

An hour or so later, the two lay naked and satisfied next to each other on the mattress. The back end of Grrrizz was a favorite place to fuck for Russ. Russ, spooned around Jesse with his cock still firmly planted in his furry ass was alternately stroking the smaller man's soft silky beard and playing with his dense chest fur, twirling the beard and chest hair between his meaty fingers. Russ had smoked his morning cigar while fucking Jesse and was now puffing on the remains of a second, offering Jesse a drag now and then.

"So, how soon until your nephew gets here?" Jesse said, changing the subject from what else needed to be done to Grrrizz.

"He'll be out here at the end of the week, maybe a day or two after that. I talked to Sam and he agreed to hop on his bus in Georgia. He'll ride it with Mack until they reach Flagstaff, by then Mack will probably trust him enough to get on the back of that rattle trap Sam calls a Hawg to ride out here," Russ said.

"Why Flagstaff?" Jesse asked taking a drag on the cigar and handing it back.

"Sam wants to get off the bus and take Mack out to see the Grand Canyon; spend a couple of days with him, just the two of them," Russ said as he took the cigar back. "He'll pick up his bike, and if my nephew's on the back of that bike, breathing in that bear's scent, it's gonna make it that much easier for Mack here. It'll accustom him to bear scent."

"You think Sam will fuck him?" Jesse asked.

"I dunno. You and I have been fuckin' with Sam for years now, every time he stops by, and Mack sure looks enough like me. That might push Sam's buttons. Hell, Mack looks like I did at his age, when Sam broke me in, and the kid is gonna find Sam damned near irresistible. You know from personal experience what our pheromones can do. When you first came to work for me you did your best to resist it. You were quite a little hot head and wouldn't listen to a thing I told you. I woulda fired your ass, if I didn't find it so damned hot.” Russ grinned. “After a couple of months, though, that body stink of mine did the trick. I watched you get more and more agreeable as you began to accept me as a dominant. Probably woulda happened sooner if you weren't as feisty.”

Jesse laughed, "Yeah, I was a handful. You know, I didn't really like fat hairy white guys before you, but that scent of yours; I didn't know why but I just wanted to get closer to you. I started seein' you in a new light and decided I might like fat hairy white guys after all. Sneaky ol' bastard. Luring an innocent young Latino man into your den, wavin' that fat cock of yours around, and messin' with his mind like that. You should be ashamed." Jesse said with mock reproach. Jesse squeezed on Russ' cock with his ass muscles and Russ growled appreciatively in his ear.

"Yeah, I hooked you and reeled you in. You complainin', boy?" Russ asked in mock anger.

"Nah, people get together all the time because of chemistry. There ain't nothin' wrong with falling in love with someone after they've got your attention with their natural gifts." Jesse said, "But I know what Mack's gonna go through. He's gonna keep wondering why he's attracted to Sam and won't know why he's being so agreeable."

"Yeah, I can imagine what it's gonna be like for Mack. He already likes fat hairy white guys." Russ said with a chuckle, "I told you about the time Mack and I were at the swimming hole and he got a little boy boner."

Jesse nodded, remembering the tale of how Mack had been so fascinated by Russ' half-naked body at the pond.

"Sam will have him eatin' out of his hand after he's got him on the back of that bike of his. They'll be out in the desert and Sam will be sweatin' up a storm, wearin' nothin' but that ratty black Harley tank top he likes. Mack's gonna get a constant nose full of Sam's armpit stink. Then again, Sam might get all protective and paternal toward him in his role as protector. You know how he gets, all 'Papa Grizzly' like when he's being the knight guardian of his ward; it's that 'code of honor' he talks about. It's funny, I haven't quite figured out when that 'code' applies to someone he's protecting and when it doesn't." Russ pulled deeply on the very last of the cigar and stubbed it out on a piece of scrap sheet metal in the pickup bed.

He turned Jesse's head toward him and bent his neck so that their mouths met and then filled his lover's lungs with the smoke as he deep kissed him. They traded the smoke back and forth until they both needed air.

When they parted, Russ smacked Jesse hard on his furry butt and smiled.

"What the Hell was that for?" Jesse asked and rubbed the reddening paw print on his ass with a smile on his face.

"That's for being disrespectful of your elders! 'Ol' bastard', indeed!" Russ growled.

"Got your motor runnin' didn't it, Oso?" Jesse teased as Russ began to pull out.

"Yeah, it sure did." Russ bent down and bit Jesse's shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. Jesse grunted in pain and moaned in pleasure.

"Papi!"Jesse sighed.

Russ released his bite hold and gently swatted his lover on the butt. He wasn't completely out of Jesse just yet and he was still "hungry".

'What the fuck, another ten minutes won't make that big a difference in the schedule.' Russ thought as he pushed his cock back into Jesse and began piston fucking his lover for the third time.

He pushed Jesse's head down to the mattress and pumped into him; with his other hand he reached around and began stroking his mate's rod, his sweaty, hairy chest and belly rubbing against Jesse's furry back.

"Harder, ol' man!" Jesse growled as Russ sped up. Jesse was milking Russ, clenching his muscles as Russ pulled out to the base of his glans and releasing as Russ thrust back in. Russ thanked God daily he had found such a talented lover.

Jesse raised up, pushing them both into a more horizontal position. "Bite me, papi!"

Russ did just that, he bit into the shoulder he'd just bitten minutes ago.

With that, Jesse lost it. "Fuck!" Jesse growled.

He exploded all over the mattress setting Russ off, who exploded inside of Jesse with a roar that would do any Grizzly proud.

Russ collapsed on Jesse and Jesse crumpled beneath his larger, heavier lover. They lay there for ten more minutes. Russ kissed and licked Jesse's ears, neck and shoulders, tasting his sweat. Nuzzling him until they'd both caught their breath again.

Russ pulled out and growled, "Let's get dressed and back at it, cachorro, it's almost eleven and we've got more to do before our actual lunch break."

Mack - Chapter One



PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr

(This is a work of fiction, depicting sex between consenting adult males. If such offends you or is illegal for you to read where you live, or you are under the age of eighteen, please leave now. No actual persons or events are depicted. Safe sexual practices are not used, but remember, this is fiction; in real life, get tested and play safe.)

Chapter 1
"I can't believe you're a fag!"
The words echoed in Mack's head. His father sounded hurt and angry and confused and disappointed all at the same time.
"I'm bi, dad, but I like guys better than girls," Mack said as if the explanation would make sense to his fifty-year-old father.
"Bi? Bi!? Is that supposed to make a difference to me? Make me feel better? It still means you're takin' it up the ass or sucking cock, right? And what about AIDS?" Scott O'Brien's voice rose. "What about Amy? You two have been going out since your freshman year in high school."
"Dad! I can't help how I am. Yeah, I like Amy and we've made out and I liked that and Amy doesn't have any hang ups about me likin' guys, she even thinks it's kinda cool. I like girls, but.." Mack seemed to run out of words.
His dad rolled his eyes and continued.
"But you'd rather get fucked by some flaming queer? I just don't understand you, son, you like football and hockey, you love trucks and I've seen the way you look at Cheryl Dunning. I always thought you were a man! You look and act like a man, not some limp-wristed queen," Scott said, that confused-disappointed sound still strong in his father's voice. "Does your mother know?"
"I am a man, dad, and I like men who look and act like men, not queens." That last part slipped out, it was something Mack hadn't wanted to say because Scott was the quintessential man's man; a masculine, meat and potatoes, truck drivin', construction man with a full beard, a hairy chest and back, lots of muscle, and tats on his arms. He was the man Mack had measured every other man against since the age of five.
Scott O'Brien's eyes widened as he realized something for the first time.
"So that's why you liked football and poker nights with me and my buddies! Here I thought my son was interested in man stuff and you were just gettin' off lookin' at my buddies," Scott said and there was something new in his father's tone of voice and Mack knew exactly what that new element was – disgust, maybe. "That's what's with the goatee too, isn't it?" Scott snorted and turned away. "I gotta get outta here before I say something I don't want to say," Scott said and grabbed his coat. "If your mother asks, I'm at Barney's, I need a beer or two to forget about this for awhile." With that his father left the house for the bar.
Mack stood, dumbfounded; he went to his bedroom and, though he hadn't done it for years, he cried. He cried because the man he'd always loved had shoved a sword through his heart.
That was a month ago and Mack, sitting on the bus now three days into his five day journey, still remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. He wondered if he would remember it as vividly twenty years from now. He thought he would; he thought he'd never be able to forget.
He remembered how Officer Ryan brought his dad home that night because he'd met him outside the bar and talked him out of driving home dead drunk. He remembered his mom pouring his dad into bed and listening though the wall as his dad talked to his mom about him and how he was gay. Mack's mom, of course, knew; and had for a couple of years. Mothers are sometimes much more perceptive than fathers; and fathers sometimes are blind because they want or need to be.
If only he'd heard his dad pull up in his truck or heard him come in the back door but he was too engrossed in the conversation he and Amy were having. If only he'd shut his door and his dad wouldn't have overheard him talking to Amy on the phone about being gay, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be on his way to live with Uncle Russ out in California. Of course his dad would send him out to Uncle Russ; Uncle Russ was a sissy by dad's definition.
He really had expected something like this to have happened earlier, in his senior year when he'd been caught hacking into the school's computer system. The school had called the police, and the police had brought him home. At the hearing, the judge had suggested probation since he hadn't actually caused any damage or changed any records. The school had accepted that, but it came with a string... no computer access during probation. Period. He had only done it to prove how piss-poor the school's firewalls were; but his parents had gone ballistic, especially his dad. It was his dad who had threatened sending him west the next time he'd gotten into trouble with the police, for hacking into the oil company's billing computer last winter. That time, he'd only wanted to reduce his family's heating bill so his mom wouldn't be so worried that they wouldn't be able to make it on his dad's reduced pay. His dad had threatened, "I swear to God, if you cause us any more trouble with the police, I WILL send you to live with your faggot uncle." It would be the ultimate punishment, in his father's eyes.
Mack remembered Uncle Russ differently. He remembered a strong masculine man not too different from his own father, except perhaps bigger, hairier, quieter and of course, gay. Uncle Russ' beard was longer, bushier and darker brown-red than his dad's lighter one. That same color was only slightly lighter on his chest and back and there was plenty of it too. Mack was fascinated by it and played with what poked out of his Uncle's shirt and his beard when he was much younger and Uncle Russ would hold him in his lap. Mack had really liked the feel of it.
Mack remembered going down to the pond for a swim with his Uncle on a visit when he was still young. When Uncle Russ asked, guessing the boy's secret, Mack admitted that he liked men; that big hairy men made him feel funny inside. He remembered admitting to his uncle, with embarrassment, that yes, he had been admiring his uncle's hairy shirtless chest and back. Yes, he liked the look and feel of his uncles full bushy beard and yes, he had been looking at the impressive bulge in his uncle's swim trunks. He remembered pleading with Uncle Russ not to tell anyone and his big burly uncle took him into a gentle bare-chested bear hug that left Mack as hard as a rock. He briefly played with his uncle's chest fur as he had done when he was a child. Uncle Russ assured him that his secret was safe and that if there ever came a time he needed to, he promised Mack could come out to California and live with him, if he liked.
Well, now was the time to collect on that promise. Mack had nowhere else to go on short notice. His dad hadn't exactly kicked him out of the house, he'd just told him that he needed to get his own place in a couple of weeks; now that he was almost twenty-two and a 'man' and all. That had been said with a sneer. Mack had been saving a lot on rent by staying with his parents and to his credit it went directly into a savings account with only some of it going for food, truck payments and the occasional splurge. His dad rarely spoke to him, and avoided being in the same room with him. His relationship with him had cooled and was rigidly formal now; and Mack hated that. They'd been so close, going to football games, working on cars together, going fishing and now that wonderful closeness was gone. His father seemed to take some sort of perverse pleasure by lavishing that extra attention on his younger brother Billy who his father loudly proclaimed was 100% red-blooded male and would do him proud.
Mack remembered how he'd left the only home he'd ever known three days ago. His dad had softened ever so slightly at the last and saw his eldest son off at the bus terminal with an extra $2,000 that Mack's mom had insisted on.
He warned Mack not to flash his money and Mack took that as a somewhat hopeful sign, too. Mack had to sell his truck since there was no way he'd trust it on such a long journey with its mileage and its quirks. His personal belongings had been shipped out to Uncle Russ as freight, but even at freight rates it cost him a small fortune. His mom gave him a paid long distance phone card and made Mack promise to call every Sunday.
"Son," Scott said looking deep into his eyes, "I don't understand you and I don't agree with your… lifestyle… if that's what you call it; but I don't wish you anything but goodness in your life."
"I know that was hard for you, Dad." Mack paused, then said " I love you Dad." Mack hugged his father, and when the hug wasn't returned, they parted. Mack got on the bus and his parents looked on. His mother waved, his father just looked as the bus left.
Mack sat toward the back of the mostly empty bus. He covered his head with his jacket and tried to sleep but failed. 'Time to grow up, I guess,' he thought to himself. 'I'm on my own now. I always wondered what it would be like. Guess I'll find out. Maybe Uncle Russ will have a computer I can work on.' Eventually he dozed off.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Workin' Stiff

Workin' Stiff

By Bjorn Torson

It had been four months since my accident and thanks to Doc Black, my new Huswerebear, I was both alive AND new and improved! Dr. Arthur Black and his close friends are one of the true secret wonders of the world; they are Werebears. That's right, like Werewoves, but they change into Bears. I'd fallen into a ravine and almost died from blood loss and a big old lumbering Bear came to my rescue. Now, months later, I too was a Werebear; changing me was the only way Art could save my life.
I'd been up near the north end of the San Joaquin Valley, living out of my car and looking for honest work and I was scouting out the land where I was camping for the night when I fell. Art rescued me, shared the gift of Ursanthropy with me, patched me up, took me into his home, and we fell in love. He lived in seclusion on 200 acres in a beautiful old blue and white three story Victorian farm house with many rooms and a huge basement.
The day of my first changing did not start out well. It was heralded by a nasty headache as I woke up. Art said the first change began like that, probably because things were growing and the structure of the bone was changing. I'd been experiencing growing pains over the last few months, general aches and pains here and there. Hard physical work or weightlifting seemed to help. I could have ignored the sign as just a really bad headache if it weren't five days or so after the four-month deadline since I'd fallen into the ravine. My skin felt itchy all over and a bit tight. "Yep, that's a sure sign of the change coming on," Art growled around a cigar as he gently scratched my entire body.
Bears, human or Werebear, seem to take particular pleasure in that. It felt so good to get an all over body scratch, lying there on my stomach and breathing in the incredible Ursine aromas. I lay face down in what used to be "Art's" big king sized bed. It was now, as Art constantly reminded me, "Our" bed in "Our" room and it smelled wonderfully of about a year's worth of "His" Bear musk and pipe-cigar smoke and four month's worth of "Our" combined sexual scents. Art is such a sweet cuddly Teddy.
Art looks more like a logger than a doctor: He's 6'7", with a gray/brown beard and hair; he has broad shoulders, barreled chest, muscle everywhere, huge biceps, a thick neck and fur all over. His fur is so thick it almost hides his skin. He's got a small a beer gut, but he still looks like he breaks horses, bales hay, digs ditches or loads ships for a living. He's handsome as Hell, too!
"I want to be fucking you as you change," my big Papa was growling in my ear softly in a way he knew turned me on with his moist, hot, smoke- scented breath tickling my ear. "It's kind of a long standing tradition with u,." he continued and nibbled on my ear. "The Bear that changed you gets to be the first to see you change and fuck you in your new shape. I'm not exactly taking your virginity, but in a way I am since it's the first time I'll be fucking Max the Werebear. Of course, the new Werebear gets to be the first to fuck his Papa with his new sized equipment." Art winked and puffed as he got up from the bed. "I'm going down stairs to get some goodies and the microwave. I want enough food up here so I won't miss anything. This is going to take all day."
Throughout the day I felt my muscles growing and I was growing taller. I was eating like I had a hole in my stomach. Art did have to make a couple of extra trips for food in the pantry, even he'd brought up laundry baskets full of stuff.
"Thank God for quick and easy food," Art said. "In the old days, we had to gather this up for a new Bear and have it waiting a couple of days in advance. Back then it was mostly preserved meats and home canned vegetables. Now all I have to do is bring up some half thawed raw meat and frozen veggies and you're set!"
"I never really had a taste for raw meat before," I said, "but I've been craving it lately."
"You're becoming a Werebear, your instincts are not completely human anymore. Naturally, you're going to like the taste of certain things humans usually don't go for. Beetle grubs, for instance and slightly aged meat, not rotten mind you. You're lucky because you don't have to worry about disease from uncooked meat or what humans would consider spoiled food." I made a face. "You'll see!" he chuckled. "I'll fry up some nice battered grubs or grasshoppers or bumble bees and have a dipping sauce with them and you'll come sniffing and snuffling around the kitchen for some. I'll tell you what they are and you'll make that same face, pop one in your mouth and devour the rest of the plateful." He chuckled around his cigar as I wrinkled up my nose and stuck out my tongue.
"After all, shrimp are insects that went back to the sea just like lobster and crab is just big water spider, especially King Crab, they're directly related to spiders."
"You haven't been feeding me bugs have you?" I asked.
He grinned. "No. No more than you usually get in the ketchup and apple sauce or other food that's commercially produced." I made another face. He smiled again and blew smoke out of his nose. "It's 100% pure, harmless, well cooked bug protein and you'd never have know it was in there if I hadn't just told you."
The thing was, I WAS getting hungry and repulsed at the same time thinking about fat, juicy grubs. The image of me as an Ursine Renfield crossed my mind and I shook my head to banish it. Apparently, my mode of thought and appetites were changing too.
I decided to change the subject. "I want to fuck so badly," I said.
"I know," he said, "but I want to wait until the change speeds up. That will happen later tonight. You'll change suddenly. You'll start feeling hot, like you're burning up. You'll get a huge boner and start pumping out what's left of your human sperm and I want to have my mouth on your cock when that happens. You'll feel like you're never going to stop. As soon as you're finished pumping, Bear fur will start growing all over you and that's when I'm going to push you face down on the bed, ram my cock up your ass and sink my canines into your changing shoulder." Just hearing the description of what was going to happen in a mere ten hours or so made me shoot with out even touching my cock. It landed in my thickening chest fur; my human fur was growing in, covering my body.
"I'll get that for you, son," Art said and started licking my cum out of my newly sprouting fur. Not every Werebear grows the same density of human fur and though no Werebear could be described as lightly furred, some of us don't look too different as far as fur goes from one form to the other. I was growing fur on my back and Art brought over a couple of mirrors to show me after he'd cleaned me up. It was like watching the transformation scene, the one that had turned me on as a teen, in ‘American Werewolf In London'; only this was slower.
"Have you ever considered filming this process?" I asked.
"Yes, it has been considered and rejected. We don't want hard proof of anything. Special effects artists would know the difference between real and fake," he said. I watched as my torso and shoulders became darker with the accumulation of fur. I noticed the hair color was changing from a blond brown to black and so was my beard. The hair on my head was becoming a nut brown.
"Looks like you've got some recessive genes. The metamorphosis is bringing out new colors in your fur," he said appreciatively. "Looks like your eye color is changing too."
I looked in the mirror and my blue eyes were changing, fading to gray. They finally settled into a nice gray green. I was going to have to get used to my new coloration in human form too. He said after I changed, he'd trim all of my body fur and give me a hair cut to get rid of the bleach blond effect my color change had created.
Somewhere around 10 PM, as Art was massaging me, and familiarizing himself with my new body, I started to feel warm. I began sweating and I was becoming painfully stiff. "I'm getting hot… physically and sexually," I said.
"That the first sign, son. I'm gonna shift and attach my muzzle to your growing manhood. That way I can start taking care of the copious amounts of cum your gonna be making." Art began shifting. I'd seen him shift every day, at least once, for the last few months and I still marveled at the beautiful change. As soon as he'd grown a muzzle he dove on my cock. I was watching my cock grow longer than it had ever been before and it was becoming nice and fat too. My Papa Teddy Bear was rolling my transforming dick around in his mouth like one of those huge imported cigars he liked to smoke every once in a while.
Then, the deluge began; I started shooting. I began fucking Art's incredible muzzle. He growled low, sending infrasonic vibrations through my cock straight to my prostate. For the next hour or so, I must have shot five to six loads. I spent an hour in orgasm, riding a roller coaster between the intense highs of spinal meltdown and the dips of all-over body tingle and intense warm feeling of pleasure in my torso. I felt like I was glowing from within. All through it Art sucked and nibbled on my cock, taking my balls into his muzzle occasionally. I trembled violently all over with pleasure, growled and grunted as I emptied myself into my Papa. My voice was deepening as my larynx grew. The next day I found I'd gone from a low tenor voice to a low baritone.
Thirty minutes or so into my hour long series of orgasms, Papa came off of me, stuffed his huge cock down my throat and we 69ed the rest of the hour. He shot several loads down my throat and I pulled off to his fat bulbous head so I could fill my mouth with my big Teddy's seed. We continued this until I finally stopped cuming. Art shot a final load in my mouth and we separated. We kissed, mingling our seed together in our mouths.
I was exhausted and my mind was numbed by pleasure, but there was no time to rest. My big old Papa Teddy deep kissed me, our tongues wrestling in our mouths and as we were busy with that I started growing new fur: BEAR FUR! The sensation was incredible. At first it felt like the entire surface of my skin was tingling the way it does when a limb goes to sleep, the ‘all pins and needles' sensation. Then, extreme pleasure as the soft fur and coarser guard hairs grew out. I began to smell like a Bear as the scent glands matured and produced Bear musk that was carried to the air by the growing fur. I was finally going to start smelling like my Papa.
"You're going furry on me, son. It's time for me to go to work on your hungry ass hole. Flip over and spread those cute cheeks for your Papa!" He growled and drooled with lust. I growled back for the first time as my voice was transformed into a Bear's by my changing vocal cords and growing muzzle. "God, yes. Push that monster into me now!" I roared out the last as he pushed me over and began forcing his huge pole into me. He began fucking me much harder than he had ever fucked me before. It hurt a lot and I was grunting loudly.
I began to ask why and he read my thought. "Now I can fuck you like a grown Bear. I can let loose and show you how we Bears really fuck. I can finally be as rough as I've wanted to be with you. We don't have to be gentle anymore, unless you or I want to." He growled and I barely understood what he said. He was going full Bear and he was losing control over his speech. I felt his penis growing even larger, to its full Ursine size, something I'd never felt before and had only seen once. I was in a state of ecstasy, as his veritable log of a cock grew hotter inside of me and spread my cheeks apart. "Gonna fuck you hard. Gonna push it in deep." I almost didn't understand that last at all, at least not by what he said.
After that he was a Beast. He'd gone completely Bear. My burly Papa Bear was mating with me. He bit down hard into my transforming shoulder, sinking his teeth into me to get an anchor hold for the deepest, hardest thrusts possible. He was savage and consumed by lust and I loved the way he'd transformed into a hungry fuckbeast. His rod and hips pumped into me with a fevered rhythm, banging me hard as he growled in pleasure. My growing prostate jerked spasmodically and sent waves of tingling delight through out my ever expanding Bear form. My cock drooled out cups of pre-cum. Were I still human, he'd be breaking bones, tearing muscle, and damaging vital organs, But I was no longer human. I could see why Papa HAD to wait so patiently for this night to show me the truly erotic beast within him.
In the midst of all of this, my hands and feet were changing into paws, I felt claws growing, pushing out the thin and useless nails humans had. I had the urge to claw a tree trunk. I was fascinated as I watched my hands grow huge and claws grow out. I watched the tender palm change into a rough pad and saw the pads develop on the tips of my fingers. One of my most human features was being changed into a distinctively Bear feature. Ever after the change, my finger and toenails were slightly darker in color and decidedly much thicker. I spat out my old set of teeth, fillings and all, as a new set of Bear teeth and fangs grew in. I would grow another set of human teeth upon changing back, but even they would look different from my original set. I would have longer, more pointed incisors on both top and bottom rows. Papa had told me to expect that so I wouldn't swallow them. I could plan on a completely new set of teeth every ten years. I felt my balls and cock expanding and the pleasure of that sensation was mind blowing. My nose was growing wet, my ears shifting higher on my head and my neck was lengthening. The last thing I noticed was a completely new appendage growing from the rear of my body. I'd began growing a fat, stubby tail and every time art brushed up against it with his belly I got a thrill. The tail, I discovered, is extremely erogenous; ever notice how cats and dogs react to you playing with the base of their tail? Well, trust me, it turns Bears on, too. I really was surprised that I hadn't cum yet, then gradually, I began to feel an orgasm building deep within me. My ass muscles started massaging my Papa's mighty tool and I started thrusting back at his cock with the desperation of one in extreme need. Papa roared again, I felt his rhythm breaking and he began shuddering, he wasn't to far from shooting his load. He released his clamp hold on my shoulder, roared and began pumping torrents of white hot cum into me from the depths of his body. His claws raked my chest and it felt so good.
He flipped me over and I was looking into a face I no longer recognized. He was possessed by the need to fuck and that's all that showed in his eyes. I wrapped my new legs around his waist and pulled him closer. He resisted and pulled off of me. In the blink of an eye he was out and shot three hot loads of thick, pure white, Bear seed into my opened muzzle and on my fur matted chest. I was beginning to change further, now I was losing the ability to think as clearly and my body went on autopilot. I was becoming a full Bear just like Papa.
Then my Papa wrestled me on top of him and I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be the first to be fucked by my new Bear sized dick. I wanted to push my dick as far as I could inside of him. I wanted to see him sucking my dick with the head poking OUT of his mouth. It was an outrageous fantasy, but it fueled my fevered passions. I thrust my cock into him and bent down to lock our muzzles together. Each of us was probing the other's throats with our long ursine tongues. He growled and so did I. The sound of beasts happily enslaved to their passions. I knew now what my Papa had been wanting to give me for months now. Now, I wanted to fuck him as roughly as possible. I bit down into HIS shoulder, knowing how it would set him on fire. He roared and began pushing his ass into my crotch. I got the hint; I started fucking him hard and fast. I grunted and growled; breathing so fast I almost hyperventilated. My balls, swollen to their new majestic size, needed release. I fucked Papa with progressive savagery; faster and harder and he loved it. His talented ass muscles massaged my cock and milked it so well that it felt almost as if it was being sucked on. This was too much and my impatient, hormone charged, male glands burst forth. I roared, as Papa had earlier, and I shot load after load into Papa's starving ass. I fed it all I could give it.
Trembling, and suddenly weak, I collapsed on my WereTeddy. He shot another load into our fur, grunting softly as the flame that had consumed both of us slowly died down into warm ashes. Soon we were both snoring and I slept on top of Papa with my dick firmly planted inside of him.
I awoke the following evening with Papa's tongue in my mouth. He said it was open so he took that as an invitation. I was still inside of him and I was semi-hard again. We had both changed in our sleep back to our human forms. His big soft beard felt so good against my chest; it had grown considerably and so had mine. Going full Bear increased the growth rate even further, temporarily. I was incredibly furry all over. I hadn't quite grown a human pelt, but it was admirably thick and luxurious. "Well, son," he said with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. "Pull forth thy mighty sword from out of my rock hard ass and examine it in all of its Ursine glory!" He began laughing softly and the contractions his ass muscles made had me rock hard. I pulled it out of him and my God! I was huge!
"It's gigantic! It's beautiful!" That was all I could manage to say and Papa was chuckling again.
"I said almost those exact same words when I saw my new cock. I love the look on the face of the Bearman that first sees the realization of all of his most fervent fantasies. To see the awe and wonder on his face, then the bright beaming sun of his smile as he touches his Grizzly-sized pole for the first time."
I yawned and stretched with one hand gripping my telephone pole of a dick the whole time, half way believing this was a dream and it would shrink if I let go. He rolled me in his arms and, still being exhausted and sore from my first change, I began to fall asleep with him gently kissing me; my hand still wrapped around my new Grizzly dick. "You won't cum nearly as much as you did last night again, unless you're waking up from a LONG hibernation," Papa whispered as I nodded off. "Sleep well, my love, you have a long new life ahead of you when you wake." He kissed my forehead as I sunk down into the depths of sleep in the warm comforting embrace of my Papa's arms and scent.
All in all the bonuses of being 'inhuman' as Art calls us were quite nice. I'd grown from 5'8" to 6'4": eight inches taller in a third of a year. I'd beefed out incredibly and I'm still growing muscle. Art says I'll be at my final size in about five years. He expects another two to three inches in height, about 150 lbs. of muscle growth and thirty or so pounds in fat. My looks changed a bit too. My face became broader, but Art says the shape of the face always changes to something larger than what it was so as to accommodate the transformation. There's thick black fur all over my body; so, now I am as furry as Art is. But the very best was what had happened to my genitals. My man sized cock grew from seven inches long and two inches in diameter to ten and a half inches of fat, vein-covered Bearcock. Art says I may gain a bit more in girth and length there too! When I change into full Bear shape I'm a foot long and as thick as a beer can. Papa is just as big and I love to fall asleep with him inside of me at his full size. There's just something comforting about being in human form and nestled down in the underside of a Grizzly. I feel secure with his monstrous Bear dick throbbing away deep within me as I go to sleep to the sound of his snoring. My balls also grew. They're the size of small hen's eggs; and like the PapaBear who changed me, I've grown an enormous prostate. I can pump out as much cum as he can now and that makes us both happy. One final blessing/curse: my sense of smell has become incredibly acute and so has my sense of taste. A blessing when you need to locate something at a distance by smell or if you really want to savor a well made meal or wallow in the complex scents of a blanket your Bear love hasn't washed in three years. It's also a blessing to be able to taste something in minute quantities or really enjoy a good cigar or the taste of three weeks of unwashed crotch! It's curse every time the garbage truck goes by or if you really hate Brussels sprouts! Yuck!
Art has a friend, Ron, who owns a general contracting company. He arranged work for me through Ron. Ron didn't even need to interview me, I'd become a Werebear and that was good enough for him. Werebears are close-knit, and it was like hiring a family member for him, he said.
Ron is a big guy, in fact so is every Werebear I've met. Art says you HAVE to be bigger to change into a big animal. Ron has curly jet-black hair, a killer smile, hazel eyes and thick curly black hair and beard. Ron is one of those Bears that have a human pelt as well as a Werebear pelt. The fur on him is so thick, you almost can't see his skin.
The other thing about Werebears: we're all bearded. If we weren't, people would catch on really fast that our beards grow unusually fast and start poking their noses into our business. A beard you can trim every three days or so and it looks pretty much the same as it did at it's half inch or so longer length.
Ron looks like I'd always pictured Hercules to look like, except he's much woofier naked than any Hercules I've seen in the movies OR in marble. Imagine Steve Reeves as a furrier, heavier, more muscular Bear with an enormous bulge in his loin cloth. He has a nice beer belly and he's always chewing on a cigar. I met him for the first time when he came over to Art's place a couple of weeks after my first change. It was the Saturday before I was to start work. We had lunch and sat and talked over cigars and beers after stuffing ourselves on a wonderful sea food brunch; and yes, Art did deep fry some grubs and yes, I did like them after I'd finished wrinkling up my nose at them. Ron sealed my employment contract with my signature, a handshake and a nice deep kiss. We were all pretty horny by then, and me in particular.
Since I'd changed I had an incredible need to fuck and be fucked. Art said, "You'll probably settle down to JUST 'oversexed' as opposed to 'fuck anything with a hole' in a year or two, but you never know; Ron's Satyr twins might have a little brother!" He and I both laughed and Ron was eager to go down to the basement with us. Art has a fully equipped dungeon/weight room he calls his "Den of Delights".
We went down stairs. The room had the smell of a locker room, only it was Bear musk that gave it it's wonderful aroma and we Bears were the source of that scent. We all stripped and I got to see Ron naked for the first time. He had thick curly black fur all over his body. It clumped together into ringlets here and there on his chest, arms, shoulders, back, butt and legs. His sweat made his fur form into these beautiful little curls. I wanted to lick those sweaty little circlets and the ones in his armpits too. Ron eagerly got into the leather harnesses and Art hoisted him up with the stout pulleys attached to the equally stout hooks embedded in the thick wooden beams above. Art's set up could probably hold a ton of weight if the leather straps wouldn't give way first. Ron LOVED being suspended and having Art's big dick forced up his asshole without any lubricant. He grunted and growled and changed into hybrid Bear form.
I had wondered why the straps were a little loose. Art had always had me put the harnesses and handcuffs on him AFTER he had changed. I learned that Ron liked to grow into them especially if they were just a little too tight when he was in hybrid form. After he changed, Art told me to get the red leather muzzle off of the rack, it was specially designed for Ron and had his name hand-tooled into it. Ron resisted as I tried to put it on him. Art roared curses at him for being a disobedient Bear as he changed into a Bear himself. Ron, still unmuzzled, was in ecstasy. He was the Bad Bear that needed to be whipped into accepting the muzzle. Ron's enormous Bear dick was throbbing and oozing out plenty of pre-cum, he was growling and roaring as Art beat him with a flail, twisted Ron's balls and fucked him even harder. Finally Art had whipped his chest enough so that Ron was satisfied and ready for the muzzle.
"Muzzle the beast," Art ordered, growling around his cigar and puffing out little clouds of smoke, "...and get me a leather thong after you're finished." I muzzled Ron as Art slow fucked him. I felt like 'Igor' in Doctor Frankenstein's sexology lab. I got the thong and art wrapped it several times around the top Ron's ball sack at the base of his dick. Ron growled in pleasure, his claws curled and flexed like a cat that's being petted. "Bring me another cigar, son and light it for me. You and I are gonna fuck this bad stud Bear at both ends... and don't be gentle." Ron growled through the muzzle when he heard that and Art pumped the horny Bear's cock with his hands. I brought Art the cigar, bit off the end and spat it out, lit it up for him and put it in his mouth. "Go on and fuck that horny old Bear's face, son. While you're at it, suck him off, he's about ready to shoot, has been all morning."
I put my cock into the front of the muzzle and found that it was slack just enough to allow Ron to suck my dick. He worked my dick over in his mouth and I returned the favor by swallowing his rod whole in one gulp. Art played with Ron's balls and gently scratched the erogenous zones behind my ears with his claws. I began changing then and the scratching became more vigorous as my new form could take the increased roughness. I felt Ron's muzzle grow cramped by the increase in my size. Ron must have REALLY liked the feeling of being tightly bound because he roared in pleasure. This, of course, felt wonderful with my cock firmly planted in his talented muzzle. "That's what I like to see," Art growled. "Two gorgeous Werebears fucking like wild beasts." Art began humping Ron faster and faster. Art's cigar glowed off and on and finally he pulled it out of his mouth and shoved the red hot end to the interior of Ron's right thigh. There was the smell of burning fur and Ron roared with my dick in his mouth. All three of us reached critical mass at once, trembling with pleasure and exploded inside of each other as if we were one organism in the throes of orgasm.
We separated and Ron began to change back. No longer half-man, half- Bear, he easily slipped out of the bonds and slipped to the gym mat on the floor beneath. The burn on his inner thigh was already beginning to disappear. We were all sweating as we changed back and I began licking the sweaty ringlets around Ron's nipples and in his pheromone drenched pits, occasionally biting his nipple. He still hadn't recovered from cuming; every time I bit a nipple, he growled and his cock would jerk. His eyes were glazed and his smile was pure bliss. I was spread over Ron's prone body pushing my cock into his freshly lubed hole when I felt Art open my cheeks and stuff his cum slicked cock up my ass. "I've got more in me, son; and your ass is damn convenient," he grunted. Art drove in hard and Ron was getting stiff again. We went on like that for a good twenty minutes more. Art would burn Ron here and there and Ron would growl. Art had me lick the fresh burn and Ron would heal even faster. With no trace of a wound later except Ron had little patches on his body where the skin had healed, but the fur hadn't yet grown back. Art was pumping me hard and Ron and I were tongue fucking each other's mouths when Art came, bucking violently and set us off again. It was a chain reaction; Art came in me which triggered my orgasm which in turn caused Ron to shoot his load all over his furry chest. Art pulled me off of Ron and Papa and I both tongue bathed him, milking his rod for the very last drops of Bear Honey. Ron snatched the cigar quickly from Art and took a few drags, it was his now, signifying that burn-play time was over.
"That felt so damn good! You're hired, kid." He chuckled. "Hey, if you wanna get ahead you gotta give the boss head, right?" We all laughed at that. "Of course everyone on my Specialty Crew sleeps with each other AND me, were a real close bunch of Bears, so don't feel like sex was the reason I'm hiring you. I just like to kid around." He smiled warmly and gently pinched my cheek.
"Hey, now hold on there!" Art began with mock indignation. "I can vouch for how hard my Cub works," Art said. "He damn near put me to shame with all the chores he got done around here the first week out of his cast. He was repairing things I was gonna get around to ten years ago! He's been working his cute little Bear butt to the bone; pitching hay, mending fences, digging post holes, fixing loose boards in the barn, washing windows, filling in potholes and all sorts of things I was meaning to get to." He smiled wide and winked at me. "I, of course, was completely lazy and just let him. He refused to let me pitch in and get the job done any faster. So, I just sat down with a lawn chair, umbrella, a novel and case of good beer and watched my bare-chested, fur-covered, growin'-new muscles Cub work while I dozed in the heat. Every time he was ready for a break or lunch, I'd bring him into the barn, give him a cold one and something to eat, lick the excess sweat off of his furry body and fuck him silly!" They both laughed at that.
"I couldn't help it," I said, "I wanted to do something after being inactive for so long and..."
"...and you wanted to show your Papa just how big and strong you were getting and how much you love him. I know," Art said with a huge grin. I blushed furiously and they both laughed again.
"Well," Ron said, puffing on the cigar. "It's been a real nice afternoon and I'd love to stay for more food and fun, but I've got to be getting' back home. Jeff and I are goin' out to dinner after he gets back from the computer supply warehouse. He's upgradin' yet again! I'll never understand it; he's always got to have the latest gadget or fastest processor or the most 'gee whiz' somethin' or other. His computer is just over two years old and he wants to buy a new one!" Ron said, shaking his head and smiling. You could tell how much he loved Jeff by the joy in his eyes when he spoke of him.
We all showered, playing in the soap suds as we grabbed and tugged on each others ‘toys'. Afterward, we toweled each other off and horsed around snapping each other with the towels like junior high kids, and kissed a lot. We finally got around to getting dressed. Ron said his good-byes and reminded me to be at work at seven-thirty Monday morning.
Two weeks before I was to start work, Ron had come by and had brought a member of his Bear Crew along. He was an excellent mechanic and a really good looking Werebear. His name was Mark and he and I hit it off immediately. He looked to be about my age, thirty-five or so, but with Werebears, that was deceptive. He was fairly trim, for a Werebear, with bright golden hair and a slightly red gold beard. His torso and arm fur was the same bright gold as his hair and glowed in the sun. In fact, it wasn't until he stepped into the sun and it lit up all of his fur that you realized that he was just as furry as almost ANY Bearman. As it turned out he was the youngest guy on the crew at sixty and was indeed the last 'Cub' to have been hired. I was going to have to get used to the idea of living for centuries rather than decades.
Mark had been working on cars and trucks since the mid 30's and had kept up on all the changes in automobiles. That's what he does; read car manuals and restore classic cars. They're classic cars NOW, they were the NEW models of his youth or what would have been his youth if he were still human. As Werebear's measure life he was still just a kid. Cars were definitely how Mark had fun; well, that, among other things. He'd worked out mnemonic devices for remembering the ways in which the different parts of a car went together and worked with each other. He tried teaching me some of them and, of course, I knew them backward and forward in no time at all... right! He and I worked on my car and he gave me quite a few tips for keeping it running well.
"When you start work, I'll show you the ropes. It's kind of a tradition, the last Cub trains the new Cub. The other guys help too, but I'll show you everything you need to know. I'll teach you about everything from framing houses and roofing to driving trucks and pouring cement. We do all kinds of work, hanging sheet rock, plastering, painting, landscaping and plumbing... just about anything to do with building or fixing houses. We even do demolition, not with explosives, of course. We get in there with bulldozers and sledgehammers. The Twins LOVE to use sledgehammers and we all love to see them to it. They get so much fun out of smashing stuff up. Almost anything gets them hard but Frank and Gus get really worked up when they're smashing down an old building.”
“They like to work in hybrid form when they're doing that, so of course they're naked. I've seen Gus, pounding away at a wall: big old cigar in his teeth and a huge hard-on bobbing every which way. He stopped for a moment and without even touching himself, shot a couple of loads all over the floor. Frank of course couldn't take it after that. He stopped and wrestled Gus to the floor and fucked him right there. It made me pretty horny too, watching the twins fuck and before you knew it I was shoving my meat up Franks ass; we were all fucking. Henry, he's the foreman, came in while we were fucking and just started busting up. He said he should have known better that to put the two of them on demolition at the same time. Of course, Henry joined in.
“Henry, or 'Hog' as he likes to be called, is taller than the rest of us. Hog's a huge red bushy bearded Scotsman with green eyes. He came over from Scotland many decades ago and still has a bit of an accent, but usually only when he's mad or drunk. I love it when he wears his kilt and so do the rest of the guys. If you've ever been to any of the ‘Highland Games' events, you'll know what I mean. Lot's of big furry bearded Keltic men. Well, Hog is one of the biggest. He's 7'2". Most of us are about 6 and a half, some a little more some a little less. Hog is a giant even among us. At Den Gatherings, that's a gathering of all of us Bears for a holiday, he sometimes picks up George. George is the smallest of us. George lifts up his kilt as Hog's lifting George up and then Hog lowers him down on his cock and grabs George's cute furry butt. George wraps his legs around Hog's middle and his arms around his neck and they fuck standing up. Sometimes Ron sticks his cock up Hog's ass and it's the three of them fucking. It would wipe Hog out if he weren't a Bearman, but stamina is something we seem to have a lot of. George is built like a tank at 5'8". He's incredibly stocky and dense looking. He's so stocky he almost looks like a cube. We call him Dwarf because he's so compact looking AND he has this long gray-brown beard that he forks and braids like Gus does. He and the twins ride together and hang out at the biker bars a lot."
Mark and I talked all during the time we were fixing the car. I learned all of the Crew's names and a few of their quirks and I'm sure Mark was going to give them a full report about me. I'm sure everyone was curious about the new 'Baby Bear Brother'. I'd get my chance to put faces to the new names soon. There was 'Hog' of course who ran the show. Then there were the twins, Gus and Frank and George or 'Dwarf'. There were Rich and Ken who operated the heavy machinery most of the time. Todd who was the clown of the group, always playing jokes and telling them too. Todd instigated the jokes and got the rest of the guys to join in. Donald or "Grumpy" because, even though he's a nice guy, he's grouchy and a natural target for Todd. Todd always gets a smile out of him though, apparently. Phil and Rich who became Crew Cubs only days apart and were the Cubs until Mark joined years later. That's eleven in all, counting Hog and I was going to be number twelve, the new 'Cub'.
After the car was in good running order, and it purred like I remembered it doing when it was new, Mark and I went and took a shower together. We scrubbed each other down and made ourselves rather horny. After a lot of groping, kissing and foreplay we fucked each other like we were rutting stags in the shower. He changed into a beautiful golden Bear and I imagined that this was what California Golden Bears must have looked like before the ignorant savage monkey-boys of the last couple of centuries hunted them into extinction. Art and Ron were still down in the basement making a bunch of noise and beating the shit out of each other with their toys, so we kicked back and watched the game, chatted about this and that and had a few beers. I was growing very close to Mark. There was a gentleness about him and he wasn't afraid to show it. Ron came up from the basement with welts all over, a big bulge in his pants and a huge grin around his ever present cigar.
"Come on Mark, I gotta get home and put this swollen cock of mine to use! Jeff's gonna love how worked up I am. He's been out of town since last week and I've been abstaining from sex just so our reunion would be that much nicer." He had a lust filled gleam in his eye and Mark was grinning too.
"OK, we gotta go. I'm not going to be responsible for keeping this horny old Bear from his bed and his Bear," Mark said.
After they had left I asked Art, "What was that all about?"
"He had me beat the tar out of him." Art said. "I tortured him with cigars, clamps and paddles. I sucked him off, fuck him up the ass and then ate my own sperm out of his throbbing hole. He beat me until I came from pent up pleasure and he never ONCE came himself." Art said, "He's brought himself to the brink every day, three times a day for the last week and hasn't cum yet. He's mastered incredible control of his body and lust. Man! I'd love to be Jeff tonight. He's going to fuck him unconscious." Art was chuckling and began to fondle my crotch. "Follow me upstairs, my little Honey Bear." His lust filled grin warmed my heart. "I'm pretty damn horny myself after all of that and I KNOW you can help me with that!" He pinched and gently swatted my butt all the way up the stairs and I giggled like a kid all the way.
I wasn't into pain or humiliation and Art respected that, but I did love for him to play the stern, but not too stern, 'Papa Bear.' I'd seen Art as the gentle 'Teddy Bear Papa' and even the 'Sweet Child-like Bottom' who needed being held, comforted and protected with me to the 'Domineering Self-serving Fucking-Ursine-Bastard' with some of the other Bears. With Ron, he was somewhere between the two extremes. Kind of the 'Circus Animal Trainer' to Ron's misbehaving 'Bad Bear'. Art knew all the guy's preferences and could change to suit any of them in a heartbeat and many of them could change to suit others as well.
The alarm clock read 5:00 AM. It was my first day of work and I had about an hour or so commute. I thought about getting a motorcycle for the commute, a Harley someday, probably a Honda first. I could save a lot of time and gas going around or between cars on the freeway. But that would have to wait until I got enough money together.
I pulled myself off of Art's dick and he half woke. I loved to go to sleep in that big Bear's arms with his huge hybrid dick up my ass. I kissed him, told him I loved him and I'd see him later on tonight and headed for the bathroom. Art growled out of his muzzle sleepily, "Love you too, Max, see you tonight." Then he rolled over and went back to sleep. God it was hard to leave that Bearman! I wanted to crawl right back into bed and snuggle down into his furry arms and chest again.
I crawled into the shower and thought about my new job, new friends and more new friends I was about to make. It really was like being adopted into a large caring family: a real family that cared about you. I told Ron that I didn't have any money to give to Mark for what he had done. My time to give back would come, Ron assured me, so I shouldn't feel guilty about accepting help. Families helped each other. Mark and Ron's willingness to help reminded me that I was now part of their family. For almost all of the Werebears, their human relatives had died off or become extremely remote great, great grand nieces/nephews a very long time ago. Even if they were alive, like mine, after the metamorphosis those who had become Werebears would have changed so dramatically that their families wouldn't recognize them on sight. If they managed to convince them that they were their brother or son or whatever, they'd probably ostracize, demonize, insist on trying to cure or report them. The end result was always that, once you become a Werebear, you give up your human family.
For me, that was just fine. I like my sister, Cynthia, but she IS ten years my senior and we were never very close. My brother Russell is another story. He is only two years older than I am and we were really close... once. When mom and dad died in the car crash I turned to him for comfort and I made a small and damning confession. When I told him I was gay the look on his face tore my heart out. He looked like he needed to wash slime off of him. He refused to speak with me ever again. He even tried to have me excluded from the funeral. I found out through my sister that he considers me dead and wants no further contact with me. Apparently, homosexuality is against his God's law. I wonder which God sat him down and told him that?
It doesn't matter; I told myself, I've got a ton of new brothers who like me just the way I am. But my heart still felt the cold knife of rejection that Russell had stabbed me with all those years ago. Eventually, I tell myself, it won't hurt anymore. Part of me knows that's going to be a long time from now. I wonder how many of my Bear Brothers have had similar daggers pierce their hearts.
By 5:45 I was out of the door and on the road. The commute was, as all are, boring even with the radio on. When traffic brought my car to a halt. I'd sit and cruise for Bears. There were quite a few in one of the white four door pick-up trucks that contracting companies use. Each and every guy in the truck was a flannel clad Bear; two of them were nicely dark bearded and rather beefy, the other two were moderately well muscled one had a ginger red goatee and one had a thick bushy blond mustache that grew down to his chin on either side. My cock was straining at my fly to be free. But I knew better. They were human, probably straight and as such, off limits in my book. Werebears and humans CAN and DO make love, but always with at least two condoms on and the Werebear never changes from his human form. We can't take the risk of our secret getting out. For all the human knows, he just had the best sex he's ever had with the biggest furriest Bear he's ever met, never knowing how much of a real Bear his partner really was.
Turning the entire male population of the world into Werebears, or trying to, would be impractical and alert humanity to our presence among them. Also, not all humans are suited to being Weres. Doc was lucky in my case, as Sam was in his; we were already Weres at heart. Humans also have a tendency to like to make those species that are threats to them go extinct and faced with ‘absorption', humans could become very vicious. The last thing we need is some 'holy war' against Werebeasts; we're few enough in number as it is. Those accounts you read about from the middle ages are mostly some poor psychotic wretch that the villagers caught… but some of the accounts are actual Were history. Some of the Norse accounts of men, the Berserks, changing into Bears are real. But that society didn't see Werebears as a threat to their population. No matter which phenotype you are, rule number one for Werebeasts is, "Don't reveal yourself, unless you making a new member of your subspecies."
I pulled over to a deserted rest stop because I just had to jerk off. Thinking about those ancient Nordic hunks and those guys in the truck had fueled my need. I also didn't have time this morning to make love with Art like I usually did. Art was right, at the moment I WOULD fuck anything with a hole.
After relieving myself of a certain amount of pent up tension and taking a visit to the restroom, I got back on the road and arrived at the work site around 7:00. This gave me thirty minutes to look around and find "Hog". From his description, I wasn't going to be able to miss him or mistake him for anyone else.
I no sooner than pulled up to the site, parked my car, and was locking it up when two black and silver Harleys pulled into the space next to me. The guys on them were huge and WOOFY! Silver and black beards, muscle, tattoos, leather and denim everywhere, scuffed black square-toed boots, sunglasses and cigars. They got off and hung their black helmets, the ones that look like the WWII German army helmets, on their scoots. Both of them stretched and yawned, looked over at me and grinned widely.
"You gotta be Max," the one with the silver forked beard removed the cigar from his mouth and growled out in a gruff and slightly intimidating tone. Then he chuckled softly smiling warmly to let me know I was in good company. "You're one fine lookin' Cub." The slightly taller one with the bushy black beard said, puffing on his cigar. I smiled broadly and approached the silver bearded Bear with my hand out to shake, I noticed that their bulges had grown since getting off of their Harleys.
"You guys have got to be Gus and Frank." My own bulge was increasing as I went to clasp hands with Gus. Gus clasped my forearm. His paw palm touching the underside of the middle of my forearm. He squeezed my arm gently and I clasped his arm in the same manner and squeezed. He drew me to his chest, with our right arms between us and wrapped his other arm around my shoulder, patting me on the back. I repeated the gesture and we hugged like we'd known each other forever.
"I'm Gus,” he said as we parted and grinned an evil grin. I went to shake Frank's hand and Gus introduced us. "Tall and ugly there's my mate, Frank."
Frank laughed softly. "You just keep that up," he said as we clasped arms and hugged in the same manner as before, "and you'll have to find someone else to get your Teddy Bear for you, tuck you in and read you a story."
Gus laughed as we parted. "Hell, love, if you'd do all of that for me, I wouldn't be so fuckin' grumpy the next morning."
"He is too," Frank said. "like some mean ol' Bear comin' out of hibernation and hasn't taken a shit in six months. But, a big little somethin' up his ass after he's finished pissin' and he's my Teddy Bear again."
"Welcome to the family little brother!" Gus said as he put his big warm callused paw on my shoulder. "We'er your big mean' brothers...”
“Mean to everyone that deserves it, li'l bro', but never our family!" Frank finished. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Hog."
"Why do you guys call him Hog'?"
“Cause," Gus explained as he chewed on his cigar, "he's the biggest Boar Bear of us all and he's a real pig for all kinda kinky stuff, 'cept shit. He ain't into shit. Big adult male Bears are called Boars and ever one of us, including you, could be called a ‘Boar Bear'. In fact, the word Boar comes from Bear. Hog's big in all ways; especially big-hearted."
"Yeah, he's a real softy," Frank chuckled, "but never his dick."
We walked over to the trailer that was the site office. I went inside first with Gus and Frank close behind. The man behind the desk was a monstrously sized Bear and looked in age to be about 45 or so. He looked like a classic Scotsman: big bushy dark red beard with grey patches on the chin, flame red hair graying at the temples, fair complexion, freckles, green eyes and an incredible intensity in those eyes. He was dressed in a faded black T-shirt that must have been XXXXXXXXXXL and it was still stretched tightly over his huge biceps and pecs. He had a beer belly of moderate size and it filled out the T- shirt nicely. His faded jeans were well worn in all the right places and just a little tight, especially the crotch. He wore a huge pair of engineer boots that showed the wear of work; and from what I understood of Hog from Ron, he worked with his Bearmen quite often. The man simply couldn't stay behind a desk.
"Hello, lad!" His deep voice boomed. "And I suppose you'd be the new Cub on my crew. Max, isn't it?" he said without a trace of an accent but with the structure and word choice of a Highlander. I nodded mutely in awe, as he stood. He came around the desk reached out a gargantuan paw covered in fur that ran from the first knuckles up to the sleeve and disappeared up it. He took my right forearm as the Satyr Twins had and hugged the stuffing out of me. It felt really good, especially his crotch, which was nestled against my belly. "Well, lad, are you ready for work?" He smiled widely and there was a gleam in his eyes.
"Yes, I'm ready and eager to get started." I said.
The two Bearmen behind me hooted and laughed. "We're pretty damn eager for you to get started too, li'l bro'," Gus growled out.
"Right, you are," Hog said. "So what you need to do is get into the next room and shed your clothes. Have you ever been tied up before?" Hog asked and I saw a slight shiver go through him as he said it.
"No," I said, "but I'm open to new things."
The twins were howling and busting up. "Damn, kid." Frank said. "You're a walking open line. But, that's OK, I think we're gonna get along just fine." He said as he rubbed his crotch and repositioned his cock.
"Yep," Gus said. "I like you a whole bunch already and I ain't even had my dick in your mouth yet." He was beginning to unbuckle his huge custom sterling silver Harley Davidson Wings logo buckle and unbutton his 501's. These three tasty Werebears were going to be the first to fuck me this morning and I had no doubt that they'd be the last this evening with the rest of the crew screwing me all day long. I'd been looking forward to servicing this many Bears for the last four months and now I trembled with anticipation.
Hog walked over to the door, took out a set of keys and unlocked the door. "Welcome to the 'Bear Pit', lad. No Bear has ever entered this room, knowing what was in here, without a smile on his face." He grinned widely as he opened the door.
"Yeah, and no Bear has ever left that room without a shit eating grin on his face, like the one Hog's got now," Gus growled out as he pinched my ass. "Get on in there, li'l bro', I'm horny as Hell, but that ain't nothin' new," Gus chuckled.
"But your cute little Cub ass IS new and that's why my old man here's droolin' like a Bear for honey!" Frank said and we all laughed.
As I entered the room, lit by a fluorescent ceiling light, I was enveloped by the incredibly heady male scent that permeated everything. It was the smell of sweat, musk and sex mixed in with beer, leather and gym socks. Cigars and a little old piss were mixed in too and added a spicy tang to the atmosphere. The room was masculine: there's just no other way of describing it. The carpet was stained and scorched in places. The windows had been covered with plywood for privacy and various leather goodies hung from pegs on the plywood. On the wall opposite of the door was a chalk board. In the middle of the room was a double sized bed with a filthy sheet that reeked of the previously mentioned odors. All three of them began to strip in a hurry.
"Let's be about your work then, lads," Hog said. "Max, you need to know a few things first. You've been told that the lads are going to be having you all day long for the next six days, is that right?" he said soberly.
"Yes." I said. "I've been looking forward to it."
"Well," Hog said, "we need to know a few things about your preferences firstly. Some guys want to be total slaves and others want to play a more active role. We Bears care greatly about each other and don't want to do anything to you that you don't want done. With that in mind… what DON'T you want done to you?" he asked.
"Well, I really don't like scat, humiliation, servitude, drag or torture. I can handle a certain amount of pain if it's just grabbing, tweaking and biting. In fact, I really like biting especially the nipples and the head of my cock. I've experience being tied up and blindfolded and liked that too. I like tickling, oils, and enjoy taking it in both ends at once and might like piss, but I don't know yet. The rest I'll have to find out about," I said.
"I like your spirit of adventure and appreciate your trust. You should know that we will never betray that trust. We're your family. The chalk board over there will list your likes and dislikes for any and all whom you fuck or fuck you. This week is important because we are getting to know you and we are finding out, together, your preferences. How would you like to be tied down?" He said. "Spread eagle on my back will do for starters." I replied. They all laughed. "Missionary it is then." Hog chuckled as he fisted his enormous cock. He began fucking my ass as Gus opened my mouth with a kiss and then promptly shoved his fat dick down my throat. Frank wrote down my likes and dislikes and then started to bite me in various places.
So it began, my first week at work. The days seemed to fly by that first week as each of the Bearmen came in and had sex. Gus and Frank were frequent visitors as were Ron and Hog. I was taking a crash course in fetishes and learning not only my likes and dislikes, but theirs too.
Throughout the week the lists on the board grew for likes, dislike, ambivalent, and undecided. I surprised myself with the things I found I liked. That first week was an incredible introspective learning time. Between sessions, I'd lie there thinking about what turned me on and why I didn't like certain things. I learned a lot about myself and the others. Hog would help by just talking about the reasons with me and I began to see how my life had shaped me, sexually and otherwise. I also realized that the bonds of friendship and love were growing ever stronger between myself and the other Bearmen. Each night I would return home to Art and, after dinner and making love, I'd talk about what I'd learned that day before I fell asleep with his comforting cock up my ass and his arms around me. The training for the actual work portion of my job would start soon enough and my crew mates would be just as happy to teach me about construction as they were about teaching me about sex. I'd grown to love each and every one of them.
A brand new life had begun for me and I was looking forward to the coming centuries.
Copyright © 2000-2004 - Bjorn Torson
Any and all re-use prohibited without explicit permission.