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.