By Papa Werebear published April 4, 2017
SummaryA young twenty-something man finds that cat-fishing a Daddy Bear can have unforeseen consequences.
This is a gift for a friend of mine, Mr. Rose. ;)
I was just tired of it; I was damn close to DONE with the kid.
I’d been grooming this Cub to be the big furry Bear he needed to be for a couple of years now. I’d gotten him interested in cigars, leather, weight lifting, growing his beard, rough, hot bear-sex, pushing his face into the musky jock I’d sent and huffing on it while he jacked, and some light B&D; but interest was all there seemed to be. He never took the next step in any of those things.
He tried cigars, said he just couldn’t see himself smoking them regularly, he was too young. He liked leather, but couldn’t commit to more than a leather vest and even then just for online video chat with me. He started working out, stuck with it for about a year and a half and then lost interest just when he was beginning to see results. He DID grow a beard and kept it, but he kept fucking with it; trimming it into new styles every other week; down to a goatee, then one of those skinny-assed chin straps that connected to it, then a horseshoe mustache, instead of growing it out to a nice, thick, full beard. He said he loved rough sex. Said he liked hard pounding Daddies and that he’d love for me to tie him up and just fuck him full of seed, but when I offered to take him to Vegas for ‘Gars and Bars’, the week-long smoke and bar crawl event, and give him the pounding a hungry Cub needed after an evening on the town, he conveniently had a funeral. When I offered to get him to Bears in Bermuda he had just gotten a new job he couldn’t take time from because he was new. Oddly, there weren’t many details he was specific about when I asked him what he did at work. I asked him the name of his manager and he gave me ‘Jim Johnson’, which changed to John Jameson. So I looked for the company he said he worked for and couldn’t find it.
This kid was cat-fishing me and now, he had to realize that sometimes there’s a price for leading a guy on… and he was gonna pay it.
Now, understand, I felt for him I truly did. He was in his mid-twenties and I was a lot like him in my early twenties; too afraid to take a step out of the world I knew and into the big scary unknown of being gay, let alone being a Cub. However, I had the good fortune of finding a great mentor. A real man who pulled me out of my shell and taught me, changed me, made me the man I am, and I was trying to do that same thing for this boy. I’d grown quite attached to him, very fond indeed, and I wanted to introduce him to my world as it had been done for me. I wanted to make a real Bear out of him and, perhaps more, but this kid was rejecting ever attempt I made to get close to him. I was at the point of cutting my losses and perhaps starting over with some other Cub when, I decided to give him one last chance.
I arranged to get him to my cabin out in the woods on a large 150 acre parcel I owned. A place where we could have some alone time together and he accepted.
I thought, “Yeah, and then he’ll back out, just like before”. But I was surprised when he called from the train station. I went down to get him, we hugged and I deep kissed him right there on the platform. He was nervous, certainly, it being a small town and other guys looking at us, but when you’re as big and mean looking as I am, not many people bother to make a fuss when you don’t conform to their ideas about proper sexuality.
I grabbed his bag and secured it to the back of my Hawg, handed him a helmet, and then put him in back of me and we were off, out of town, up into the foothills, and soon into the mountains.
When we got to the cabin, we stripped. It was cool up here at this time of year, early fall meant Indian summer in the valleys around here, but up here the broad-leaf trees had begun to turn their autumn colors, and nights were crisp. His nipples were hard and so was his cock. We moved to the bedroom, I sheathed my dick and made no bones about taking what I wanted, and he willingly gave it to me. I took his virgin hole, and once he was comfortable with my generously sized cock in him, I fucked him hard and he loved it! He kept asking for it harder and I gave it to him. After about an hour I filled the rubber I was wearing up with prime Daddy Bear seed. I will give him credit, he took it well for his first time, but I know it had to hurt. I took the condom off and squeezed my cum out all over his back and rubbed it into his skin until it was dry, marking him as MINE!
After a while, with him lying in my big muscled, tatted up, hairy arms, nuzzling in my furry pit, and sucking on my nipples I was zoning out, drowsing. Finally, he got sleepy, so we slept a bit. I woke an hour or so later hungry. We got up and I started dinner. We ate rare, grilled steaks and roasted potatoes and I fed him his beer, taking big swigs from my mug and filling his mouth with them, forcing it down his throat, which had him shooting free-handed after the fourth feeding. It was good strong stuff and I poured myself another mug, downed it, and then filled it again and fed the whole thing to him. He was good and relaxed and that’s just what I wanted. I told him I had a dungeon in what used to be the root cellar and that I wanted to introduce him to a bit of play.
He said, “Isn’t this going just a little fast? I feel hot. Is it hot in here to you? But, also, can’t we do something else before we get to that, I don’t know if I’m ready…” and that was all he said before he passed out.
I’d managed to feed him the sedative, putting the liquid in my mouth while he wasn’t looking, mixing it with the beer and spiting it into his mouth. It was bitter stuff, but covered by the strong hoppy qualities of the beer I’d selected and of course, the alcohol increased the effectiveness of the drug, and now the kid was out cold.
I picked him up, threw him over my furry shoulder, and took him downstairs. In a short while I had a rather stout, but comfortable collar locked around his neck attached to an equally stout leather harness. Both were steel covered in leather and with the harness chained to the floor. I cuffed his wrists similarly. There was a bed in the corner, a toilet and shower, several weight machines and mirrors, my dungeon equipment, and that was a good start for what I had planned for him. I’d bring other things down as needed.
I wasn’t going to just keep a slave, God knows THAT’S boring… and sad too! “Oh worship me, worship me, I’m your MASTER! Bow before my pathetic needy, overcompensating, GREATNESS!”
No, I didn’t WANT a slave; I wanted a man I could relate to, a man I could share my life with, I wanted to create an equal. I was going to build that man and I was going to transform this kid to make that happen. I was going to remake him. I was going to turn him into a proper bad ass Bear, a man who could stand beside me, not behind me. A man who had my back as I had his, a real man… just like his new Daddy.
When he awoke, of course he complained, and yelled until he was hoarse. He cursed and threatened. He screamed about kidnapping. Eventually he pleaded, begged and cried and none of it did him any good, of course. Next came bargaining and promises to never say anything about all of this. He asked if I meant to kill him and my only response to that was to light up a fat cigar, take a seat in my black leather recliner, and pour myself some whiskey. I smoked and drank observing him and without a word while he chattered on about me ‘not getting away with it’, and retired for the evening after I got down to the butt of the cigar and stubbed it out.
He tried passive resistance, not eating, that sort of thing, but that didn’t last long. I made the food ESPECIALLY aromatic and tasty looking. It took a good three weeks to get him to resignation. It was all rather cute, actually, his attempts to force his will on me. Finally, he asked what he had to do to be free; so, for the first time since I’d brought him down I spoke, and I told him exactly what the terms were.
When he was worthy of freedom, he would have it. When he became a man that deserved it, when he was equal to me, it would be his, but there was a process he had to go through.
The first part of the process was physical transformation. I told him I was going to build his body up, increase his muscle mass. I was going to increase his body and face fur, and reintroduce him to the pleasures of pipes and cigars. Teach him about fine spirits, wines, and beers.
I took out a package of nicotine patches, took out the lowest dosage patch and told him to walk to me and turn around. I explained that these things could be used for their reverse purpose, to addict someone to tobacco and that I was going to make him nicotine addict with them; gradually increasing the dosage until he needed the nicotine. I’d keep him on it until he needed it, and then I’d stop putting the patches on him and when he was in the middle of withdrawal, I would start feeding him cigar and pipe smoke, right from my lungs to give him his fix. Eventually, he’d graduate to smoking on his own and I’d be happy to teach him the rituals for pipes and cigars and to supply him with all he needed.
Of course, he refused to come to me and turn around to get his patch and I told him that I had all the time in the world. No one knew where he was, no one would come looking. He’d already screamed for help for hours before to no avail. You see, I had friends who’d already erased his tracks. Further, thanks to some rather wise business decisions I’d made early on in my life with the help of my mentor, I was excessively wealthy. I didn’t need to work and I could spend all of my time right here. The empty woods that surrounded my property for miles was so remote, no one was going to venture up to this cabin and if they did, I had monitoring devices which would alert me. Anything I required would be brought to me by men I trusted and I had enough supplies for six men my size until the middle of the next year. In short, it didn’t matter if he wanted to become a cigar and pipe Bear or not, it’s what I wanted; it was part of the terms of his release, and I would transform him into one.
He stubbornly stood there, so I set the patch down, on top of the box out of his reach, and walked up the stairs. I called back that dinner would be soon and left.
I returned with a very tasty high calorie meal for the kid’s dinner, on a paper plate. It was all cut to be finger food, of course. Actual metal or even plastic utensils were for those who could be trusted not to turn them into weapons or tools.
The higher calorie intake too was part of the changes, of course. The kid was far too trim and needed a bit of padding on him to cover the muscle I was going to start building on his body. He lay on the bed, asleep. I sat the tray down and told him to wake up. When he did, he got up and lunged at me, which of course was a mistake. Over the years I’d spent a lot of time learning various physical disciplines, many of them lethal, BUT lethal was unnecessary and pointless. I didn’t want to kill him, after all. So, I dodged, he hit the end of his chain and was pulled by the harness to the floor, landing on his butt. He moved to get up and I hit a button on a remote in my pocket. The kid experienced a mild electric shock. It wasn’t enough to incapacitate him, but it hurt.
“That’s a proximity collar; the closer you come to me the more power goes through it. If you get within five feet, striking distance, it will deliver Taser level shocks”. He backed off until the level was merely a tingle of electricity and fixed me with a baleful gaze.
“Good. Now that you understand, I’m going to leave you to your dinner. I’m giving you thirty minutes. When I come back down I expect you to be ready for your patches.
“Patches?” he asked, clearly shocked, “More than one?”
“Yes, of course. How do you expect to get more body fur without a testosterone patch? You’ll get both the nicotine and testosterone ones on you tonight as well as your first doses of a specialized hair growth formula” I said and climbed the stairs, “I have other things I’m going to use on you, but we won’t worry about that until later”.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He pleaded and I decided he would get an answer.
“Because, I want you to become so much more than what you are, I see it within you, and when I’m done with you, you will too. One day, you will be glad that I changed you, thankful that I had the patience and vision to change you” I said and left him to eat.
It’s been eight months since the night I applied the first patches to the kid. When I came down the stairs he’d finished his meal and was sitting at the end of his chain with his back to me. When I approached he simply said, “To gain my freedom, I’ll do it.”
I smiled, it was finally getting through to him; I had control over what happened and he was going to have to live with that.
“I want you to come to trust me. I’m going to take very good care of you and what I’m doing you will eventually understand, and will likely enjoy and appreciate. You might even come to love me for the care I’m lavishing on you, but I doubt that will happen until you understand more. At the very least, when it’s all over and you walk up those stares a free man, equal to me, I think you will count yourself lucky that this all happened; I truly do”. I said and applied the first nicotine and testosterone patches to the middle of his back where he couldn’t reach to peel them off. I would increase the patch potency gradually, and the same for the testosterone patches. I wanted to bring him up slowly, so his body had time to adjust to the changes in the drug and hormone levels.
The next week I moved in some full spectrum lights too. I didn’t want him deficient in vitamin D nor to suffer from SADS.
I’ve been taking pictures of him to keep record of the changes and I’ve got to admit, watching him transform really turns me on. I jack off as I scroll through the images on my desktop, each frame a day with him in the same place in the same position, so that it’s like a movie of his body changing. In addition to the other changes, he’s gaining weight, due to the high calorie foods I’ve been feeding him. I rather like him chubbier, but this is something he’s going to work off later. I’m putting fuel on him for what I want to do to him later.
I’ve been rubbing hair growth drugs directly onto his chest, back, arms, legs, beard and neck since he first accepted the patches, and along with the testosterone patches, it’s working rather well. He’s got a nicer beard now which I will not clip or shave, though it’s got a way to go before it’s complete. It’s becoming thicker and it’s going bushy. In a few months I’ll start teaching him how to braid it, like I do with mine. The effects of the testosterone on the rest of him are stunning! He’s beginning to grow a light pelt all over his body which is sure to become dense, dark, hair over the next six months. It’s not much at the moment, more like thick medium blond peach fuzz, but I’m sure it will develop into a proper pelt soon. He’s rather proud of the beard and body hair and we’ve had jack off sessions where I stroke his new bear,d and fur and he brings himself to climax. I constantly praise and congratulate him on his new masculine appearance.
However, he’s beginning to go bald in the typical male pattern, something that he noticed last week and was alarmed by when he realized he could see more of his forehead than he could before. I told him it was a natural consequence of his genes and that the added testosterone was speeding up the process. I told him he needed to embrace it. It was a mark of his masculinity, because, most women don’t go bald, but a lot of men do. A bald, thickly bearded, hairy man represented virility from thirty feet away, every man could tell just by looking. He still moped around for a month, checking each day to see how much he had left.
It’s a year now since I started putting the patches on the kid. A full year and WHAT a difference! He’s packed on a lot of weight; he can’t wait to get the next nicotine patch on as when they start to wear off he gets irritable, jittery and cranky. The testosterone has all but finished off any hair he had on top of his head and I’ve started using the clipper on the sides, leaving him with the typical horseshoe pattern. I shave the fine hairs left on top of his head for neatness, something he’ll do eventually. The added weight has rounded out his features and I must say, he’s damned hot with his baldness, the new darker, thicker, denser fur, and the long, fuller beard braided up. He looks like dwarf from the beard up. I, of course, constantly compliment him on his appearance, I remind him we have far to go before he’s finished, but let him know that he’s already sex on two paws as far as I’m concerned and that the erections I get when looking at him are proof of that. He, of course, has been getting erections uncontrollably since the first day of patches, another natural result of the hormones, but now, when I come down the stairs in the morning to wake him, if he doesn’t have morning wood, when he sees me, he gets hard. There’s gentler touching now, and I think it’s time we started having sex again. It’s time for me to start teaching him how to be a good fucker and lover. So, with that in mind, I’ve decided he and I will start sleeping together through the night in his bed.
This being his first anniversary, I’ve decided to surprise him. I’ve sent for an extremely talented tattoo artist to tattoo him right here. They guy charges five times what a studio artist would, but he makes house calls, is VERY discreet, and also a personal friend. Indeed, he did most of my work. He has tatted many a captive for their master and is used to the kinds of relationships that this situation would represent on the surface, though I explained that this wasn’t a master/slave situation, but more of a ‘training a boy’ thing. I don’t expect that the kid will rat me out and beg him for help, but you never know. Still, even if he did, Rodger would take in the information most seriously while the kid was pleading for rescue, and then he and I would have a good laugh about it upstairs over cigars and whiskey, after.
When Rodger had all his equipment set up, I shocked the Hell out of the boy by asking, “So, what tatts do you want?”
All he could say, at first was, “I thought you were going to decide that?”
“No,” I said, “this is your body. I want you and Roger to have a nice consultation about it. He’s going to be here for several weeks so you don’t have to decide right now. I want you both to discuss what it is you want and plan it all out. I expect there will be designs and revisions aplenty, but don’t worry about that. You have to have exactly what you want. He’s going to help you decide and then he’s going to expertly put them on you.
I left them alone then and took a quick trip into town to pick up the supplies I’d ordered. It was a good four hours before I got back and another hour and a half putting everything away even with help from Henry, my caretaker who lives in his own cabin not far from my own. Henry is a good guy, a brother I’ve rode with for years, and one Hell of a hot fuck in bed, but he’s getting older and doesn’t move as fast as he used to. So after sandwiches and beer with him it was probably close to seven hours I’d left Roger alone with the kid.
That night, after dinner, when Rodger went upstairs with me on his way to his room I asked, “So, did the kid rat me out? Did he beg for you to rescue him?”
“Not at all!” Roger said, “In fact, it was Daddy this, and Daddy that, and I can’t believe Daddy’s getting me the tatts I’ve always wanted. It was like dealing with a bouncy five year old with a baritone voice for the first hour, while I did the preliminary sketches. He’s very excited. I think you’ve got a good one there; a worthy successor for Buck.”
I smiled with pride, but then when he mentioned Buck, I must have done so with a bit of wanness because Rodger said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s OK,” I interrupted, “Really, it’s OK. He’s with me always.”
Rodger gave me a big hug and kissed me passionately and said, “Get down there with your boy, I think he’s ready for you now. I asked, circumspectly, of course. I know what’s going on.”
“You do?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked a kidnapping. Difference between the two is it’s usually a master marking his property. This is… different… and I rather like it. I think you are inspiring him, I think you’re making him more, and I believe he’s beginning to feel that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you if you asked” Roger said, hugged me again, and continued up the second story to his room.
I was stunned by his assessment; Roger hit it right on the nose.
That night, I tied the boy up to the bed and for the first time in a year, removed his cuffs saying, “I don’t think we’ll be needing these for other than playtime anymore. You’ve earned that piece of freedom. Another present for his one year anniversary was a set of nipple stretchers and some sounding rods. I applied the stretchers, then lubed him up and played with the sounds for an hour or more. After that I gave him a good rough fucking which had him begging for more. I must have dumped six or seven condoms full of my hot seed onto his furry back and chest where it was immediately rubbed in until dry, marking him again with my scent and seed.
I then sucked and jacked him off while massaging his prostate. When he was raw and pleading for me to stop, I finally relented, untied him, pulled him close to my sweaty body, covered us both and we spooned. He was out like a light and rightly so, I’d worn him out physically and sexually. Soon we lay sleeping soundly, until morning.
On the second anniversary, I took the boy off the nicotine, but continued with the testosterone, doubling it to two patches. At this time I’d also begun his weight training.
I changed his diet too; lots of lean protein, low carb vegetables, and protein shakes, of course, which he’d NOT been happy about. But he’d gained enough weight and it was time for him to start building some real muscle. When he earned his freedom, and I’d already molded his body into the brick outhouse I wanted it to be, he could have ice cream and cookies whenever he wanted; for now they were an occasional treat.
So, within two days of going cold turkey, he was begging to suck the smoke out of my lungs as I sat in my recliner, huffing on my pipe, and sipping my whiskey while I watched him do his squats. I told him he’d get smoke after his sets as a reward, and… a little something else, of course.
He cursed a blue streak, ending his tirade with, “Fuck you! I need it now, old man! You got me addicted, so you need to hook me up, motherfucker!
I didn’t take it personally; it was nicotine withdrawal, something I knew about very well… tends to make you rather irritable. Further, considering I’d brought him up to the equivalent of two to three cigars a day with the patches; I could see why he was a bit temperamental.
I calmly said, “No. Later you may have some of my smoke; this is mental discipline for you, and part of your progression toward freedom. Focus on your form in the mirror and your count and do them right… or you’ll do them over. You’ll be finished sooner too, and I’ll feed you smoke as a reward for doing well before we have dinner. He growled, cursed briefly again, and went back to his routine.
Before taking him off the nicotine patches, I had begun to fuck him hard while I fed him smoke. I’d put a gas mask on him with a hose connected to one I wore. Mine had attachments I could put on the intake that would either hold a cigar or a pipe depending on which I chose to use. I’d inhale and what I exhaled would be forced down the tube from a one way valve and fed to the kid. What he exhaled would leave his mask. I made sure to fuck him hard and long while we shared smoke and he would jack off and cum five or six times in the hour or more my cock was in him. I also liked to use the nipple stretchers on him too, during these sessions. Those nips of his had become nice and plump and were getting longer, and more fun to play with. As usual, I would shoot big into the Spartan ‘Maximus’ condom then pull out, and spill my hot seed all over his furry back, chest or ass; rubbing it in while I blew smoke all over the cum matted fur. The other night I told him that soon, if he showed continued dedication to his exercise regimen, he could have cigars of his own after his workout. Rewards for good work are important. Reaching goals gives one a sense of pride and accomplishment for their efforts. Along with praise, sincerely expressed pride, and admiration, his motivation and need to be a good Boy and do what Daddy said was growing stronger by the day.
After his training session was finished, for the two year mark I removed the canvass cover I had on his present I’d brought down; a sturdy, well anchored, pillory. I had installed it while the kid had a hood and noise cancelling headphones on, to keep it a surprise. I lifted the top part of the hinged board, put his neck and wrists in the device, and then secured it with a padlock and then spread his legs and secured them with a rod with ankle cuffs. I put a vibrating butt plug up his ass, and flogged his pumped body as a reward for his hard work. I occasionally paused to draw on my pipe and push my smoke into his lungs, to feed his need for smoke. He was so hungry for it, he sucked the smoke into his lungs and held it for as long as he could before exhaling. I then attached his nipple stretchers. I played with those, flicking them with the flogger, and then I fed him more smoke. I lit up a cigar and put it in his mouth, letting him smoke while I played with his prostate, pushing on the vibrating plug as I sucked him. Each time he got close, he growled around the stogie that he was going to cum, so I’d turn off the plug and pull off his cock, pick up my pipe and wait for him to cool down. I kept him going for two hours that way, flogging, playing with his nipples, feeding him smoke, giving him my cigar while I sucked him, taking it back and chuffing on that or the pipe while I flog him. He loved how I kept him on edge, torturing him with pleasure and pain, and finally he roared around the stub of the fat cigar as he unloaded his balls, because he’d reached the limit of his ability to control his orgasm. As before, I sucked him dry, but reserved the last of his load, feeding that to him as yet another reward.
We’re at the two and a half year mark since the kid’s captivity began today and tonight I’ve told him that he gets his first pipe and cigar lesson; he’s truly excited. He has observed me preparing my cigars and pipe, but this is the first he will be allowed to participate in the rituals. He’s earned it, his body is looking big! The daily picture video of his progression shows well how he’s changing from a kid into a fully grown, Bear of a man. There’s still a lot of fuel left in the form of the fat I put on him, but he’s trimming down nicely. His muscles have grown considerably thanks to the increased testosterone; and thanks to that and the hair growth formula, he now has a thick, long, beard and a dense pelt all over him. I trim his hair short on the sides once every two weeks, but not buzzed or anything. I make sure his bald head is neat on top and he says the look really makes him look older, manlier, especially with a pipe or gar in his mouth, poking its way out of his beard and mustache. I don’t trim his beard except the ends to shape it a bit. After two years it’s a huge bushy thicket of face fur, and I’ve left his mustache grow to cover both of his lips. You really cannot see his mouth when he talks and he’s had to learn to eat, lifting his mustache before he takes a bite, an inconvenience he says he willingly accepts to keep that look.
I have been teaching him about cigars and pipe tobacco, the different kinds, the quality brands, the better pipes. I’ve also been teaching him about fine drink as well, the differences in the brands and types and what is worth spending on and what is seriously overrated. His pipe and cigar session went well tonight and I rewarded him with his first, ‘all of his own’, cigar. I let him light it and smoke the whole thing. I am concretely sure that have convinced him of what I know to be true: I’m making him a better man. The process he’s going through is transforming him into a focused, determined, disciplined, stronger man; a man who can stand on his own and shoulder his burdens.
We made love together while he proudly smoked his first cigar. I fucked him face to face, watching him smoke as I ploughed him. His face was a mask of pure ecstasy and after he shot a third time into his long braided beard I could take no more. I pulled out, ripped the condom off and spewed my seed all over his chest, belly, and beard. He moaned deeply, his thanks for my gift, and rubbed it into his padded, hairy, muscular, torso. We lay together as he finished his cigar, occasionally kissing as we fondled each other, and when he was done I took my beard out of braids and then his.
I then rose from the bed and motioned him to get up. I removed his collar so we could shower as I have been doing since the first anniversary of his captivity. Before that time it had been sponge bathing only. We bathed each other under the hot spray of the shower-head, and then dried off. He knelt before me, and bent his head to receive the collar again. I lifted his face and looked into his eyes and said, “Today, you earned another piece of your freedom. You will no longer wear the collar. You will not leave this basement until I tell you that you can, but you are free to move about it, because you have proven that you can be trusted, because you are becoming more and more, each day, the man you were destined to be.
His eyes welled up with tears and he rose to his feet. I pulled him into a tight Bear hug and said, “Daddy loves you, and wants what is best for you”.
Through tears, he spoke softly in his deep baritone, “I know, Daddy, thank you for helping me to become the man I should be. I know I’ve been stubborn, and thick headed, and difficult and I know I’ve not been the best Son a Dad could have, but I will do my best to make up for all of that from now on. I’ve come to realize that you love me very much, and you’re helping me shape my body better than I could have ever done by myself. I’ve learned so much from you in such a short time. I look in the mirror, and I’m proud, and turned on seeing what you’ve done to me. I can never repay you for your dedication and the strength you’ve put in me”.
I smiled back and wiped away the tears welling up in my eyes, “You’re welcome Son, you make me proud; of the man you are and the man you will eventually become. I will proudly have you at my side, as my mate and equal, for as long as I live”.
We kissed, fondled for a bit while we stood in the shower area, and then I pushed him up against the wall, knelt and devoured his cock; sucking it down my throat, milking him for all I was worth. He soon shot, growling like a great rumbling, roaring, beast, cursing as he pumped his thick, sticky seed down my throat. Slowly, as his body relaxed, I nursed the last of the cum out of his softened member, stood and shared it with him. We went to bed and slept soundly, his arms around me; face to face, chest to chest, cock to cock.
The next day Roger was back to do final touch ups on the kids tatts. What the kid had chosen were bold, somewhat brooding designs. I was particularly fond of the roaring bear on his left shoulder, the bio-mechanical muscle and metal designs, and the biker themed ones based on ones found on my own body. Roger was amazed at his physical progress, the power in his young, stouter, well-muscled, body.
I again left them alone for some hours so Rodger could work and have conversations with my Son. I went to town for more supplies, taking Henry with me. When I came back, Henry and I put things away and being especially horny, I took Henry up to my room, fucked him and then got him off. I left Henry snoozing, slipping out of bed and making my way downstairs to the basement.
The two of them were sitting together, smoking, having a good laugh about some of the tattoo cover ups Roger had done to fix some hilariously botched jobs. I joined them, of course. After a moment or two of conversation about my trip to town and Henry and I rolling about upstairs, my Son asked my permission, if Roger would permit him, to service him as a thank you for the great job he’d done. I was quite happy to give him permission and added that he could service me as well while Rodger and I smoked and tickled each others tonsils.
Later, after Roger and I had gone up stairs, and had left the kid to his workout, he complimented me on what a fine young man I had made of the boy. How absolutely strong our bond had become. He said he’d never experienced such loyalty and pride from a captive who started out unwilling, before.
“Maybe, that is because somewhere along the line, my son became a willing participant in his own metamorphosis. Maybe he’s enjoying his evolution from skinny boy to beefy Bear, and he is truly thankful to his Daddy for it”, I said.
Roger’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded with that dawning thought.
“Maybe!” he said, “Maybe indeed!”
We made our way upstairs and had some fun fucking with Henry before Roger had to leave.
The three year anniversary was celebrated with the kid’s first pipe. It’s an old favorite of mine, given to me by my own mentor. I explained the importance of it, and he was deeply moved that I would give him something as precious to me as that. I showed him how to pack, light, tamp, and relight; taught him about proper draws and then later cleaning and care. We sat together, him with the pipe and me with a cigar and brandy and we discussed upcoming training goals.
I looked at him, assessing his development. He’d grown so large, so powerful. The hair on his body was so thick in places you could hardly see skin under it. His beard was braided, as usual, and now reached down to his crotch. He was beefy, bald, bearded and beautiful!
In conversations we had I’d told him many things, taught him what I knew about a variety of subjects, increasing his knowledge base. I’d turned him into a proper leather Cub and he’d come to appreciate BDSM as much as I have. I’d given him books to read to expand his world, introduced him to music and art he barely knew existed and gave him an appreciation for it. He and I had so completely bonded over the last three years that it was natural for him now to simply take my direction without question.
Not much of the lost, unfocused, lay-about, slacker kid was left. He was maturing into a fine responsible man. One more year of muscular development and learning, and he’d be ready for the final change; the most important one of them all, the one that would push him over the edge and into full Bearhood!
Year four of my Son’s captivity began every other day six hour workout sessions. His musculature was truly impressive and he was 270 lbs, almost all of it solid Bear meat.
But the physical development was not all.
He was reading voraciously; I’d bring him three or four books from the library upstairs and in a couple of days he’d ask for more. I was running out of books, so decided to get him an electronic one and load it up with five times the capacity of my physical library. I would come down in the mornings with his breakfast to find him with a pipe or cigar in his mouth, reading away on his tablet. He could have access to any subject that interested him and I could see him branching out more and more from the familiar into areas I never expected him to take an interest in. He was reading classics I’d not read in decades.
Over breakfast we’d talk about what he’d read. If I hadn’t read it myself, he’d tell me about it. His insights were becoming more acute and piercing. In addition to literature, I was teaching him academic subjects as well.
One evening, after dinner when I’d finished with my shower, I came down to find him puffing on a cigar, madly going back and forth between reference books and a notebook he’d been working in. I was delighted and amused to discover what he was doing with his scribbling away. He was actually working out the physics as it applied to his exercise routine. He was applying formulas he’d learned to a real world problem! I was a very proud Daddy. My Son’s mind was growing like his body was.
I began to wean him off the testosterone. The patches had done their job, but using them came with a drawback; his testicles had stopped making it for his body and now it was time for his hormone factories fire up again. It was a several month process, of course and he became a bit moody, but eventually he was off the patches completely.
On the fourth anniversary of captivity I locked my boy into the pillory. I satisfied his lusts three times, making sure I’d completely drained him for the evening, and then told him I was ready to give him his present. I brought out an IV, prepared his arm, and had him on a saline solution with a drug I explained would help make him bigger and stronger. He asked me if he was being put on steroids and I explained that what I was giving him was a non-steroidal herbal cocktail. It was not a cutting edge formula recently developed by government scientists, however; no, in fact it was a rather ancient formula. Of course, in the old days the one taking this formula would ingest it, but that took more time to build up in the system. With the tech available in this age I could concentrate the formula and the cells in his body would absorb what they needed.
Hours later, after the second bag of the solution had been absorbed I gave him a sedative, like the one I’d used on him to take him down here to the basement, but stronger. He became drowsy and I helped him to his bed. Before he lost consciousness he asked, “What are you going to do to me now, Daddy?”
I kissed his bearded cheek and said, “I’m going to help you become much bigger, taller, and stronger than you are now. You’re going to be as big as I am a year from now, that is your present this year.”
He smiled and said, “That’s nice, I…” and then he was out.
I had already prepared what I needed. His muscles were all so very well defined now that I could easily find each of them even under all his body fur. The formula I’d prepared would be effective for the next seventy two hours, so I knew I had time to do what I needed without being rushed doing it. I began shaving his body, except for his beard of course. I moved him to a gurney I’d brought down for what I needed to do next. I then sponge bathed his entire body in alcohol, and then the injections began.
Each muscle group was injected, from head to toe. I injected the biological agent into his blood so that they would also be carried to places I could not reach with the needle. I could have just as easily put that into his IV and let that carry the fluid to all parts of his body, but that would require more of the stuff. I just didn’t have enough. It was better to site inject and allow the blood to carry the rest to his internal organs and bones. I flipped him over and injected the muscles on his posterior side. The final step were the penis injections and filling his scrotum. The scrotum was filled with a separate inject-able. I inflated his sack with it, and by the time I was finished it looked like he had a grapefruit hanging below his cock. I was marinating his balls in the fluid that would change them forever. He would reap the rewards of the procedure over the coming year. I expected to see increased testicle size and a longer, thicker, penis. I’d keep him sedated for the next two days so that I could inject more of the fluid into his muscles and veins, allowing for more absorption.
He awoke early evening of the third day and was itching from the regrowth of his body hair. His scrotum had returned to its normal size, having absorbed all that I’d put in it. I helped him by scratching areas he couldn’t reach. He marveled at the tattoos which were now more visible, but lamented the loss of his hair. I told him that I expected it would regrow at a faster rate than usual now, and that the injections would be responsible for that. He asked what had been done to him, and I told him that it was to be a surprise, that over the coming months he would see. Coming out of his drugged state he noticed that he was no longer in the basement of the cabin and asked where he was. I explained that I had moved him to another of my properties where I had better exercise equipment, that he would be needing heavier weights to push his growing body. He looked around and noted that the new location was much like the old one, but bigger and, there were no mirrors. He asked how he was to do his workouts without mirrors to which I said that I would be working out alongside him each day and would watch him to be sure his form was correct, but that he was so used to doing things the right way that I had little doubt he would need supervision, still, I would work out with him and be a benchmark for his development.
“You don’t want me completely seeing what’s happening to me, do you?” he said.
“No I don’t, I want to reveal it to you. We will still take a daily photo and after this is all done, you can watch the video of your change.” I said.
Having not had food for three days, the kid was naturally famished. I expected that and had prepared a meal large enough to satisfy his needs, plus a very satisfying dessert. I puffed away on my pipe as he ate, taking pleasure in how voraciously he attacked his food.
His workouts became brutal and I pushed him hard, harder than I ever had, but he took it without complaint. He was growing past his under six foot height to over six, then six and a half, then near seven foot. He became broader of frame too, heavier, thicker from front to back. His facial features broadened too; a wider forehead, broader chin and jaw, longer, wider nose, more prominent brow ridge, higher cheek bones and his beard grew to just under a half inch below his eyes, completely covering his cheeks in dense, thick, hair. In short it was like watching plastic surgery in slow motion as his face grew as did the size of his head. His limbs grew in length and his feet and hands became huge, he was becoming a giant among men. His cock and balls had begun growing, finishing with a thick cock just under a foot long and balls as big as large hen’s eggs.
His body hair exploded, growing rapidly over him. Parts of him that had never been hairy before, now grew hair; the undersides of his forearms, his knuckles, the backs of his hands became much more densely covered, and his tops of his arms, upper arms, and shoulders were almost as thickly covered as most men’s chests. This pattern was repeated on his legs and feet. His thickening neck grew furrier too. Before the back of his neck had little to no hair on it, now he had hair from the back of his neck that grew thickly to connect to his beard. Further, what grew in was a deeper shade of brown than before. The only thing that didn’t change about his hair was his male pattern baldness. His beard now reached to his crotch, even braided and below that when out of braids. For safety’s sake, while he exercised, his beard was kept rolled up with hair ties.
By the end of his fifth year my Son was taller, stronger and more muscular than I was. His voice box had also grown, and now he spoke in a rumbling base that made my cock and balls tingle when he spoke. He towered over me from his seven foot height, and held me in his huge arms against his round belly when we slept together. My Boy was king among men now.
On his fifth year anniversary I took my Son upstairs to my bedroom, the first time he’d been out of a dungeon-gym in all this time. I’d put a hood on him and led him upstairs. I placed him in front of a full ceiling to floor mirror, turned out the lights, and then removed the hood. I then turned on the lights and revealed his new self to him.
He was astonished, immediately his huge member grew hard. His features so altered by the injections that he didn’t look like he used to at all. He kept turning his head, side to side, to look at his profile. He was speechless for nearly ten minutes, looking at himself, at his huge hairy body, his furry butt, rubbing his huge furry, round, belly. He marveled at his thick, long nipples, each the size of the end of his pinky finger.
I said, “I have gifts for your fifth anniversary, these are very special as they belonged to my mate and I’ve just today taken them out of the freezer where I kept them to preserve his scent. I hope you like them and hope you’ll wear them”. I gave him a well-worn jockstrap first, which he put to his nose immediately and sniffed. I noted a drop of precum squeeze out of his cock as he huffed the scent of my mate’s crotch. He growled in his deep base and stepped into the jock, snugging it around his balls, soaking it with his precum.
I gave him a worn pair of greasy jeans which fit him tightly. A pair of socks which smelled like Limburger cheese. Those too he sniffed and moaned in pleasure and quickly went on his feet. A worn pair of engineer boots followed which fit his feet as though they’d been made for him. Next, a huge, black tank top which hugged his torso, as if it were painted on. A leather jacket with patches from every run and rally my mate had ever attended and finally, a leather skull cap, which completed the gear. I gave him a prepared cigar and handed him my mate’s lighter. He lit up, drew deeply on the stogie.
He looked in the mirror and began rubbing his crotch. “Fuck! I’m a BEAST!” he said and I moved behind him, took his hard cock in my hand and began jacking him through his clothes, tweaking his nipples. It wasn’t long before he roared out a mind-blowing orgasm. Snarling and growling with each wave of pleasure that crashed over him. Huffing deeply on his cigar, trembling and sweating profusely, infusing his gear with his sweat, soaking his new jock and the front of his jeans with his sperm. Eventually, as I held his bulk upright, he began to regain his composure. He turned and we gently deep kissed, him sharing his smoke with me.
“Thank you Daddy, thank you for what you’ve done to me. I’m truly a better man than I was when you took me”.
“You’re welcome son, today I give you your freedom back, but there is one last gift I would give you if you would accept it”, I said and he looked puzzled.
“What more could there be? You have made me into the man of my dreams”, he said, and drew on his cigar, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke.
“I would give you the knowledge of what I have done and the reason for it and possibly, a new life you would live as my mate. You see, I built your body so that I could create one capable of becoming what you have. The IV I gave you was an herbal formula, centuries old, that allows for your genes to be rewritten. I injected your muscles and veins with DNA samples from my mate. Your scrotum I filled with his semen. What I have done is recreated my mate in you. His genes rewrote yours. It’s why you fit into his clothes as if they were meant for you, it’s why you smell like him now, it’s why huffing his scent in them so turned you on. Look.” I said. I opened my wallet and handed him a picture of myself and my husband. The resemblance was astonishing. He didn’t look exactly like my husband. His nose was a little wider, his eyes were brown but not as dark a shade as my lost mate’s, and he looked to be a younger version of him.
“I’ve made you in his image. ,” at this point I pulled a medallion from my pocket, a golden bear’s head with sapphire eyes, “he can live once again in you. You won’t be him, but you will have his memories, his knowledge, and some of his personality. You will still remember everything about who you are, but you will also be him. Put this on, and you and he will be one.” I said and handed it to him.
He looked at the bear medallion and asked, “And… I’ll still be… me?”
“Yes, as much as I am still the young man I was before my mate gave me my medallion”, I said and pulled out a matching bear’s head with emerald eyes.
“It’s how we cheat death. Every young man who has become me is in here, we are all together, all our memories a constant thread, hundreds of years old” I said, tapping on my skull. “Put that medallion on and the magic that keep his essence within it will transfer that essence to you. You will join my mate, and all the other young men he’s been. All their knowledge and experience available to you, not to mention our shared wealth. We have, together, saved over lifetimes, adding to the riches and property we own, passing it down from one of us, to the other.”
“The formula I used on you, that was used on me, was what Ponce De Leon, what emperor Qin Shi Huang were looking for; the fountain of youth, the way to be immortal. It slows aging to a quarter of its speed, it gives us regenerative cells, and it makes changing your DNA possible so that you get the best results. In this modern age, with the advances made in genome mapping, I was able to add things to my husband’s DNA, the DNA you got injected into you. I increased the level of fur and musculature. Who knows what we will be able to alter by the time I need to be rejuvenated?”
He looked down at the medallion and asked, “I’ll still be your Son, right?”
“Actually, you’ll be my Daddy in many ways, but we can be Daddy and Son for each other”, I said, smiling up at him.
He puffed thoughtfully on his cigar for a moment, closed his eyes, lifted the chain, and put it around his neck.
He drew deeply on his cigar and staggered for a moment, eyes still shut. I pulled him into a hug.
When he opened them, he smiled. “I’m still here. I mean I’m me… I’m Travis, but… but… so much more! I remember…”
I interrupted, putting a hand on his furry cheek, looking deeply into his eyes, “There will be time to catch up, Daddy.” I said.
He laughed around his stogie, took it out of his mouth and kissed me deeply, then broke the kiss, gently biting my lower lip as he did so, “There will indeed, Son. So, have you fashioned a medallion for Henry”? He asked.
“I have,” I said, “he’s been wearing it for a while now, loading it with his essence. I’ve been preserving samples of his DNA and collecting his cum. We’ll start looking online for someone he can join with. There’s plenty of hot young men on the bear sites looking for Daddies as you well know.”
He laughed, “Yep, and I am/was one of them! Soon, there will be three of us, we won’t be just two in the world alone anymore”.
“So, Travis,” I stepped back and looked my handsome biker Son/Daddy over, “what new name do you want to give yourself on your re-birthday”?
He puffed thoughtfully for a moment, “I like my name Travis, it’s youthful and has such fresh memories that come with it… but if I’m starting over anyway, I think… I think I’d like to be Buck… it just has a bluntness, a ruggedness to it. I think it fits this hot, handsome, bear body”, He said.
I laughed, “I suppose it’s better than your name last time. Melville, really”?
“We’ve been through this, I liked his books, OK. Besides, ‘Big Mel’ sounds really impressive and macho for a biker and it was better than taking the name Herman”, he said and swatted at me.
“Now, let’s make use of that bed of ours over there, I’m horny as fuck! And if you’re a good boy after, we can go down to the dungeon and I can abuse you some before dinner”. He growled in a predatory way which sent shivers of lust through my body.
“God it’s been years since I’ve been properly tortured and fucked”, I said and he pushed me down on the bed and began stripping out of his gear, chuffing on his cigar while I took off my clothes.
“Can’t wait to try out my new freedom to fuck you. I’ve waited five years to top you, Teddy”. Buck said.
I smiled up at the naked, furry, behemoth I’d created and who now loomed over me like an Ursine God, “I’ve waited five years too, my love”. He pulled the cigar from his mouth and fed me the smoke and his spit. I was hard as he spat on the end of his cock and began working it into me. I sighed, happily, as my Daddy began taking me again, like he used to.