Meyers and Sons Paint and Auto Body
by
Papa Werebear and Ursus Majr
Chapter
11
Olaf
returned to the table with a huge grin on his face.
Ron
just had to ask, “What’s that canary-eating grin for, Uncle
Bear”?
Olaf
sat, picking up the beer he’d ordered for before the meal arrived
he took a long pull on it, and said, “The biker I gave my card to
met me in the bathroom, his name is Casey, and he’s a damn good
kisser. Asked me what I was doing this weekend and I told him about
'Gars ‘n’ B’ars. He and his buddies are headed up north on a
bare bones camping trip, you know, ‘Rough it like a man, just a
tarp for a tent and your knife’ stuff. He said my thing sounded
more fun and comfortable, and asked if maybe he could join us if it
was OK. So, of course I said it was OK.” Olaf took another pull
from his beer and grinned even wider than before.
Ron
rolled his eyes and Quinn chuckled. The appetizers arrived then and
when the server left, Olaf continued.
“So,
he’s going to fake an illness, ditch his buddies, and join us in a
couple of hours. Says he’ll catch up to us on the road. I told
him what route we’d be taking and told him to look for my bike, he
couldn’t miss it. He says, ‘The big one that looks like you
butchered a bear and glued it to an ape sized Harley, right?’ and I
told him that was not the most flattering description I’d ever
heard, but it was accurate. He said he could spot that on a moonless
night on a dark country road, and that he’d find us.”
“Sounds
like you got another companion for your bed,” Quinn said a bit
sourly.
Olaf
patted the trucker on the shoulder, “Aww, buddy, it ain’t like
that. You know sex with us is a ‘more the merrier’ kind of deal.
Besides, I saw how you were checkin’ Casey out, I bet you were
measuring his butt hole for your cock just like I was.
Quinn
laughed, “I suppose I was at that”.
“Actually,
he’s interested in playing with all three of us, I told him it’s
in fact four, because Charlie hasn’t showed up yet. He thought you
both were seriously hot.”
Quinn
brightened a little at that. “So… two queen sized beds in your
room. You’re going to need one to yourself as big as you are…
that means me and Casey…”
Olaf
grinned, “We’ll get to know each other in the biblical sense,
yes; after I’ve romped with you both
enough and need a bit of a nap, or head over to Ron and Charlie’s
room.”
“OK,
I’m good with that,” Quinn said and stuffed a jalapeño popper in
his mouth and smiled.
“Anyway,
he asked what Charlie looked like and I said, ‘Imagine that hairy,
white bearded fucker back at my table. The biker who looks like Bad
Santa”
“HEY!
You did NOT just call me Santa”! Ron interjected.
Olaf
smiled impishly. “Yes I did. You look like the hot sexy fat man,
and so does big brother Charlie, only a bit wilder… you pay more
attention to grooming… actually, he looks more like redneck, hung
over Bad Santa. Besides, you don’t seem to mind around the
holidays when some cute, lil’ bearded Cub wants to sit on Santa’s
lap, hold his sack, and rub the ‘North Pole’ up and down, now do
you?”.
Ron
smacked Olaf’s shoulder only because from his seated position he
couldn’t reach his head.
Olaf
continued, “…and so I said, that’s my brother Charlie’ and
then he said, ‘Wild, redneck, Santa, eh? And Bad Santa too? Oh, I
feel a case of food poisoning coming on… I just know I’m gonna
have to tell my buddies that I hurled in the John and I’m gonna
check into a motel, then head home when I feel better.”
Olaf
paused, a popper on the brink of being devoured in front of his
bearded lips, “By the way, where IS Charlie, shouldn’t he be here
by now, even if he did stop to fuck someone or more than someone?”
“I
don’t know, but I think after dinner we need to maybe start
looking,” Ron said, “Maybe head back down the way he came up, see
if he’s stranded… or worse. I’ve called his phone three times
already and it must be off, because it goes right to voicemail”.
“I
don’t think it’s a good idea to backtrack his route. We can
check online to see if there’s been any accidents on the way up to
here. I think it’s better to get to the hotel and wait a bit,
because if we go looking he’s going to get to the hotel and we
won’t be there when he is. Better to be where he expects us to be
when he finally shows up,” Quinn said, and took a sip of beer.
“I
suppose,” Ron said, “but he hasn’t been late to anything like
this in decades. Last time he was this late it was his bike and that
dirty carburetor, remember? But I doubt that’s it now, I checked
his ride over myself last week, gave it a full tune up. It’s
probably running better than mine is… wonder what the Hell is
keeping him? If it were sex, he’d send pics to brag; this just
ain't like him.”
“Maybe
he just got tired and decided to pull over at a motel?” The others
shrugged. “Maybe before we leave town, we’ll go check that
no-tell motel on Bryant Road he likes to take his last minute
playmates to, maybe they’ve seen him,” Olaf suggested as the
server arrived with the entrées and more beers for the meal.
“OK,
we’ll do that, but you know how tight lipped they are,” Ron said.
“Oh,
I think I might get them to talk, size and demeanor have their
advantages,” Olaf said and flexed his right bicep for emphasis and
it bulged into a muscle bigger than most men’s heads.
Ron
smiled. “OK, after we check, if they haven’t seen him, we’ll
head for the hotel,” Ron said, feeling a bit better about the
situation now that they’d talked it out and had a plan.
At
that moment, Casey hurried past their table in the direction of the
bathroom, giving Olaf a wink as he passed.
“Aaaand
ACTION!” Olaf said quietly, and laughed. “I think my new buddy
Casey, there, just came down with a case of the stomach flu”. Ron
and Quinn chuckled as they dug into their meals.
In
the bathroom, Casey made for a stall and made a bit of a show
pretending to puke, enough to cause the couple of guys that were in
the bathroom when he entered to leave. One of his biker buddies came
in after to ask if he was OK and Casey said he’d let him know.
When his buddy left, he briefly considered giving his raging hard-on
some relief, but decided to save up for what promised to be a very
satisfying romp with the sexiest big, bearded fuckers he'd seen in
ages. He exited the stall, made for a urinal, unzipped, fished his
rigid cock out, and willed himself to relax so he could empty his
bladder. After a few moments his stream started, strong, yellow, and
noisy. One of the restaurant employees came in and took the other
urinal, next to Casey. He looked over, nodded in appreciation, and
said, “Sometimes a really good piss is just what the doc ordered,
innit?”
“A'yup,”
Casey nodded, tucked his now only semi-rigid meat back in his jeans,
washed his hands, and headed back out as the employee finished his
business. He was going to go back to the table and give a
performance for his friends so they’d believe him when he said he
was sick, so he could ditch them for what he hoped would be the best
sex he’d had in years.
As
Charlie put his helmet on and got ready to start his hawg up and lead
Reece, the ex-cop, to the motel on
Bryant, he felt a bit light headed. His
hands and feet felt a bit numb and he was feeling high and drunk at
the same time. The next thing he knew, Reece was asking if he felt
alright.
“I’m…
uh… Feelin’ lil’… uh… high…” Charlie responded.
“Well,
you just had a couple of beers…” Royce offered as an
explanation, but was interrupted by the silver bear.
“But…
I coulda had ten an’ not feel it, I think… I’m gettin’…”
“Let’s
get you to my truck, let you sit a bit. Get you some water,” Royce
said.
And
he helped Charlie stagger over to his pickup and sat him down. He
gave him a bottle of water and Charlie took a large drink from it.
He made a face and said, “Tastes like a copper penny.”
“Yeah,
tap water at my place is kinda high in minerals,” Royce said, “You
should finish it, it doesn’t taste that great, but it’ll keep you
hydrated”.
Charlie
was more than a little suggestible at this point and downed the rest
of the bottle of colloidal sliver. He was beginning to yawn, his
eyes were drooping, and Royce put his legs in the car. By the time
he’d fastened the seat belt Charlie was almost out.
“Thank
ye kindly, Reece… don’t know why…” and he slumped against the
back of the seat, head tilted back. Charlie was out like he’d been
given an anesthetic. Royce adjusted the seat so the Bear was leaning
back comfortably. He snored lightly as Royce loosened his vest,
opening the clasps that held it together so Charlie would be more
comfortable.
“Ol’
Reece will take good care of you, Charlie, real good care of you,”
Royce said, taking the helmet from Charlie’s head, putting it at
his feet and shutting the door. He took the keys from Charlie’s
hands. He’d need them to get his bike on the trailer.
He’d
secured his prize, but now was not the time to get careless. He put
his leather gloves on as he didn’t want to leave fingerprints on
Charlie’s bike. He looked around the lot for any observers; there
was a family, mom, dad, and two pre-teen boys loading up in their
SUV. The couple from the bar, headed to what Royce assumed was the
man’s car; the woman still had her nose in her phone and their
backs were to Royce as they walked further away. No one was paying
him any mind at all and there were no cameras watching this side of
the lot.
He
lowered the ramp on his trailer and, mounted Charlie’s bike, and
rode it up and onto his trailer. In less than ten minutes Charlie’s
bike was covered with a tarp, beside his own, and secured. Royce
paused and looked at his watch. It was 7:37 in the evening; it would
be dark not too long from now and he’d have to rely on his GPS to
get him to the place. He desperately wanted to take out a cigar and
light up, but no; he would save that reward for when all was
finished. He needed to focus and careless traces of ash were not
smart. It’s why he’d had his truck detailed. It was squeaky
clean and had many less trace fibers than it might have had. He
returned to the passenger side of his truck and clipped the key ring
to the chain on Charlie’s belt that secured his wallet.
He
closed the door and paused to think. He was sure he could find the
place he wanted even if his GPS failed up here. Royce was good at
landmarks, and he’d memorized the route in the preceding months.
He’s scouted out a barn some months back among other places he’d
looked into using within a thirty mile radius of the restaurant. The
one he’d chosen was secluded, the next house being at least three
miles down the stretch of two lane highway, ten miles from the little
town of Mill Creek. Mill Creek had a gas station, small grocery, and
a post office, and was quite a ways from the nearest town of any real
size. The place was out in the sticks, literally surrounded by
pastureland and national forests.
The
owner was elderly and wheelchair bound and it looked like it had been
awhile since he’d been able to raise cattle. Indeed, his land had
not been used in some years and looked as though the forest was
starting to reclaim it.
When
he’d asked about buying the barn and the property and using it for
horses and cattle, the ol’ guy had said it wasn’t for sale right
now, but he’d been considering doing just that himself. He’d
offered that he hadn’t been down to the barn in more than a decade,
ever since he’d lost the use of his legs, and that it likely leaked
and might be too dangerous to use without serious repairs, so he was
thinking about getting it looked at by someone, to see if it could be
salvaged. Royce said he’d be back in a couple of weeks to see if
the old guy had changed his mind, but that he was definitely
interested in the place.
Royce
came back later that night after the lights at the farmhouse, a half
mile from the barn, were out. It would be perfect. Despite what the
old man might think about the condition of his barn, though it was
leaky as evidenced by clumps of grass growing in spots on the dirt
floor, it was also sound and mostly obscured from view of the house
by a small copse of trees between it and the barn. Better yet, the
area where he’d park when he would need its use was obscured from
the road by a couple of small equipment sheds.
Royce
climbed into his truck, started it up, and headed for that secluded
barn he’d scouted. When he arrived, well after dark, the farmhouse
was quiet and all lights except a porch light were out. The old man
was likely sound asleep.
Charlie
was completely out and still snoring gently as he pulled his pickup
behind the barn to conceal it from view of the house. He’d managed
to secure an ambulance gurney from second hand medical supply place
on the net. It was simply amazing what you could find online. He’d
gone to great lengths to obscure any identifying information that
could be found on the device as he planned on leaving it behind in
the barn after he’d gotten what he needed. He’d again waited
until dark and stowed the gurney away in the barn just last week.
That was a risk, but Royce felt comfortable taking it. He went to
the barn door and opened it, hoping that no one had discovered it,
and sure enough, it was there, just as he’d left it. He looked
around once more to assure himself that there was no one around.
Satisfied, he wheeled the gurney around to his truck, stopped to
switch out his leather gloves for latex ones, and with a little
difficulty, managed to get the werebear onto the gurney, secure him
to it, and wheel him into the barn.
Royce
flipped a rather antique looking switch and a light bulb came to
life. He removed Charlie’s clothes, neatly putting them in a large
zip-top bag designed just for that purpose. He didn’t want traces
from the environment on the clothes.
He
took a moment to admire the werebear’s naked body. He was, quite
simply, beautiful! He was just like Ron, they could be brothers in
both their form and in their features. A full, thick, silver pelt of
man fur all over him, obscuring the tattoos underneath it. Thick,
full, long beard, although Charlie’s was wilder looking.
Well-developed brawn beneath a thick layer of padding. A beautiful
round belly and, of course his crowning glory, what had to be ten
inches of flaccid, thick meat resting atop two huge balls nestled in
a dense forest of silver fur. At a distance, the two could be
mistaken for twins. Royce had been hard since he left the
restaurant, and it had softened just a little while he drove, but it
had never completely gone away. Now, looking at this God that walked
among men, he was completely, and painfully hard. He indulged only a
half dozen strokes on the front of his pants before he cried out in
orgasmic pleasure as he shot a hot, thick load into the pouch of the
adult diaper he was wearing. Ron had thought of that too, he wanted
there to be no semen evidence. It was a needed release, and it
cleared his mind.
Royce
then hooked up the IV drip, prepared Charlie’s left arm, found a
vein, and began giving him the silver compound. It would keep
Charlie under for as long as he needed and likely it would keep him
under for a good three days after he took the drip out, which would
be more time than he needed.
Royce
then took the hair he’d gotten from the barber and scattered a
little of it around. Clumps would be suspicious, but traces, a few
here and there, would be evidence IF it came to that. He included a
few more on the werebear’s clothes he’d put in the bag.
He
took a blanket out of a sealed package, right from the department
store, and covered Charlie to keep him warm. There were more
preparations to be made before Royce could continue.
Bubba
was sound asleep, holding his new little brother Cody in his arms
after a rather pleasant fucking they’d shared. His golden blond
pelt covering his furry arms no less thickly than his Papa’s pelt
covered him. His meaty paw rested on Cody’s arm, covering the bear
paw and skull beneath the auburn pelt that matched his face fur.
Bubba had trimmed his long golden beard so that his chin was naked,
save for a layer of thick evening stubble, making for long mutton
chops. They connected to the thick ‘stache he’d let grow out to
walrus-like proportions and grew on the sides into his beard. The
‘stache had been braided into the two long chops. It was a
different look than most of his brothers sported, but he'd felt like
experimenting a month back and rather liked the look. It was a wild
and tribal look, especially with his long hair braided down the back,
and he felt fit. After all, he was
a member of a very close knit tribe.
On
the other side of Cody, Bubba's copper-red brother Nick with his
bushy, fiery red beard, lay cuddled up to Cody in the same protective
way Bubba was, looking for all the world like an avatar of Thor or a
Celtic chieftain. Cody’s face was nuzzled in Nick’s beard.
It
would have been a blissfully peaceful scene, had it not been that
both Bubba and Nick were both having a very unquiet dream. In fact,
the same dream.
It
wasn’t a nightmare, exactly. It was surreal, unnerving,
discomforting, and foreboding. It was night, and they were both in a
barn. An old outdoor lamp fixture hung overhead with an old
incandescent bulb, surprisingly bright, lighting up the scene. Each
was strapped to what looked like some sort of medieval torture
device, like a rack or a St. Andrew’s cross. The form of their
restraints seemed to morph between shapes, sometimes being a modern
hospital bed, sometimes large logs to which they were strapped, and
even a kitchen table. The bonds also morphed, sometimes
straitjackets, sometimes bondage leather, sometimes bound rubber
suits, or duct tape mummification or simple rope. Both knew that
they could change to their bear shapes and break their bonds easily,
but for some reason they were unable to. It was as if they were mere
humans again and unable to change into their greater shapes.
They
looked at each other, confused as to why they were there. They
didn’t need to wait long to find out. The barn doors opened and a
large machine rolled in, it was barrel shaped, and had two hoses
attached. It moved of its own accord, but following it was a tall
bearded man, his face obscured by a shadow so that neither of them
could see who he was. What they could see was that there was a star
upon his chest and it shone bright gold as if the tattoo ink were
fluorescent.
He
pointed and commanded “Take it from them!”, and the machine moved
between the restraining devices to which the brothers were strapped.
The hoses moved as though they were tentacles and as they watched,
the hoses split so that the ends were forked. They moved toward
their groins, snaking up their muscular, furry legs until the tips of
the hoses reached their cocks and balls. The end of the tube that
pushed against their balls grew wide and enveloped them, the other
end engulfed their flaccid cocks. After a moment of massage from the
end on their balls, they both felt the machine begin to suck. They
both grew hard, their need rising within them though neither of them
wanted to give the machine what it was trying to take. They watched
in horror as the machine begin to extract not only their seed, but
what both understood as their essence, their glowing energy. The two
cried out in fear and loss as they fed the machine, the viscous,
milky-white semen rising up the tubes in rhythmic jerks. But after
only a few orgasms, the machine detached from them. They both felt
weakened by the extraction.
They
then watched as a third tube emerged from the top of the machine.
The figure with the shadowed face said, “At last! At last I will
be complete!” and the single tube slithered up his hairy body and
attached to the glowing star over his sternum. It began filling him
with what it had taken from the two bears and they watched as he grew
taller, hairier, more powerful, more virile, and finally took the
form of an enormous grizzly. The Bear roared out in triumph, and
both Bubba and Nick awoke with a start.
They
looked at each other and both said, “I just had a nightmare.”
Cody
stirred and woke. “What?” he said groggily, but something was
wrong; both of the bears knew it. Instinctively, they knew that Ron
needed to know of this, and quickly.
Royce
removed the cover from Charlie. It'd take about a half hour to
remove the equipment he needed and set it up on tarps and hook the
devices up with extension cables to power outlets. Royce truly hoped
the power draw would not cause some antiquated fuse box to fry a
fuse, otherwise, he'd have to go about what he wanted to do the old
fashioned way. There was a device for stimulation, a collection tank
with a gallon and a half capacity with another half gallon overflow
tank which could also feed the contents from the tank out via a
separate tube. There were three, 100 ml hypodermic syringes and a
specially designed, rather large butt plug that had a tube built into
it with a one way valve. The purpose of this was to plug it in,
insert a hose into the plug, and pump fluids into the large
intestines so that they would not exit, but be absorbed. He made sure
everything was clean, the plug was lubed, and all was in working
order.
Finally
he took the carved cherry wood cigar box from the truck. Inside was
a supply of cigars, but also three artifacts from his collection.
The first of these was the Nordic silver medallion with the bear
chained to a rock on one side and the runic spell on the other, 'The
Inhibitor' as he thought of it. Next was the wide copper bracelet
set with the semiprecious stones and spirals, 'The Accelerator' as he
thought of it. Finally, the bronze cock ring with the carved bears
having sex, 'The Enhancer' as he thought of it.
The
first thing Royce did was to place the medallion around Charlie's
neck. He was pretty sure that the silver compound he'd given him
would keep the werebear from changing during the extraction, but
being who he was, Royce believed in back up plans. It would not do
for Charlie to shift shape in the middle of the procedure and become
conscious. Next, he placed the bronze cock ring at the base of
Charlie's cock. The reaction was immediate. Charlie's cock grew
excessively stiff, to the point of large pulsing veins standing out
prominently on what became what Royce estimated to be a fifteen inch,
three to four inch wide cock. Charlie, even in his sedated state,
grunted and moan in pleasure. Having worn the ring himself, knowing
how it made him, a mere human feel, he could only imagine how good it
was making Charlie feel in his sleep. Lastly, Royce put the jeweled
copper bracelet on himself. It was large enough to wear half way up
his muscular forearm, but he imagined that it wouldn't be long before
that bracelet would fit comfortably around his wrist.
All
was in readiness.
Royce
stood naked, except for his shoes, in the cool air of the barn. He
checked the settings on the control screen, no sense of risking the
collapse of the catheter or the bear's cocks, not that there was much
chance of the latter. He put on the latex gloves while the admired
Charlie's thick body. Naked on the gurney, the bear's thick, broad
shoulders extended over the edge of the gurney pad. His heavily
furred torso had the classic pronounced round bear belly that was
obviously backed with a strong layer of muscle. The fur extended in
an almost continuously thick pelt from neck to toes. Even the tops
of his feet were furred. The fleshy, flaccid cock lolled to one side,
lying on the top of the right thigh. The hood of uncircumcised skin
was only partially retracted, revealing only the very end of the tip.
He reached for the alcohol wipes to semi-sterilize the catheter. His
persistent hard-on throbbed as he wiped down the thin tube and
applied a small amount of Surgilube around the first inch of so of
the catheter.
The
machine made use of a sheath that covered about five inches of the
penis, and was fitted with a short catheter the went a few inches
into the shaft of the subject's penis. Electrodes around the sheath
provided some external electro-stim. A separate anal probe, shaped
like a thin butt plug, provided more pronounced stimulation to the
prostate.
Royce
took a deep breath to help center his mind, then reached for
Charlie's cock. He felt the heat even though his gloves and chucked
to himself as he thought, 'Hot fucker!' He skinned back the foreskin
so it cleared the coronal ridge. The stretching of the skin spread
open the slit just enough so he could begin the insertion. Charlie
grunted, then groaned, but otherwise remained in his comatose state.
Royce took his time, threading slowly and carefully, smearing more
Surgilube as need. Once he had enough of the tubing in place, he
rolled down the outer sheath over Charlie's organ. Charlie groaned
again, and his legs twitched some against the restraints.
Royce
rolled Charlie over onto one side then took the anal probe and lubed
it. Then, with one hand he raised one leg and thigh slightly and
gently inserted the butt plug into Charlie's rectum, being careful of
the wires on the penile sheath and the anal probe. This brought
forth a deep sigh from Charlie. Royce rolled Charlie back on his
back, and tugged gently on the tubing and sheath. It held. Time to
start the process.
Royce
turned the electro-stim on, it was programmed to begin with a gentle
electric stimulation and build to bring Charlie to climax. This
would happen in waves so that the werebear could be milked until
Royce had as much seed as he desired. With the bronze cock ring on,
he imagined the ol' bear would produce much more seed than would be
needed to change Royce, but Royce wanted more. Royce wanted to take
pleasure in partaking of the seed.
He
turned on the pumping machine, and then waited. It was a full
fifteen minutes before the first load exploded out of Charlie's cock
and emptied into the tank. During his orgasm, Charlie twitched,
moaned, and trembled, but he did not awake. Royce was now confident
that things would be as he had desired them, and he would be able to
collect all the semen he desired. Royce was desperate for a cigar,
but he was disciplined and would treat it as a well earned reward
when he was finished with the task he had set himself.
The
next ejaculation happened fifteen minutes later, but Royce noticed
that this time, the orgasm seemed to last longer. Intrigued, he
decided he would time how long Charlie's orgasms lasted. He
decreased the ramp up time on the electro-stim machine from fifteen
to 10 minutes. The cycle again repeated, and this time he timed
Charlie's orgasm. The bear shot for a good two minutes before the
fluid stopped flowing into the collector. Already, there was
probably two and a half cups of semen in the tank. This process
continued, and each time Charlie lasted longer, filling the tank with
more seed. Royce inspected Charlie's balls, cradling them in his
hand. Big as they'd been when he'd taken the opportunity to admire
the bear, he was sure they were growing. Now, they were the size of
small oranges, up from being the size of hen's eggs. He imagined
that Charlie's Cowper's gland and prostate had probably also grown to
accommodate the increased sperm production.
This
made Royce's mind race. Once he'd take Charlie's seed and become a
werebear, he too could wear this ring and oh, the fucking he would
give his sons! He would fill them with the bountiful flow from his
huge bear balls with mind-blowing extended orgasms!
The
milking process continued, and Charlie's balls continued to swell,
but eventually they leveled off. The two balls had grown in his
scrotum to the point that it looked as if he had two larger than
average oranges between his legs. The flow was now steady, and
Charlie was experiencing one continuous orgasm. The artifacts were
certainly doing their work.
Somewhere
around one in the morning, when the gallon and a half tank was full
and the machine shut off, Royce turned off the electro-stim, and
finally, Charlie was still. He'd sweated profusely and soaked the
sheets that were under him. The heady, musky smell of bear filled
the air of the barn and Royce was almost giddy with the scent. He
removed the sheath, but Charlie wasn't quite done yet. His cock shot
a thick load all over Royce's face as he removed the tube. Shocked
by the unexpected hosing, he opened his mouth just in time for a
second shot to splatter over his chest. He realized that Charlie was
still under the spell of the cock ring, and so removed it. At last,
Charlie lay still and seemed to go into a deeper stage of sleep.
Royce
set the ring down on the sheet between Charlie's legs, and began
rubbing the bear's seed all over his face, into his beard, an all
over his torso.
He
looked at the tanks on the machine, full of werebear seed. Now, at
last, he could take the seed into himself. He opened the container
and filled the three syringes with werebear cum and closed the
container. This was only the start, the musky smell of bear cum all
over him had him raging hard. He then took the filled syringes and
began injecting the seed into his sack. 300 ml of werebear cum
filled his scrotum and inside that rounded sack, his testicles
marinated in the potency of a superior being. He expected that the
hypodermic needle would leave a hole that would allow the seed to
escape, but as soon as he removed the needle, there was only a slight
oozing of thick white fluid, and then the hole apparently sealed, as
he couldn't even find a trace of where it had been after he rubbed
the cum off his balls.
Next,
Royce attached the special butt plug to the hose for pumping the
tanks out and then inserted it into his hole. He struggled a bit
with that. It had been years since the last time anyone had fucked
him, and even though he occasionally used a dildo and had been
stretching himself in preparation for this, it was still a tight fit.
That was, however, just what he'd wanted. He didn't want there to
be any leaking, he wanted to keep the seed inside until his body had
assimilated it all. Once he'd inserted it, he was ready and switched
the pump on. The seed began traveling down the tube and the air
release valve on the tube was opened so that air would not be pumped
up his ass. Once the seed was almost at the release valve, Royce
shut it, and the semen began flowing into his gut. He watched and
felt as his gut filled. He could feel it bloating him slightly, and
he rubbed his belly as it gurgled. The seed was still warm. He
stroked himself gently, and almost immediately his hard cock shot a
load that he caught in his own fist. He quickly consumed his cum and
what was left he rubbed into his chest hair to join the seed Charlie
had shot on him. When a gallon of cum had been pumped into Royce's
guts, he turned the pump off. He rubbed his distended belly with
pleasure, feeling Charlie's seed slosh inside of him. He smiled and
admired it for several moments, rubbing it in the way pregnant women
rub their bellies. Royce knew enough about human anatomy that one
gallon would have distended the normal person's gut to the point of
rupture and beyond. Still, he had faith in the power of the
artifacts he was working with; and it certainly appeared that his
faith was not misplaced.
After
this brief reverie, he detached the hose from the butt plug. The
last half gallon would be consumed. He would eat the seed, fill his
belly with werebear cum. Putting the hose to his mouth, he once
again turned the machine on and fed. It was a bitter, salty, with a
slight bleach like taste to it and just a bit of sweetness, but to
Royce, this was nectar! This came from a werebear. This cum, now in
his guts, in his nuts, and in his belly would change him, and with
the bracelet he wore, he would be a werebear not in four months, not
in a single month, but in a week! He would rapidly transform, and
for that he'd already set aside food to feed ten men for two weeks at
the property he'd purchased up in the mountains.
As
the last of the seed made it's way down the tube and Royce felt
uncomfortably full from consuming two quarts of semen, he looked over
at the glorious being who had provided him with the means to achieve
his transformation. Charlie's balls had returned to their normal
size... well, almost. It was possible that he'd keep the larger
testicles, or perhaps they'd return to normal; Royce did not know.
It
was time to clean up.
He
removed The Enhancer cock ring from the gurney where it lay. Royce planned on wearing it back at his mountain cabin while
The Accelerator bracelet worked to speed his transformation. Royce
wanted to be in a constant state of arousal, with the ability to cum
whenever he pleased. He removed The Inhibitor amulet from around
Charlie's neck and placed it around his own. The medallion would
allow Royce to remain human, even as his body potentially became more
and more that of a werebear. This would give him control over the
timing of his first change.
Somewhere
around three am, he had everything packed up. Charlie was back in
his leathers and in the front seat of his truck. Royce noted that
the semen was already making changes to himself. He felt stronger,
and indeed it was almost easy now to lift the unconscious bear from
the gurney and into his truck. He felt full of energy and vigor. It
was as if he were ten years younger and could bench a hundred pounds
more than usual. He did three checks to make sure he had everything
packed up and there was damn near no trace that he'd been there all
night. By three thirty he was on the road, headed back to the motel
Charlie had mentioned.
By
five am, he was renting a room for the next day for 'himself and his
husband' and had parked Charlie's Harley in front of the room minutes
later. It was here that he put the bear into bed, put his helmet and
keys on the night stand, left a case of bottled water in the fridge,
a dozen protein bars on the dresser, and the contents of Charlie's
saddle bags on the second queen sized bed. He then made a call on
Charlie's cell phone to the Meyers and Sons auto shop leaving a
message with the voice altering device telling them where Charlie
was, what room he was in and that the front desk would be expecting
them.
With
that, Royce checked on Charlie who, it seemed, was healthy enough to
be left alone while his friends came to get him.
Before
climbing into his truck and departing, Royce removed his jacket, and
then his shirt, and looked at himself. His belly, less distended
now, had absorbed a good amount of Charlie's sperm. He rubbed it and
looked at his arms, which seemed thicker with muscle, and hairier.
Pleased, he made one last check of the room and Charlie, put his
shirt and jacket back on, and exited the motel room, pulling the door
shut behind him.
He
took a cigar from the carved box in the passenger's seat, he trimmed
it, toasted it, and took a long pull on it, filling his lungs with
rich smoke. He clamped down on it, fixing it in the right side of
his mouth and puffed away as he started up his truck, pulled out of
the no-tell motel lot, and headed for his cabin for the next week,
anticipating the most glorious metamorphosis any human could
experience.
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