Arctos: Filters - Episode 1

By Wesley Bracken -
published January 21, 2019

Bruce finds a strange augmented reality photos app, and discovers that the filters the app applies can be applied to real life as well.

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Arctos: Filters Episode 1 - Bruce’s Inner Pig***

“Wait, is this the right one?” Bruce asked himself when he opened up the app on his phone, and started scrolling down through it. One of his coworkers that day had mentioned some new app that did some sort of really cool photo filters, but by the time he’d gotten home he hadn’t been able to remember the exact name. This one had sounded familiar though, and so he’d downloaded it from some company named Arctos. He booted it up, and it looked…well, like a lot of other filter programs he’d seen, but nothing particularly special. He’d just have to ask him for the right name tomorrow at work.

He browsed through the selections in this one, and was actually impressed by the sheer number. There were filters to change facial hair and hairstyle, filters that made you look like someone from a particular occupation–and then he saw something he hadn’t seen before–there were filters that the app claimed could change the look of your whole body. There was a buzz from his phone, a message from Jean, his boyfriend, checking to see if they were still on for dinner tonight, and Bruce decided to send him something funny. There was a collection of animal filters, and he found one that looked like a set of floppy pig ears. He turned it on, and was surprised by how lifelike it was–when he turned his head, he could see the ears swinging with it, and the physics of them was surprisingly realistic. He tilted his head to the side, letting one ear flop against his cheek, while the other one hung down, and then tilted it the other way. He didn’t know what company this was, but this was actually way more impressive than the one his coworker had mentioned. He took a photo of himself with the floppy ears–though it took a while for it to pop up on the screen, and then he sent it to Jean, along with a message that he was just about to leave.

He slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his coat and stepped out of his apartment. Jean lived a few streets away, but Bruce preferred walking, rather than trying to catch a bus. He hit the street, checked his phone again, and saw a message from Jean–“There’s my handsome man!”–but no mention of the ears added to the photo. Bruce was a bit annoyed that Jean didn’t mention the filter, he usually liked silly things like that, but it wasn’t a big deal, he supposed. Bruce just enjoyed the Spring chill on the twenty minute walk to his place, not really thinking about much in particular beyond how excited he was for Summer to finally arrive. He buzzed for Jean, who let him into the building, and Bruce hiked up the three stories to his apartment, where Jean was waiting for him. He gave him a kiss, and stepped inside, hanging his coat up on the hook inside. “Did you like that pic I sent?” he asked, “Kind of cool, right?”

Jean looked at him a bit puzzled, “Of course, you’re always cute in a photo–are you just fishing for compliments, or what?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but the ears Jean, come on.”

Jean just chuckled, “I know you feel self-conscious about them sometimes, so I never know if I should say anything or not, but of course they looked good–they always do,” he stepped closer, reached up and flicked one of the floppy ears hanging off of Bruce’s head, and watched his boyfriend’s face go pale, both hands flying up to the side of his head, and then he dashed to the bathroom like a madman, locking the door behind him.

They were there. The ears, they were real! Bruce grabbed one and gave it a tug, wincing from the sudden pain. It couldn’t be possible, it didn’t make any sense! He stared at himself in the mirror over the sink, tilting his head side to side like he had into his phone half an hour earlier, watching his new ears flop and hang just like they had, just like…they always had, right? He fumbled with his phone and pulled up his photos, looking through his selfies, and sure enough, his ears were there, in every single photo. His pig ears. Had he really walked all the way over here, and not a single person had looked at him? Or had they been looking, and he was just so used to the stares at this point, that he didn’t worry about it?

“Bruce?” Jean said, “I’m sorry, I…I mean, you asked, and I didn’t want to upset you, alright? Let’s talk about it.”

Bruce went back to the app, and his photo was still up. He backed out to the camera, and there, in the upper left hand corner, was a button marked undo. He slammed it, watched the screen process for a moment, and when the screen came back alive, they were gone. His normal, human ears were right there, like they’d never left. He looked in the mirror, and again, the pig ears were gone, and also from all of his photos, which had also turned back to normal. He heaved a sigh of relief, and then opened the door, where a very concerned looking Jean was standing.

“Are you alright?” Jean asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Bruce said, “Just…had a weird day today at work, is all.”

“Well, let’s talk about it, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m over it.”

Jean narrowed his eyes, “It doesn’t look like your over it, if you’re running to the bathroom and locking me out.” He sighed, “Bruce…I love you, but I can’t keep up with the narrative sometimes, you know? You have to let me in on occasion, if I’m going to be able to understand.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

It was clear that Jean didn’t believe it, and Bruce wasn’t surprised. They’d had this conversation (or argument, depending on how loud their voices got) plenty of times before, about the fact that Bruce wouldn’t open up to him…but in all honesty, Bruce didn’t know what Jean was looking for. He wasn’t a complex guy–he had a boring job, watched TV and played video games on occasion but it wasn’t like his life was exciting or interesting, and he didn’t really want to be interesting. He liked Jean a lot, and liked having sex–but Jean always seemed so…concerned about him, for some reason that Bruce didn’t really understand. It just felt like he wanted to get inside his head, but Bruce didn’t really want anyone in there, as far as he was concerned, because there wasn’t much anything of interest, in his opinion. If that meant he came off as distant and detached…well, then maybe he was.

The fight didn’t develop any further than that, but the frustration ruined the evening for them both, and to Bruce’s disappointment Jean didn’t invite him to stay the night, claiming he had an early morning the next day for work that he had to get rested up for. Bruce walked the way back to his apartment, and his thoughts turned back to the strange app he’d downloaded, and the ears he’d accidentally given himself–he opened it back up, being careful not to trigger anything, and looked through some of the options, surprised by the sheer variety the app could provide–and if they all worked like the ears had, the possibilities were…intriguing. However, for whatever reason, Bruce was drawn back to the ears, turning the filter on as he stood waiting for a crosswalk, looking at himself. He could almost feel them, just by watching himself move. To his surprise, he found himself missing them, despite the fact he’d only had them on his head for less than an hour. Still, not in public–he got back up to his apartment, triggered the ears again, and when he felt them flopping against the side of his head again, like before, he let off a sigh of relief he hadn’t even been aware of holding in.

He went into the bathroom and just stood in front of the mirror, playing with them, wondering why this all felt so natural to him. More natural than his human ears, even. Then again, in this reality, he’d always had them, so why wouldn’t they feel natural to him? Unnerved, he opened the app again, ready to get rid of them, but the screen had changed, and was instead showing a list of recommended filters for him, though since he’d only used one filter so far, all of them were, well, pig related in one way or another.

There was a filter that would make him look like a farmer, one that would make him chubby, another that would make him chubby, and another that would make him far fatter than he was really comfortable dealing with as a concept. Others focused on more piggish features–some added snouts, others made his hands and feet become trotters–and one promised to give him a sizable boar cock and balls. His squeamishness eventually gave way to curiosity. It wasn’t like he couldn’t just change back, right? Just to check, he removed the ears again, put them back on, removed them, put them back, removed them. He stared at himself, human again, wondering why, even with the ears removed, he still didn’t feel…right, looking at himself like this. He’d never even thought about being a pig before in his life. He had a couple of friends who were furries, but he’d never once understood whatever they were talking about, or been interested in it, especially not erotically. It didn’t make any sense to him, and yet, when he turned the ears back on, he still felt so at ease in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

There was really only one way to know, he supposed. He pulled up another filter, the recommended one that would allegedly make him chubby, though not massive. The screen displayed an error at first, telling him that he needed to back away from the camera and allow for a full body shot–then, when he did that, it also insisted that he remove all of his clothes. He did so, standing a bit awkwardly a few feet away from his phone, where it was propped up on the counter. He could see himself in the mirror, his usual body at least, and then below it, in the tiny phone screen, a body that was similar, but definitely larger, though it was too far to make out details very well. The app was on a timer, so he went up, pressed the trigger button, and then went back to position, watching the screen process–longer this time–and after a minute or so, his picture popped up. Bruce didn’t need to see the picture though. After all, he had his new gut already hanging off of him.

It was difficult to explain how it felt, exactly. On one hand, he had never been this big before–he guessed he was around 275 pounds or so, with a hefty gut, and a rather wide ass as well. He gripped it, and gave it a shake, and it felt good. Really good, somehow, in a way he didn’t even expect. He shook it again, and his cock was hard as a rock, slapping against the underside of his new gut–and the fact that he was so excited unnerved him. Before he could do anything else, he hurried over to the phone and undid it, and the ears, and decided that he had to delete the app…didn’t he?

He already missed it–how could that even be? Even though he’d only been that big for a moment, he felt off balance, like the version of him with that thick gut was the real one, and the skinny version, the real version, was fake. It was so disorienting, that he turned it back on–the app didn’t need a new photo of him this time–and when he had it back, he felt so much better, like everything was exactly how it should be. He looked at himself in the mirror, with his gut and floppy ears–and he liked it. It looked good, and right. Why not…keep them for a while? It’s not like he can’t change them back when he gets bored of it, right? And if he could always change himself back later, then why not try a few more changes? It was just for fun after all.

One filter in particular had caught his attention, when he’d been scrolling through–mostly because it had seemed insane that the app would even offer something like that. There it was–a filter that would, apparently, give him the dick of a pig. He didn’t even know what a pig’s dick looked like–he put the filter on, pointed the phone down at his dick, and was surprised at what he was looking at on the screen. It was…curly, and ran up his belly from a sheath, instead of sticking straight out from his crotch. He reached under and grabbed his cock–but what he was looking at, and what he was feeling didn’t match at all, even if the program did a good job rendering his hand stroking up and down the filtered image…but he wanted to know what it would feel like, now that he’d seen it for himself. He took the picture as he stroked it, and he swore he could feel it shifting in his hand, the pleasure intensifying, and he let off a grunt of excitement, put down the phone on the counter, and kept stroking–and thinking about Jean, and how he’d left his place without getting laid.

Jean was always so caught up in feelings, in wanting to know Bruce, the real Bruce, he said, but he wasn’t complicated. He was just a horny pig, craving sex, and food, and…why not give him a taste of what he’d missed tonight? He sent the dick pic he’d just taken to Jean, hoping to entice him a bit, still stroking, thinking about maybe heading over for a bit of fun, but the messages that came back were…not what he was expecting.

Jean was furious. He shows up at his place, acting strange, refuses to talk about it or anything else, leaves, and now he’s sending him dick pics? Jean wanted to know what in the hell he was thinking, and reading the messages…Bruce found himself asking the same question. What on Earth was he thinking?

He went into the app and reverted the changes–all of them. He felt normal again, the raging horniness from before wearing off, though he found himself…missing it, like he did all of the changes. Still, that wasn’t him. He sent an apology, but while Jean read it, he didn’t reply–had he really just fucked up his relationship so quickly? Then again, maybe it was for the best…though they’d been getting along so damn well, hadn’t they? Everything felt confused in his head, and he wasn’t quite sure whether what he was thinking and feeling was really himself, or just the lingering desires of the pig he’d been for a few minutes. He decided it would be best if he just went to bed, and tried to sort in all out in the morning–and thankfully, with a good night’s sleep, he did feel better, and the longing he felt for that other body was much less powerful than it had been, though it hadn’t gone away entirely.

Things were better with Jean too…though that was harder to try and manage. All Jean wanted was an answer. Why had Bruce been acting so strangely? But he couldn’t tell him the truth. Would he even believe him, if he tried to tell him? He doubted it–he’d just sound crazy. Instead, he told him that he’d had a bad day at work, and hadn’t been feeling well that evening, and while it was a lame excuse, maybe that lameness helped sell it. That, or Jean was just eager to believe something. They made up, had a nice day, and had a good round of sex, though Bruce found it difficult getting hard, and maintaining interest. He ended up not being able to cum, and when he got home he was hornier than ever, and frustrated at himself for not being able to even tell the truth about what was going on with him. Frustrated because the longing he’d hoped would keep dying away had come roaring back, now that he was horny.

The truth was, his human cock didn’t compare to the sensation of that pig cock he’d had for a few minutes. He…wanted to feel it again. It couldn’t have been as good as he remembered, could it? He hadn’t deleted the app, though he knew he should have. He opened it back up, and found that the program had autosaved the three filters into a package under a second tab–labeled past forms. He put them on as a filters without changing himself, stripped down, and just…looked at himself in the image on his phone, at that version of himself, small in the tiny screen, and yet…so much more real, in other ways. He was a…sexy fucking animal, he had to say that. He’d never really been one for chubs, really, but looking at himself (no, not himself, at…at the pig, at the pig he’d been? At the pig he could be?) he found all of the sexual energy he hadn’t been able to muster earlier, with Jean. So he went back into the app, activated the saved filters, and after the changes had swept over him he shook his gut a few times, then grabbed his cock and got to business.

Jacking off had never felt like this before. Every stroke was so thrilling, and his heavy balls were throbbing with excitement. He didn’t last long, and after a few minutes, he was spraying his piggy cum all over the floor in his apartment, feeling the orgasm building inside of him, and it just kept coming. Wave after wave of pleasure washing over him, overwhelming his mind and his sensation, and he sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the feeling of his body settling around him, enjoying just…being a pig, for once. Being a pig like…like he should be, right? Like he wanted to be.

Was this just something he’d always wanted without even realizing it? Or was it just that being this…empty and simple felt so much better than anything else he’d felt before? No one would expect him to be anything special, not like this–not even Jean. Jean–he didn’t know what to feel about him now, especially after their nice day today…or what had been a nice day. Suddenly he was feeling a bit…differently about it. About how Jean just didn’t understand him, and what he needed. Sure he was sexy…if that’s what you were looking for in a guy, but Bruce wasn’t sure if that was what he was looking for at all, really. It hadn’t been enough to get him off today at least. He tried telling himself that the dissatisfaction he was feeling was different, but to this version of himself…it was just how things had happened. He’d had a decent day with a nice enough boyfriend who he wasn’t that attracted to, who wasn’t that attracted to him, and…why was he even with him in the first place?

He opened up the filter app again, and started scrolling through it, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. He took a look at himself with a pig snout, thought about adding it to the package, but hesitated. It seemed like…a dangerous idea, even if he did look damn good in it. Then, as he was looking through some old pictures of him, all of which were modified by his new piggish self, he scrolled past a picture of Jean and him taking a selfie–and the program recognized his boyfriend’s face as a target.

Curious, he pulled up the photo and added a filter, only for the app to display a warning message. While he could test filters on a photo, and create packages for use later, no filter applied to an old photo would be effective on the subject. Filters could only be applied to real life by taking a live photo. That piqued his interest–and he started by taking the pig package he’d applied to himself, and put it on the picture of Jean.

In a moment, the photo of his slim, good looking boyfriend had morphed into one that looked quite a lot like him–floppy ears, a second chin, the hint of a fatter chest at the bottom of the selfie. It was hot, sure, but was it quite what he was looking for? He thought back to their sex earlier, how Jean had fucked him (was that what had happened? Part of him could remember topping…but bottoming was more his thing, right?) but it just hadn’t been enough, really. Dick a bit too small, and not nearly…rough enough. No, what he wanted was someone who knew how to ride a pig’s ass properly. He took the filters off, and then looked around on his phone until he found a different picture of him alone, a full body one of his standing in the kitchen cooking a big meal for Bruce (that was one saving grace, the skinny fuck sure could cook!) and then started looking through the filters again, this time thinking about what he’d like to see.

He added some weight first, and then a bit of muscle, giving him a thick, powerlifter physique. Next hair. He toyed with a few filters, but kept adding more, until he had a thick layer down his arms, over his shoulders, and down his ass (along the way, he’d found a filter to edit out clothing, and found a much nicer view after that). A new cock, eight inches long, and uncut. Better, but it could be more than better. He needed a man who knew what a pig wanted, after all. He found the lifestyle filters he’d noticed before, scrolled down until he found one called Farmer John, and applied it–and this time the entire photo shifted.

Instead of a small apartment kitchen, Jean was now standing in a spacious kitchen in a house, somewhat worn down, but still nice. Jean himself had a few changes, but nothing too noticeable–dirt on his hands, his beard a bit longer and knotted, and when he removed the clothes filter, his shirt and jeans were replaced by overalls and a flannel shirt. Fuck, seeing that had his piggy cock leaking all over his belly and thighs, and he started stroking himself again, scrolling through, finding other pictures of his boyfriend, and the filters carried over. Now, in every picture where his young, slim city boyfriend had been, instead there was a hulking muscle bear farmer…and it wasn’t long before Bruce was shooting again, imagining Jean behind him, plowing his ass, telling him what a good pig he was in that sexy country drawl he could almost imagine…but not quite hear.

The pleasure ebbed, and in its place was restlessness, shame, and disgust. He took the filters off, not noticing they were saved as a package when he did, and then also took the filters off himself as well. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t a pig, not really, and Jean…Jean didn’t deserve that, did he? He took a shower, still felt dirty afterwards, and then climbed into bed and tried to sleep, but couldn’t get comfortable. It took him an hour of flopping back and forth to realize it was because he was trying to accomodate a gut that wasn’t there, and the frustration came roaring back, but he refused to give in, and eventually slept–though it wasn’t restful, and he awoke in the morning, dimly recalling he’d dreamt of a big, burly farmer fucking him in a mud puddle, and wondered if he was ever going to feel normal again.

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