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Bear Island

Written by: TiranMaster

Edited by: AnotherMeekOne

Keith yawned as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was midnight and normally he was a heavy sleeper, but a strange malaise had come over him. It made everything feel warm, warm enough to break a copious sweat, but it wasn't a fever. At least, no fever the panda ever had before. "I don't wanna die before Christmas," he groaned bitterly, waddling to the bathroom.

As he went, he vaguely pinpointed that the illness started the night before. He'd been trying to make his shitty car start to leave for winter break, and another bear knocked on his window. He rolled it down, thinking it was campus security or something, but it was--no, wait, it wasn't a hobo. It was one of the professors, Keith realized now. Biology, old guy, big fuzzy mustache, prestigious. The stereotypical, eternally-sweater-vested stooge.

"Jesus..." He looked himself over. If Keith felt sick now, that guy must've been really fucked. Greasy fur, bleary eyes, just like the bear in the mirror right now. Weirder than that though, the esteemed professor hadn't said anything of value for Keith's time: the guy just mumbled something about his dick.

Dick.

Diiiick.

What a funny thing to call a penis. Big ol' dick. The bear snorted as his face twisted into a dull grin. Keith stood in the bathroom, giggling silently, until his eyes drifted between his legs.

Now that was an enormous dick.

Not just enormous, outrageously big. His dick was huge! It would put a horse to shame with how round and long it was, being at least three feet long and a foot wide. It was plump and sensitive, too. He could plug a dam with this thing, but it was probably unsafe--it was already leaking.

"HAHAHA!"

Keith laughed until he roared, and the stupid smile on his muzzle stretched somehow wider. He knew that something was very wrong. He should've been freaking out and calling a hospital. His dick was fucking huge! He'd never fit it inside someone, and his balls weren't faring much better. During the night his sack had grown until his balls were basketball-sized, swinging low enough to dangle just above the knees.

"Man..." He breathed raggedly. "That is one good looking dick."

He nodded to himself a few times. Looking back to the bedroom, he saw that his sheets were soaked with cum. So much cum that there was a literal pool of it that the bed couldn't absorb. A panda-shaped indentation in the bed, filled with cum.

He had slept in it. His entire body was sticky and wet. That couldn't be healthy, the panda knew, but he couldn't help but grin dumbly as he swung his giant flaccid cock and balls around. But--he'd always been short. If his dick wasn't touching the floor, that meant he had grown taller as well. His hands were bigger too... "Oh-h!" He moaned, slapping his big hands to his gut. His belly, too! He was fucking fat, now, a fat fuck of a bear! Whatever had happened to his penis had affected the rest of him too.

"Awesome." He needed to show this to someone, to any bear who would listen.

In fact, he knew just which bear to start with. Harold was an army bear on leave for a few weeks and came to stay at his place. They'd been friends since high school, despite Keith being a nerd and Harold being a jock. He bet a big military type would have a great dick, and if he didn't, Keith would help him get one.

That last thought stuck with Keith more than anything else. Spreading this, by force if necessary. There was no reason to resist getting a big dick or feeling so amazing. Anyone who tried would learn how great it was. The bear didn't bother to throw clothes on. He left a slimy cum trail as he walked, and Keith imagined someone slipping in it.

"...Hot." Keith couldn't really recall if he had been so enticed by dicks, or cum, or asses before, but now it was super-hot to him. Funny, that. The bear stuck out his tongue happily as he snorted in amusement. Everything was funny to him now. It was like being high, but better.

Keith had marched into his room right when he'd got home, unable to get the professor's dick comments out of his mind. He had been so very upset over it, but now, it was fucking hilarious! Something like that shouldn't have gotten to him, he'd had such a headache over it, but now he could hardly concern himself over anything but how great his dick looked!

Walking into the living room he saw Harold lying on his couch, snoring away, dressed in nothing but boxers. "Damn... Hiding away the treasure, bro." Keith tutted. Without much ado he ripped them off to see just how big the black bear was.

No one can stay asleep when their underwear is being yanked off so hard that they fly halfway into the air, so Harold's eyes flew wide open as he fell. "What the fuck?!" The army bear flopped around on the ground like a fish while Keith was roaring with laughter.

The bear jumped to his feet, his fit body tensed up like one big muscle as he grinded his teeth dangerously. "What do you think you're doing, Keith?! I'll fucking kill you--you--what the fuck happened to your--thingie?!"

It took Harold a moment to see that his friend suddenly grew bigger altogether, and his cock and balls had become monstrous attachments. As he gaped at the transformation, Keith was snorting and giggling like some proud hyena. "It's not a thingie, Harold! It's my dick!" he announced, stepping forward to wave it in Harold's face.

For some reason the word dick bounced in Harold's head with an uncomfortable echo. He managed to shake his head. "This isn't right, Keith... Something's really wrong with you! I gotta call an ambulance!" The black bear started for the phone, but Keith moved in the way. Harold felt the panda's eyes drinking him in, especially his groin.

"Ya know Harold... You should really think about making that cock into a dick! It's soooo tiny and small, but I bet it'd look much better once it was a big ol' stupid dick like mine!" Keith's tone was very unlike him. It was clownish, far too cheerful for what he was babbling about.

His words though, they were hurting Harold's mind. They were drilling in and they weren't leaving, pounding away at his thoughts, working their way in, making him--curious. What it would be like if he had a dick like that...

"Keith, you have to move... You... Your dick... It's not normal..." Harold attempted to reason with his friend, but when he said dick, it felt really good! It made him hard actually. Dick was a funny word--no--the military bear shook his head, attempting to shake the weird thoughts out. They were queer thoughts. He wasn't gay, he was a pure-blooded military man with a small dick!

The last thought escaped him as Keith snorted, poking at the cock waving between Harold's legs. Harold found it impossible to struggle. Only four inches, something that Harold had never mentioned. Now though, it was starting to drip--drip and feel awkward, numbing but pleasurable, as Harold's balls tingled in a weirdly satisfying way.

"You're gonna feel much better with a fat dick! Waving it around like me!" The panda laughed and laughed, infectiously, as Harold started to laugh too. It really was funny, wasn't it?

The black bear's dick went completely numb as it started to swell between his legs, past six... Ten... Fifteen inches and counting... His dick was growing at an unnatural rate, but Harold could only laugh like a madman. He had nothing but dick on his mind, thinking about how amazing Keith's dick looked--after all, it was huge! He couldn't wait to have a big dick. His father would probably want one too, and uncle... And his drill sergeant... And any other bears!

Harold lost track of how odd he'd felt before. No longer was it weird to be naked with his friend. He reveled in it! After all, they had big dicks! His balls dangled low as they rubbed their shafts together. He'd lost track of time. How long had it taken for his meat to get this big? When did they start making out? Not that it really mattered, they'd spent most of the time yucking it up, talking about how great it was to be so well-hung.

Not only had his dick and balls grown, but Harold was now just big in general. He'd barely noticed it, but once again he was taller than Keith. Neither of them really cared. "Hey, hey, Keith," Harold said with wild eyes.

"What's that, Harold?!" Keith bounced and giggled, frotting against Harold's new chunky belly.

"I gotta thank you for giving me a big dick too! After all," Harold turned around, and Keith was mesmerized by what he saw. "Big dicks need big buttholes too!"

It wasn't just a pucker, it was a massive wrinkled donut of a butthole. They were so focused on their hyper-sized dicks that they didn't notice the hyper-sized assholes to match. Self-lubricating dick met a self-lubricating butt, and Keith rammed Harold like there was no tomorrow.

It was insane and impossible. Keith's dick was as wide as Harold's head, but Harold took it eagerly. Keith's dick was longer than some men were tall, but it was like Harold was empty inside. They kissed and humped against each other as their dicks dripped like water faucets, sliming up their balls before they pulled apart. Harold's hole wasn't even stretched.

They needed to share this with the world. Both grinned in an unnatural way before opening the doors into the cool night air. They could smell more bears! They wanted to show off their dicks, let them feel how great it would be to have dicks like theirs, to fuck like they did, and be who they were meant to be.

***

Three Years Later.

The infection was frightening, at first. It was all over the news and everyone tried to stick a name on the disgusting outbreak--but none stuck. There was nothing to call it besides one giant clusterfuck of bears infecting other bears. It spread like wildfire, with bears across the world one day going completely bonkers, deciding they needed to show off their inflicted forms to other bears, to spread the disease that had gripped them. The world fell apart the first year--everyone was terrified of the bears, and terrified of what might happen to them.

By year two, things changed. Bears made up 16% of all sentients, which meant roughly six million bears. Half that population were males, making three million male bears. Quickly, everyone realized that only male bears were being targeted, but it was too late. Only a million of those three million were left by year two, and by the end of year three, there were only a thousand uninfected left.

It didn't take a genius to figure out after a while that the infection wasn't started physically, but rather mentally. After all, quarantines continually failed. It spread through the words of the infected, to any other male bear that would listen. Society began to move on and rebuild without them.

The infected of the world started to vanish as a new effort to clean up the mess was undertaken. All the infected bears were carted off somewhere remote--nobody really mentioned where. As for the comparative handful of uninfected bears, they were left alone, though they were tracked carefully.

As far as anyone could tell, it didn't take long for the infection to take root. In some it was nearly instantaneous, but others with enough mental fortitude could put it off days, or weeks. Always inevitable, though. They would succumb and look for other bears, wanting to spread the infection, wanting to see each other's giant dicks.

It became a joke amongst the people of the world as they realized how ridiculous it really sounded, but the bear community wasn't laughing. Those uninfected were left alone for nearly a full year to campaign or hide.

While the governments were focused on cleaning up the uninfected, they'd apparently cleared up an entire island for the population. The infected bears were obviously not quite sound of mind, but they were still living, thinking creatures--albeit with freakishly giant bodies and penises, and equally giant libidos--and the infected men did have families and friends. No one wanted to exterminate them, or anything.

It was only a matter of time though before the world powers started to speak amongst themselves. Even though the infected were locked away, some were still popping up on the mainland. Somehow, newly infected were popping up and ruining the status quo. While it was true that the bears left the other species alone, they upset the populous with their unnervingly large smiles, dripping cocks, and loud personalities. Nobody wanted to deal with them, and it was disquieting to see males stomping around with their giant junk just swinging around as if nothing were the matter.

First, male bears were banned from schools and public parks. Children had to be protected. Churches, movie theaters, and restaurants were next. Finally, all male bears were not allowed to leave their homes and were given social security benefits to survive with. Yet still, more infected. The world population of untainted bear men was down to five-hundred.

So, the governments came to a decision: why not get rid of all the male bears in the world?

With that decision, the changes started at the base level, moving the poor bears who were unfortunate enough to have dicks off to the island. The government was keeping it quiet at first, wanting to make the process secret for as long as possible, but that was easier said than done.

As they moved up through the growing populous the disappearances were becoming increasingly noticed, so after a long silence the governments of the world announced that the infection had been found dormant in all male bears (a lie) and they were taking precautions to make sure it didn't spread to anyone else through evolution (another lie).

It didn't take much to sway the people of the world to agree. After all, they'd all seen the bearpocalypse once. Nobody was excited to see it happen again, so the world took up in arms against the male bears of the world. The only ones disagreeing with this were a minority of other species, the female bears, and the males themselves. There was no stopping the flow through.

The rich bears thought that they were safe with their pounds of money, but like the rest even they were soon being pulled as the numbers of males dwindled to a handful. A few countries resisted longer than others, trying to keep their male bear population for longer, but everyone grew weary of the horny bastards.

After the year-long purge, the last plane was being loaded up full of unhappy bears. Politicians, the rich, high security, and their relatives. The guards, a lion and a wolf, were sneering at them as a particularly ornery man was attempting to fight his way out of the shipping unit they were being pressed into. "You motherfuckers! We're not infected! There haven't been any fucking infected sighted for months, you fucking dicks!" he spat.

The word "dick" made more than a few bears by him flinch, though the rest were too busy with their own problems to pay him any mind. The chuckling lion responded by popping him in the face. "Ya'll are the last shipment of bears! Ya better feel pretty pleased, cause it took quite a bit of work to get enough support ta pull ya! Now enjoy yourselves on your way to your new home! I heard there are plenty of potential mates to please ya'll."

With that he slammed the door, a lock bolting shut and leaving them all in a dimly lit room as they felt the lurch underfoot, signaling their departure. They were being airlifted into their new home.

It had once been Hawaii, but in the face of the infection, they'd evacuated the entire populace and started filling it with bears. The bear who had been yelling into the lion's face had now taken up a position in the corner of the room, growling angrily. "Those assholes! Don't they know who I am? I am Payton Dillan... The fucking creator of Pawpad industries..." he growled, which turned into a small sob.

Almost everyone knew who he was. They were all popular enough in their own rights, and he was right--Pawpad industries was the leading tablet creator in the world, both before and after the brief apocalypse. None of that mattered, now. Everyone allowed him to fume and cry; they all had other things to talk about.

Mostly bitching about their own problems, and soon-to-be-shared problem. Many of them were panicking, as they'd been able to avoid the infected bears for two years on their own lands, but to be dropped onto an island of them... Was the end.

One handsome brown bear with some grey in his fur was able to garner much of the attention in the room: Terrance Odie, the vice president. The ex-vice president. Widely popular politician, a bear for the people, and the only reason the current president had been elected. Even though they were being shipped to their doom, he still looked very respectable in his black three-piece suit.

"Everyone, everyone! Do not worry, we just need a plan! We have an hour before we touch down upon the island!" He was using that attention to try and calm anyone he could. "We must make sure that we all stay together. If we all split up, we have a very likely chance of being infected. But if we stay together, I'm sure we'll have a far better chance of being able to make ourselves a protective shelter!"

While Terrance was leading the people, his son was scowling. He'd taken up a position by a grumpy-looking black bear with sunglasses, tinkering something in his ear. The son was named Terrance Jr, but he went by Terry. His father wanted him to follow in his pawsteps, but Terry despised the very idea. He was rich, he'd been born with a silver spoon, fork, and even a spork in his mouth--and didn't want to work for it. He was spoiled, Terry knew he was spoiled, and he hardly cared.

To say the least, he didn't have many friends, and during the apocalypse he had nearly been thrown out of the shelters due to his big mouth. "What a crock of shit... He's always trying to please everyone..." he grumbled. It wasn't like Terry was trying to hide what he was saying, but the grumpy black bear was less than interested.

"If you're trying to goad me into a conversation or something, kid, go bother someone else." The black bear with the black sunglasses didn't so much as tilt his head in Terry's direction. "In fact, go bitch to Payton over there, I'm sure he'd love to get a crack at you. I've got important shit to do." His tone was deep and sharp, the kind that belonged to someone who would spit on you before saying "hi."

"...What're you doing?" Terry asked. He looked the black bear up and down: tall, approximately six-foot-six, not exactly well built. He was pudgy, had a bit of a belly, the t-shirt that he was wearing along with the blue jeans somehow seemed awkward on him--like he wasn't used to wearing any of it.

The bear he turned his gaze towards Terry, but the younger bear couldn't see his eyes behind the reflective lenses. It didn't intimidate him, especially not on a cargo plane to mindfuck island, or whatever. Terry had been dealing with such men since he was a cub, so that didn't bother him as he stared back with a defiant glare of his own.

For a moment Terry thought the bear might punch him, but after a long staredown older man groused. "Fine. I don't really intend to keep it a secret for long anyways--" and yet, he kept his voice to a whisper. "My name is Justin Lang. I'm a scientist, and I have a way out of this entire mess. I was planning on telling your father once we got closer."

Terry nodded, expecting the story to continue. Instead, he had to bother the older bear more until he did get punched in the arm. "Stupid kid..." Justin frowned widely. "I have a contact on the island. My friend, or colleague, rather. Another scientist from back home, who's been studying the infected since the start. He's trapped, but uninfected. Sent out a distress signal on his computer. There's a boat."

"How do you get trapped on a boat? Why didn't he just sail off? How's he uninfected?"

Justin grunted. "If you survive the drop, you'll see. We're gonna try and save anyone we can." Nobody was really listening to them as they chatted, so nobody batted an eye as he spoke. The self-proclaimed scientist turned an eye on them all. "Enough ego in here to sink a tanker."

Terry suddenly found himself liking this bear a lot more. He may have been spoiled, but he hated egocentric assholes more than anything--he'd met his fair share. While Terry didn't intend to follow in his father's footsteps, he respected the ex-politician for his earnest attempts to run the world smoothly.

Not that he'd ever tell his father that. "So, you have a way out. That's great!" Terry didn't really believe that his father could lead all of them into some protection without a plan, so it was nice to hear that someone had one.

Justin nodded, his face still set firmly. "I want to try and keep it quiet though. Anyone here might try to betray the rest just to get a chance to get away by themselves. I felt that the vice president would be trustworthy enough, I guess." It was altogether a very reasonable proposition, and though Justin had major grumpy face, Terry thought that the scientist might be a very good way out of this mess.

Well, there were also no other options.

"What about--"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Someone shrieked, and every head in the room turned to the source. A group of bears were backing away from Payton, and everyone could see why. His face was split up into a big grin, an uncomfortably familiar big grin. "Oh fuck! He's infected!"

The entire cargo transport went into chaos. Everyone was tramping and scrambling to get as far away as possible, and Terry found himself smashed between Justin and a wall.

"Oh god, he said dick! More of us can be infected!"

"Don't say it, you idiot!"

"Terry?! Terry--"

Payton pulled his pants down, and whatever size he was before, he was packing now. "I didn't realize how hot dicks were... God, I've been holding it back for sooooo long, stressing soooooo much about how dicks kept popping into my head... But I realized... Dicks are funny." His body was starting to change, his limbs growing longer, swelling up in an unrealistic fashion with muscle--and his eyes didn't seem to sit right in his head, looking in two different directions from sheer arousal. He moaned as he stroked a hand down his glistening cock, licking it from his fingers.

"Ya know, I bet you'd all look better with a bigger d--" Many people were already covering their ears, but a few unlucky ones were too tangled in other bears to do so. Thankfully Terry and Justin were faster than that, though Terry noticed that Justin only covered one ear--the other one had some sort of device in it.

Others in the room hadn't bothered though or didn't make it in time, a few already had dazed, happy looks on their faces--a few paid more attention when Peyton shouted at the guard, erections bulging their pants as they nodded in agreement. The others who had been unlucky enough to hear this latest trigger were wailing or crying as they knew that the words were already in their heads, even as they tried to fight it.

Peyton continued to say more, likely about dicks. He was starting to hump anyone nearby, speeding up the newly infected bears. They were all so eerily happy. It wasn't ecstatic, it was ecstasy. Slow, stupid, meandering, dazed--not bouncy, not lively, and not human. Terry felt himself panicking watching the quick transformations.

Then they hit the ground. Everyone, even the infected, stumbled as their cargo crate hit the dirt, and suddenly, Terry was staring at a sunny blue sky. He and Justin were apparently by the doors, while Peyton and the infected were wedged inside. Bears came screaming out of the cargo container--and stopped.

There were at least a hundred of them standing on the hills, overlooking the beach. Dozens of infected bears, with empty smiles and giant dicks. For a moment everything went completely still, with the uninfected looking out of the box and the infected on either side.

Terry felt a hand clamp on his shoulder, Justin's hand--and everything went to hell.

The initial rush of infected bears that had been waiting at the drop point, knowing where the new recruits would be, were welcoming them with open arms and throbbing dicks. It was a wave of them, diving and sprinting for the newbies, shouting their hypnotic words, whipping around their cocks or showing off their asses.

There must've been more men in the container than Terry realized, because the group scrambled in five directions and he still ended up with ten other bears. Terry could see his father running after him, shouting, but everyone knew better than trying to listen. Justin was yanking him along, deftly avoiding hands, hugs, and huge cocks.

Many of the bears were grabbed and forced to listen to the hypnotic words. As soon as they were infected, some of them were let go to transform, while others were planted on the ground in an eager attempt to fuck their virgin asses. Justin never let go, surprisingly. He had a free arm to pull Terry with, since that device muted one ear. Terry didn't know why the scientist had saved him, but he wasn't complaining.

They had been dropped right into a dock-side town of infected bears, with more at every turn. Looking back, he could see his father running after them.

Justin kept dodging left and right, seemingly at random, until Terry saw it--there were puddles of cum everywhere. Something about it seemed off, though. Too yellow, or maybe he'd just never seen so much cum in one place. It didn't take Terry long to figure out.

He looked back to check on his father, and his father was gone.

Frantically, his eyes darted between the many bears until he saw it. Terry was cupping his ears so tightly that he hadn't heard his father's shocked yelp, stepping into a puddle, and his feet stuck. Hard. Terrance fell face first into the gooey cum pools. Apparently, it was extremely sticky. Wherever his father touched, his father couldn't get away from it. His father was writhing, face-down in infected cum.

Terry found himself screaming. Justin continued to run forward, but already he could see several more grinning bears cumming over his father, strings of cum netting him in a cocoon as they cooed their seductive words, to the father he'd always argued with, the father that picked him up from school every day, the father that never failed to remember his birthday, leaving him completely cocooned like a doomed bug.

Justin never let go as they pushed towards some hiding place, and Terry couldn't push the image of that wriggling cum sack out of his mind.

***

On a Boat:

It was a tiny boat, in a tiny cave on the sea, rocking gently on the waves. It would've been gorgeous, if it wasn't entirely sealed off by bear cum, but Tenor settled for having wi-fi instead. The infected surrounding his boat were constantly trying to get his attention or get inside, but he sealed himself below deck. He was in what amounted to a protective bubble, with enough food for weeks.

But they'd proven to be a bit smarter than he'd given them credit for. They'd splurged all over the ship--honestly, Tenor was a bit stunned at how much spunk they could put out--thankfully, otherwise the bears couldn't affect him.

He was deaf.

They were trying to shout to him, trying to get through to him, but nothing did. Of course, Tenor had to be careful not to read their lips--he'd met a few other deaf bears who had thought themselves immune. This infection was dangerous, and so Tenor was extremely careful when dealing with it.

For the most part he kept himself occupied with reading while waiting for Justin to arrive. Speaking of reading, Tenor found out something interesting: a few of the infected made signs with the word "dick," in several ways, but reading it didn't affect him. Reading it, or hearing it over the phone or walkie-talkie, wasn't potent. Which was odd, because he knew videos worked--God, this infection was confusing.

Tenor rubbed the space between his glasses.

Before Justin had left contact range on the mainland, he'd assured Tenor that he would be able to bring something to destroy the cum webs--something they'd made when the governments were reclaiming the land from the freaky bears.

But that didn't matter unless they got here, so he was left searching for the signal to Justin's earpiece. The polar bear scowled at his computer screen--the money hadn't been worth it. The stress alone was making his fur coarse, but it was too late now. Money still mattered in the real world, and online, where no one knew he was a bear. And it was going to earn him a fuckload to guide Justin out.

The Slimers were fucking nasty with their dripping cocks, and they were rather distracting, especially when they rocked the boat as they humped against it.

"Come on, Justin, get here faster. You don't know how fucked up this place is." Tenor thought to himself, clicking away on his keyboard as he tried to locate the signal. The island was huge, one of the reasons that the government had decided to shunt the bear population of Earth here, but it made finding them much harder.

Then he noticed a light flick on the computer's monitor. A signal! He'd finally found Justin's signal! "Justin!" he shouted into the mic.

JESUS CHRIST, DON'T SHOUT, TENOR. I KNOW YOU'RE DEAF, BUT FUCK. The words crawled onto Tenor's monitor as the program translated the bear's words into text, the polar bear sinking back into his seat with a relieved sigh. He finally had his escape in sight--now it was just a waiting game.

***

On the Island:

The remaining men ran more than they'd ever had their whole lives. It only ended when their much-diminished group ducked into an alleyway, then another, and another afterwards. While Justin talked with his contact, Terry was coughing up blood. His father had been captured, turned into one of those freaks--he probably should've been more upset, but there was a lot of baggage there, and the situation wouldn't give him time to grieve. For now, he disassociated to thoughts of escaping.

"Just guide me, Tenor. Where are we going?" Justin growled into his earpiece. The older bear seemed determined to get to the escape as soon as he could, not that Terry disagreed. Meanwhile, none of the other survivors seemed interested in getting to know them, or they were too tired and sad to try. But Terry wasn't an exception to that.

Everyone had nothing to lose. There was a silent and mutual understanding between them all: "I would trip you running if it bought me another minute."

The entire island was a trap--no matter where they went there was something. Cum pits, infected bears living in houses and coming after them, and used condoms just sitting around like mines. The few unfortunate enough to demonstrate the effects got no help. The cum was too strong and sticky to break through.

Tenor led Justin led them towards the boat.

They were at least three days hike away. There were cars and other means to get around faster, but many of them had been sabotaged or had infected hiding inside. It was obvious that they'd been awaiting this round of fresh meat and laid so many traps it was obnoxious; but none of the bears wasted their breath complaining. Justin also stayed quiet, aside from talking to Tenor.

They ended up back near the coast, in an obviously different place, but it still made Terry feel like they'd made little progress. The island was more grass than trees, but there were some woodlands nearby--Justin made them turn there but stopped short. "Hold up." He raised a fist in the air, military style.

Everyone was shocked to hear the familiar strum of a guitar. Terry's first instinct was to plug his ears. On the beach, they could see a group of bears around a bonfire, swaying from side to side. "Are they... Singing?"

"Justin!" Terry said.

The black bear looked at him, and realizing it, slapped his hand over the unprotected ear. Tenor was quick to reply, but Justin was already shouting to the rest of his group. "Close your ears, now!" Justin looked at him, and Terry could see the surprise on his face. It was either gratitude or astonishment, or both, but it made Terry feel happily smug either way.

A few of the survivors around them didn't listen or were too slow, and they were caught listening to the song--loud and raucous, the infected bellowing. "OHHHH, DICKS DICKS DICKS, SLIMY WIMEY DICKS! GET YOUR KICKS BY SUCKING ON MY SHAFT, SLIPPING IN MY CUM, YUM YUM YUM~!"

Some of them attempted to fight the song, trying to close their ears too late, with the word ringing in their heads. It wasn't long before all of them were wandering towards the bonfire, while everyone else who'd managed to cover their ears slipped into the shadows. "WE ARE THE SINGING BEARS, WE LOVE AND CARES! ALL DICK LOVERS COME JOIN OUR CIRCLE, WE'LL MAKE IT A GREAT JERKIN' TIME!" The effects on those who joined the circle were fast, at least mentally. They were singing along, apparently either making up their own words or just jerking off their growing dicks.

Terry watched them join the circle, getting rough-housed by the other bears, grinning, making out, singing and eating and drinking, partying, loving every moment of it, tugged along into submissive, stupid stupors. "Should we do something?"

"What would you suggest, kid?" Justin shrugged and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him along. "Can't reverse it. Leave them. They're probably happier now, anyways." And with that, they left them behind without looking back. The group went on, hunkering down once they were all tired enough--Tenor seemed adamant about them moving on, but it wasn't happening.

As much as they wanted to, they were exhausted, emotionally depleted, and more than a little scared of bumping into the infected. Terry's dad, being vice president, used to be a great distance away from any areas like this. But the same was true for all of everyone here.

Now they were right in the middle of it. They found an abandoned motel with plenty of beds and bunkered down for the night, making sure that they were locked in--and any others were locked out. After all, none of them wanted a surprise in the middle of the night.

Terry couldn't fall asleep, despite having a bed to himself for the first time in months. The logic that the infected were happier in their new place--wouldn't that also apply to his father? To Justin? To himself? He'd never been a joyous person, really. Not that he could imagine. He was Terry the troublemaker, the spoiled brat, for as long as he could remember. An asshole. He ate expensive food, bought whatever he wanted and had more than that.

Was he ever "happy?" Not satisfied, but really, genuinely happy? Not that feeling of getting something he wanted, or eating something delicious, but happy as he imagined it--Christmas morning, or something good.

He thought it over, but nothing came.

Frowning, Terry considered it the other way around. Justin was still talking to Tenor, keeping watch over things, so Terry sat up and called him over.

"What's up?"

"You're a scientist, right?" Justin nodded. "I have a few questions about the infected."

"I don't know much. I'm a bear, not like I could study them safely. More about the whole "cure cancer" thing, y'know?"

Terry said that was fine. "So... Are the infected happy? They seem like it on the outside, but what if the real person is still in there? Forced to act that way? To do the things infected do?"

Justin scratched his head and sat next to Terry. "Well, that'd be pretty fucked up. But I can tell you for sure it's not the case. They tested that theory out a while back." Terry asked how. "Brain scans. MRIs, all that. Y'know Tenor? Annoying fuck in my ear? That was him. It was one of the first things they did--only reason they're so comfortable carting all the infected off. The person on the inside is gone."

"Like, dead?"

"Nah, it's not like being a zombie. Memories and personality is intact, but the person inside is... Rewired, I guess. Influenced, this way and that. See," Justin held both of his hands up for emphasis. "Everyone has the same kind of brain, not accounting for damage or genetic issues. It works the same way, and everything is in the same place. Why are you and I not the same person?"

Terry thought about it. "Because of neurons and stuff, right?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. Different lives, habits, DNA, it all makes sure one wire is connected while another isn't, amounting to billions of little wires that decide who we are." Justin looked out a window, into the starry sky. "The infection changes that."

Terry counted on his fingers. "Gay, horny, intent on spreading. A fetish for doing whatever they're doing. Any other wires I missed?"

"No idea. That's as far as my knowledge goes." He shrugged, patting Terry on the shoulder without looking. "Again, Tenor would know more. He studied all this stuff, specifically. The brain rewiring and all that."

"What does he need that for?"

"To get the infected off, and away from the boat. He's developed a way to get in their heads and control them. Give real simple orders."

"That's... A little mad scientist-y." Terry paused. "It only works on infected, right? I'd really hate to escape brainwash island on the hypnoboat."

"Tenor wouldn't do that." Justin looked at the floor, and Terry didn't like the look on his face. "But, I guess to answer your original question... Yes, the infected are all very happy. Happier than they'd ever been. Dopamine and testosterone out the wazoo."

"Oh..." Terry wasn't sure what answer he'd been expecting or wanting.

They were quiet for a bit, thinking about their respective lost loved ones. Then Justin bopped Terry on the head. "Don't go throwing yourself at them, kid." He growled.

"H-hey, asshole! Why would I--"

"I've seen it." Justin pointed a finger at him. "Too many times. This is how it starts. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? They're so fucking happy, after all. I've seen dozens of bears do it, and dozens more do it and fuck over everyone around them." Before Terry could get a word in edgewise, the black bear continued. "Everyone would be happier like them. It's no secret. We don't fight them because we don't wanna be happy--we fight them because it's the right thing to do. For everyone who's come before us, and after. Our lives aren't just ours, and us being happy doesn't mean anyone around us is."

Terry scowled, ready to bite Justin's prodding finger off. "Who gives a shit about anyone else? Everyone else here, including you, would ditch me at the first opportunity." Justin looked ready to respond, but he kept his mouth shut tightly.

He stood up, facing away from Terry. "I'm not arguing with you. Go to sleep, because we have a stressful day tomorrow." Their conversation was over.

***

Tenor growled as Justin and the rest of the survivors fell asleep. He wanted to get out of this fucking place, they weren't even halfway close to him yet, and the boat was currently shaking and shuddering from a mass of bears currently having an orgy on the bow. He was making sure not to look at them as they did it--not because he was worried about infection, but because it was really disgusting to see a bunch of overweight bears slamming into one another with enormous cocks.

Though the polar bear wanted to leave right now, he knew it wasn't going to happen. Not for a few days, at least. His own heavy belly jiggled as he sighed, standing up. Clambering into the back of the ship, he laid down in a bunk bed he'd been sleeping in since he'd arrived. It squeaked under the polar bear's impressive weight, but otherwise held alright.

Tenor glanced at the computer screen one more time, just in case something else was coming through. But Justin's earpiece was off, so he had no choice but to fall asleep. Though it took some time, as he felt the boat constantly rocking from the orgy going on.

***

Everyone woke up early, if they slept at all, but they had to wait for Tenor to respond. Justin yelled into his earpiece, but it wasn't exactly easy to wake up a deaf person over audio, so he laid back to wait with everyone else. Terry was anxious, expecting infected to come storming into the building.

"WELCOME THE NEW MAYOR OF SLIMY BEAR ISLAND!" Everyone in the room jumped as a voice boomed outside. Hastily, they plugged their ears and looked out the window to see the source. Terry's eyes widened in shock, along with everyone else's.

It was none other than Terry's father. Though he looked very different, now.

The once-vice president was still wearing the top part of his suit. But it was stained, coated with cum, and torn around his voluptuous gut. The bear's fur was surprisingly clean seeing as he'd been cum-cocooned just the day before, but it was obvious that he was infected--that grin, and the enormous shaft between his legs said so.

Terrance was parading about with several other bears, handing out fliers to any other infected bears that would listen, apparently shouting to all of them of his plans to become mayor of the island. Terry was disgusted, seeing his father's dribbling cock slathered with juices, and his ass was currently pressed into another bear's face.

He couldn't stop watching.

"WE ARE ALL BROTHERS, WE ARE ALL A FAMILY: A FAMILY IN NEED! IN NEED OF DIRECTIONS FOR OUR ERECTIONS! I WILL GUIDE YOU ALL!"

A growing part of him was impressed that in such a short amount of time, his father had taken the initiative to become a leader of this corrupted island's community. The feelings were rapidly overtaking his disgust at an unnatural rate.

Terry, and all the bears felt similar feelings of admiration and pride swell in their chests. Before any of them could stop it, they felt their pants swelling too. They stood gaping in the hotel window, ears plugged, and yet were completely absorbed in Terrance's speech.

Even Justin was caught off guard. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes were glazing over just like everyone else. He found himself nodding, slowly. The new mayor was so right, so sexy, so charismatic. Justin wanted to be the bear eating out his ass... Sniffing the mayor's armpits, reveling in that fucking manly sex-smell...

The rest of the bears were faring no better. Terry had his hands down his pants, and others had pulled them down to stroke. Oblivious to their own incoming doom, mumbling praise for the new mayor. Everyone's new leader.

None of them noticed their fingers weren't in their ears.

"JOIN ME! I WILL LEAD, AND YOU WILL FOLLOW! I AM THE NEW MAYOR, THE NEW RULER OF THIS ISLAND! OF ALL BEARS!"

Justin's sunglasses went slack on his face as he moaned, tongue out like a stupid animal. Their group of survivors stopped huddling around the window and headed towards the doorway. Already, a few bears were removing the furniture they'd used to secure the place. Hard cocks, staring dreamily into space, smiling like idiots. They were all so, so stupid compared to the mayor. The mayor was smart. Sexy. Worthy to lead. They wanted to follow.

They wanted to be infected and join the mayor's party.

"THE MORE THE MERRIER! SLIMERS WILL RULE! WE WILL BE HAPPY SLIMERS, AND OUR COLLECTIVE CUM WILL MAKE THE GREATEST POOL OF ALL!"

"I wanna be part of the pool!" Terry said dimly.

"No..." Justin said. "I'm gonna be part of the pool! It's all going in my ass, after all!" His sunglasses were skewed, revealing a spiraling, captivated gaze. Justin's pants were down, and he was fingering himself, spreading his hole, while watching Terrance speak. "I wanna sniff his taint! Sit on my face, Mr. Mayor!"

The moment the blockade was removed, some bears were out the door. Bouncing in their steps, giddily, giggly, entirely lovestruck--or loyalty-struck, by Terrance. None of their previous, forgotten idols could compare to the new mayor. Terry seemed more out of it than the rest, eager to be turned by his father, to follow in his father's paws--and give those sweaty paws a tongue bath.

Justin was doing no better. For some reason, all he could think about was how it must smell. The mayor's armpits, his feet, cock, ass, his cum-soaked breath--Justin wanted to memorize the smell of everything. The smell of rampant sex was choking the island as-is, since they arrived, but now his nostrils were flaring for it. He was losing his mind.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Augh, fuck!" Justin clutched the side of his head, trying to tear off the earpiece, until the noise stopped on its own.

"JUSTIN!" Tenor roared. "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Rapidly, Justin realized his pants were around his ankles, and his cock was extraordinarily hard. Pulling them on, his head swiveled--he was the only person left in the room. "NO!"

He ran out the door.

He saw Terry and five other bears in-line, ready to leave the motel. Some of them were already outside, exposing their location. Grinning like loons, humping against each other--

Justin didn't know he could run that fast. Before he was aware, his body slammed against the wooden door before anyone else could spill outside, forcing himself between the exit and the enraptured survivors. Without warning, he slapped the first person he saw. Then the next, then the next, and the next. "Get your fucking acts together and plug those ears!"

Justin was red-faced, as was everyone else, from both the rough slapping and embarrassment. Some of them looked ready to cry in shame, but no one had the time. Several from their group had waddled outside, straight into the new mayor's hands. They were going to check this place, now.

"We have to run, and we have to run quietly," Justin hissed. Everyone had snapped out of it by now, stuffing their cocks back in their underwear bashfully.

Except Terry. The young grizzly seemed dazed and confused as to why they weren't frolicking outside, wearing a wistful smile and a big boner. Justin realized, then, that he hadn't slapped him.

Justin froze. "Shit..." For some reason, this felt different than last night's cuff on the head. Terry was completely out of it and practically emanating bliss, with an innocence only created by wiping his brain clean. The hesitation lasted longer than Justin would've liked, and he found the other survivors running in the other direction. "Sorry, kid."

He slapped Terry across the face, and instantly, the spell was broken. Also instantly, Terry went flying backwards, having been caught completely off-guard. Panicked, his eyes met Justin's, for the first time without sunglasses, and he saw his own cock ragingly hard between his thighs. "W-what did..."

"Explain later! Run now!"

Justin hurled him to his feet, and on shaky legs, Terry yanked his underwear on. He made sure to grab his pants that he'd left on the motel floor.

They sprinted through an emergency exit, past a parking lot, and into a department store a few buildings down. Plugging their ears, the whole time. Luckily, it seemed that the infected were more interested in Terrance than them, because the escape went unnoticed.

They hid in a backroom, and it became obvious then that their group was decimated. Only eleven were left, when they started with twenty this morning. Terrance stayed in the area for about an hour, marching about, shouting out his messages that none of the survivors heard. They kept their paws over their ears, almost painfully so--they didn't want to risk hearing any mention of dicks. They were lucky they hadn't.

Luck, or something else. Justin was frustrated seeing the bear he'd intended on partnering up with acting that way. But more than that, it was the first time he'd ever heard one of the infected avoid using "that" word entirely. He was puzzled. They'd absorbed every word in the new mayor's campaigning, but no mention of dicks.

"Is everyone okay?" The rest of the bears gave tired affirmations, except one. "Terry?"

Terry was holding his face, staring at the dirty concrete floor. He was pale, ghostly pale. "I'm okay."

"You sure?" Terry nodded. He wasn't in the mood to talk, and Justin understood.

By the time the politician and his entourage were gone, Tenor finally spoke up. "Rested up yet?"

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Justin answered--knowing that no matter how impolitely he said it, Tenor wouldn't hear the tone. "Yes, we're ready, where are we going next?"

And so, they were on the move again, making their way across the island, walking through abandoned parks and streets.

"They called themselves 'slimers.'" Justin spoke constantly to Tenor, keeping an eye out as they went. He seemed intent on making sure that Terry didn't "randomly" disappear.

"And they didn't say the d-word once?" Tenor asked.

"No."

"Bizarre, bizarre." Through the earpiece, the sound of a clacking keyboard. "No data there. Not that I can see. I thought you guys were goners! You went fucking bananas."

"Yeah..." Justin swallowed. "Hey, did you... Use the signal on me?"

Though there were plenty of bears wandering about, fucking on the pavement, in the grass, sometimes even in trees, the survivors had to be careful not to be caught. A few of them did disappear before the others noticed, some got captured by the infected openly, and others gave up out of disbelief in their own escape. The remainders trudged along.

"It looks like the infection's developed." Tenor was comforting, though obvious. "I've never heard of anything like this, and it's really not coming up anywhere. These are changes exclusive to the island residents... Well, it's not like the government would let info like that leak. I wonder if they they're observing this place at all."

"They're even more dangerous now?" Justin pressed on. The rest of the survivors gave him worried glances.

"Dunno," Tenor said. "You guys didn't get infected, after all. Looks like there's ways to control us without necessarily having to do that." It was said nonchalantly, but Justin felt shivers down his back. "Mr. Vice President seems strong enough to corral the infected bears around him like magnets to a fridge. I'd call it a, uh--charisma thing. You weren't stupid enough to look at his lips when you plugged your ears, right?"

"No." They were really in the wilderness, now. A few hours of walking and they'd gone from concrete to rolling, grassy hills. It was beautiful, seeing the island for miles all around, and terrifying.

"So just looking at him and being nearby was enough to get you fucked. They've found ways to brainwash bears from a distance, without that little audio cue." Tenor went uncharacteristically silent. "That's a problem."

"We're leaving, and they won't be able to get us. If they evolved, they're a bit late on usefulness." Justin's grip on his earpiece tightened. "What I want to know is whether these 'developments' include... Infecting other species."

The entire group had their eyes on Justin and his conversation.

"I doubt it," Tenor replied.

By the middle of the second day, they were down to just four of them: Justin, Terry, and two other bears that had managed to make it this far. They were both rather young, even younger than Terry. One of them was only nineteen, the other twenty-one.

"I never got to drink..." the nineteen-year-old whined.

"It's not that great..." the twenty-one-year-old mumbled.

Terry disagreed. He'd love to get lost in some booze. Justin didn't bother to answer, he'd given up the drink a long time ago. He had no intention of slipping into it ever again... But admittedly, this island was a rather tempting case for him to get back on the bottle.

The air was chilly on them, even with their fur, but they were very far from the equator. Cold breezes and moisture carried on the air, so none of them were too surprised, but still it wasn't pleasant. Terry wished he'd brought a jacket. Or hell, he just wanted to sit inside one of the houses and hibernate there until summer.

Wait, they were in the southern hemisphere. It was summer. Why was it so damned cold? "Ughgh..."

Justin was fit and didn't seem to mind the chill. He looked more like a bodyguard than a scientist, and the thought didn't leave Terry's mind. Scientists didn't have to be skinny nerds or fat dweebs, he theorized, but it was odd. Justin was walking far ahead of them now, while the younger three dragged behind.

Everyone was exhausted and distracted.

By their own thoughts, by watching over their shoulders, and in Justin's case, talking with Tenor, but Terry was paying more attention to the scenery. They were walking in the middle of some forestry, along a root-ridden path. It was a lot of grass, flowers, the overpowering scent of cum everywhere, and...

Musk.

Justin continued walking forward, chatting with Tenor, but Terry found his attention drifting to the left. Into the woods, wherever that smell was coming from, but it was also where the other two survivors were walking.

Terry found himself slowing down suddenly as he caught the whiff of it. Musk, very strong musk, strong, overpoweringly masculine. It went from tickling his nose to feeling like he'd buried it inside a sweaty gym coach's jockstrap. Terry had never been a sporty guy, but for some reason, his head was flooding wItH IMageS Of FootBAll, LockeR rOomS, aNd MANly CAMARAdERie. BrOs being bROS. fRaTErNItIes--fRat BOyS, UNsHOWEREd and taking hits off each other's armpits. Sweaty, greasy jocks and frat bros and gym coaches and jockstraps and sports teams and DIRTY, DIRTY MEN. Then, on a dime, his head was buzzing with fantasies of trucker bears, stuck driving in their cabs for days, and weeks, loving the way their scent soaked into the dashboard and seats. To ride WItH one Of thosE tRUCkERs, tO sOAk IN ThE ScENT MOre thaN THE uPHolSTeRy, tO be hIS Ride-alOng BiTch, tO GiVe him morE rELIEF ThAn aNY gloRyHoLe AT OnE oF tHe sTOPS, AlL JUSt TO gEt mORE wHifFs oF THAt odOR, That mANLy Odor. TeRry'S aRMS DANgLeD AT His SIDEs, cOcK TEntING hiS PANTS, breAthinG deSPerately deeP. He wanted THe coAch to whisper in his ears, and feel the fat, sweaty body press against him, the musk so powerful it makes him STOP THINKING, telling Terry all about his newfound love for football, and Terry is just totally hypnotized, brainfucked, eager to join.

He wanted to be indoctrinated by one of the frat bros, hazed and forced to eat out every single one of their swampy asscracks, and FOR everY ripE HOle EaTen, hE'D saY, "PLEASe sIr, maY i HAVE ANOtheR?" aND he WoUlD NeveR bE finISHed, THEY'D JUst pAsS HIM AROUnD FOrEVEr, a slavE to tHeiR smell, A stUPId fRAT BrO tIL tHe enD, bRaINWAShed TO bITs anD lOVINg eVEry MomEnT, UNAble tO EScapE, nOT WAnTinG To eSCape, MADe inTO oNe Of tHoSe stUPid "CHAD" BROS LIKE HE USED TO ALWAYS MAKE FUN OF, BUT HE'D LOVE IT, HE'D FUCKING LOVE IT AND HE'D WRITHE IN IT. HE WANTED THe truCKER DadDY To SteaL Him awAy FroM His FaMilY AND REEdUCaTE HIM as A MUskSlut, anD hE'D Be The beST MUSksLuT EVer, tHe TRUcker WOUlD Be So impreSSed wiTh tErry's prOgRess thAt he wouLdN't nEeD THE HAndcuffs aFter JusT A fEW days, He'D wEaR THE tRuCKEr's dirTY cloTHes JUsT tO iNHalE tHe sCEnT aND let It aBSoRb InTo His Fur, MARK HIM, OWN HIM, sO EVerYONe, iNcluDINg HIMSElf iN hIs braIN, woUlD knoW hE bElONged To DadDY, HIs TRUCkEr daddY, hiS MUSK PAPA, he waNteD TO BE A STupiD FUCking MuSK hUFFiNg BeAr. TERRY WAS A STUPID MUSK FUCKING BEAR WHO WOULD JUMP OFF A BRIDGE TO gEt A WHIFf OF sOMe SMElly UndERWeaR, he wAntS to Be a HAPPY MUSKEr, TO spReAd the StINk woRLDWiDE, To Be PasSed aRound Like A GOOD LITTLE STUPID BITCH HE KNOWS HE IS. TERRY OBEYS. TERRY HAS ALWAYSHAD A MUSK FETISH. TERRY HAS BEEN A MUSK FETISHIST SINCE HE WAS YOUNG, HE STOLE HIS DAD'S SOCKS, AND WHEN HIS DADCAUGHTHIMHISDADTOTALLYPRESSEDHIS SMELLY MUSKY FEET IN TERRY'S FACE, TERRY LOVES SMELLY FEET, HE LIVES FOR SWEATY ARMPITS, HE SUCKS UNWASHEDCOCK AND SNIFFS ASS LIKE A DOG, HE LIVES FOR STINK, HE IS STINK ONTHEINSIDEANDOUTSIDEHE WOULD BETRAYEVERYONE AROUND HIM TO BECOME A MUSKER AND OBEY AND JOINTHEGROUP AND SPREAD THE GOODWORDTERRY WANTS JUSTIN TO JOIN TOOAFTER ALLJUSTIN SMELLSSOFUCKINGGOOD, TERRY CUDDLED UP TO JUSTINLASTNIGHTANDBLEWHISLOADSNIFFINGTHOSESWEATYUNDERARMS, TERRY WANTS JUSTIN TO DOMINATE HIM, TERRYMUSKWANTSJUSTIN'SSCENT ALLOVERIMTERRYISASLUTFORMUSKANDWANTSJUSTINHENEEDSJUSTINTORUBHIMDOWNAND

BECOMEAMUSKERTOOEVERYONECANBEAMUSKERTERRYFEELSTHESTINKINHISBRAINANDHEOBEY

STERRYOBEYSTHEODORTERRYLOVESMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

"W-wooow..." Terry breathed, and his eyes rolled up to the whites. Everything went blurry as the young brown bear started towards the smell. It smelled so strong, he needed to get a good whiff of it, like a horrible smell you just must get a good whiff of. That made sense. He loved the smell of musk. It was comforting. He was always playing sports, hanging around older men his father knew. He was raised in a smelly family, of smelly bears. All bears were smelly, really. It was just their nature. Terry was an athletic bear. He was always musky. Being an athletic bear, Terry, please run faster.

Run. You're almost there. Ignore the shouting. Come to your brothers. Your group. Where you belong. You can be who you really are, with no walls between us. Forever.

Faster. Don't let him catch you. Make him follow. The more Muskers the better, Terry.

Terry sped up as he practically ran towards it. He NEEDED that scent, nothing else mattered, he needed to shove his face into that musky place and just SLATHER it with his tongue--

A hand clamped over his nose, pulling him back and up against a tree in one smooth motion. He struggled, biting, trying to scream for it, wanting that smell in his nostrils again, needing it, kicking at whoever was foolish enough to separate him and destiny.

Then he blinked a few times, the smell dissipating, and his thoughts becoming coherent once more.

"Wha... What the... Fuck..." he moaned, and slumped, the energy leaving his body. Justin held him closely in a tight bear-hug, glaring at him as he kept his hand clamped onto the youth's muzzle.

"Breath through your mouth! Only your mouth!" he snapped. Though Terry was slightly saddened by the loss of the musky scent--then he realized what he'd just thought and started breathing through his mouth. Terry closed his eyes and went limp in Justin's strong arms.

Justin frowned widely, but hoisted Terry onto his back. The young brown bear was completely dead weight--whoever, or whatever did that to Terry, it was like he'd been puppeted. He danced himself to exhaustion for their entertainment, and with the strings now cut, the puppet laid still. Justin peered around the trees, breathing ragged with just his mouth.

There was a group of infected, but they were different... Their cocks were huge still, and their eyes were certainly glazed, but... Different. They were separated by a running river, with the infected on one side and Justin on the other. He was hiding behind the trees, but it was pointless. Every bear in that group was staring at him.

And yet, they didn't move. They stayed away from the water, and that's when Justin understood what they were all about. Their pelts were greasy-looking with cum and sweat stains, and their armpit hair seemed incredibly bushy. While Justin had pulled Terry aside, the other two survivors weren't as lucky. They were busy digging into the armpits of a bear doing an overhead flex for them.

These infected were ripped. Their muscles were huge, and they had visible abs under their fur, compared to the fat of the other bears. The flexing bear held their attention while the other members of their group were busily whispering into their ears, and it didn't take a genius to guess what language was being used. Already their pants were growing taut around their crotches, but more than that--their bodies were pumping up. They were gaining muscle that lifelong gym rats could only dream of.

The bears who weren't busy stared at him from across the river, not daring to cross and risk losing some of their potent smell. He was carrying Justin on one shoulder and holding his nose with the other. At this distance, even breathing through the mouth wasn't preventing that noxious musk from seeping in, so he had to risk it. Justin had to run--if he heard that word, it was game over.

But he couldn't move, despite himself. A few of the sweaty, muscular bears came forward. "We can smell it on you," one of them said. "You're no ordinary marked, bro."

"Marked?" Justin found himself asking.

"That's what we, infected, refer to you, uninfected, as. Marked. Bro." A big polar bear pointed at Justin, staring him in the eyes. "But you're not like us."

"And you're not like them..."

They smirked, peeling the clothes off the new inductees. "No. We're better." And placed a baseball cap on each one, before spinning it backwards. "Hunkier. I mean, your little friend liked us!"

Justin shook his head, scowling as he looked at all the bears. None of them wore clothing aside from those caps, turned backwards like they were all part of some gang--though that might be applicable, as these bears were obviously different from the normal ones.

Without any more conversation, he sprinted in the opposite direction. It wouldn't be long before those last two were finished transforming, and they'd figure out a new route. Fast. It wasn't like he could help them, they were already twice their normal size and their cocks had ripped through their pants. He made sure to keep breathing through his mouth as he moved on.

The two survivors were busy being indoctrinated into the Muskers.

The group of stinky bears chuckled deeply as their two new recruits mumbled about dicks, musk, and working out their hot new bods. Dumber than hell. Their compatriots were glad to oblige the new urges as they fucked the two new brutes from both sides.

However, none of them were satisfied. Sure, it was a good fuck, but the big prize just got away. With a new "mayor" going around wrangling up infected and uninfected alike, they needed an edge.

They managed to find one. Between taking their dickings, the newbies told them something interesting. The Muskers would have to work fast, but they knew this island by now, and how to get there.

***

On the Boat:

The sun was setting on another gorgeous, debaucherous day on "hellhole island," as Tenor called it. Another day, another bowl of ramen, slurped down by the polar bear. His fifth cup of the day. He was a bit thankful that there were only two survivors coming. It wasn't like Tenor wanted people to be corrupted, but. More food for him.

He watched the blip on his map continue to mark their location on the island, slowly towards him. He didn't really have to change directions for Justin and Terry now, it was just another day before they reached the boat. He was still stressed, but it wasn't like he could do anything, and they would make it soon enough. Justin would bring the cum eroder, his signal would get the infected bears off the boat, and they would be on their way. Assuming they arrived in one piece.

The polar bear sighed, patting his stomach in relief. He couldn't help but be concerned--infected bears continued to mill about the boat. But the signal had proven effective twice now when they got a little too rowdy. One more day and he'd be infection free.

The boat rocked, suddenly, as a new bear jumped onboard. Then another, and another. At least four. More weight than usual. Tenor hopped in surprise, he always did when a ton of them came, but he relaxed in his computer chair.

They were going to try something new. Only the most fucked-up ideas. Maybe the mayor was coming by? Tenor made sure to keep all eyes away from the windows. It hadn't been difficult to zonk the survivors earlier, and he wouldn't be able to wake himself up... Of course, if he wasn't paying attention, then they could get him anyway.

Tenor found his face in his hands, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. "Just end this nightmare already..." Using the signal immediately came to mind, but it'd take too long to set-up. Sleeping was another option, but it was too early in the day for that.

After some debate and slumping back in his seat, Tenor kept his eyes on the screen, deciding to focus his attention on the internet. The boat was shaking like crazy, but boats were supposed to. Out on the water. It was logical.

...Whatever orgy was going on top-deck, it was getting lively. Tenor could hardly play minesweeper without the whole boat shifting around.

"God damn it." With a sigh, he started setting up the signal. It would take a bit to load, but he couldn't risk something going wrong when he wasn't prepared.

As he typed on the keyboard, if he could hear, he would've realized one of the newcomers were climbing on top of the cabin. The boat was shaking with too many bears to pick out any specific ones, and Tenor felt his fur stand on-end. It felt like they were rocking the boat just for the sake of rocking it--if they were going to sink the ship, he would be forced to leave! "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..."

The annoyed typing turned frantic, pounding at the keyboard. Everything would be fine, he told himself. This is how he always panicked when they tried something new, and it would be fine, just like every other time. If the worst-case scenario came, there were tranquilizers in the chest, and in five seconds, he'd be out cold. Being asleep meant not hearing that word, and not hearing that word meant no infection. He'd be safe, or he'd drown, and either was preferable to infection.

On-deck, just above Tenor's sealed-off cabin, an infected polar bear started rubbing his hands over the cool metal floor. Feeling for something important. It was an old ship, and it was as secure as a bank vault, but not from him. Soon enough, he found it: a large tube, bent horizontally with a gaping opening.

The air vent. Too small for even the smallest infected bear to crawl inside, but the perfect size for something better. The infected grizzly with the backwards cap turned around and pressed his giant ass against the opening, sealing it shut. The other Muskers gathered around him, giggling at the insidious prank.

At first, there was no sign of anything wrong. Dealing with getting a computer working inside of a cave in the middle of nowhere on a boat was shitty, and it made the program activation equally so, but Tenor estimated it'd start within a few minutes.

Then the smell hit him, his eyes widening as the heady scent slammed his nostrils.

Immediately, he knew there was something very wrong. He'd read the transcripts of what Justin and Terry had met--but being deaf, his other senses were enhanced--his sense of smell was extremely strong. He coughed at first, panicking as he tried to breathe through his mouth.

He could taste it on his tongue, and he took another whiff of the musk and then another. Tenor tried to resist, tried to push it out, but despite his own resistance, it was swirling in his lungs, contaminating him. The smell of sweaty bear butt was sticking to his nose like superglue.

"O-oh--fuck--" Tenor groaned, and his pants became uncomfortably tight around the crotch. "N-no..." He bit his bottom lip, hands clenching the computer console so hard it might break. The smell, and the way it was making him feel, was raw and primal and oh-so-brutish. His whole body was warm, and his hardening dick was liable to pop out at any moment, if he didn't free it first.

Breathing through his mouth became guttural, panting, tongue-out snorts of the tainted air. Rapidly losing himself, eager to get filled with the smell flooding the cabin. After all, Tenor had aLwaYS been a big nerd, a perVERted one at that--he jerked off to the smeLL OF hIS armPITs after a long day's work, more than once. Of COURSE he did. He also NEVER wore deodorant. That's why he came to this island. TeNOr camE To THE ISlaND wIllINgLy, EnTirElY WILliNgLy, jUst sO HE CouLD Be a SEXY, MUSKY BEAR, AS hE ALWAYS WANted tO be, freely.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Tenor screamed, half-pleasured and half-terrified. His cock sprang free of his trousers, and he was gripping it, pumping it, and the whole "breathe through the mouth" trick wasn't working in a sealed cabin, like it had for Justin out in the wilderness. No wind to carry the scent off, nothing to distract or get in the way, nothing to stop it from completely soaking inside.

The program still needed time. If he took the tranquilizers, he'd just be breathing in the musk while he slept, and he'd wake up in it, and he'd be toast. He slammed his hands on the keyboard, waiting for it to load, and his body was failing him. When did he stop breathing through his mouth, and start snorting the stink up his nose like a cocaine addict?

Tenor's eyes rolled to the whites, and his cock spasmed, shooting a fresh load of precum. He was leaking everywhere, drooling from his mouth and drooling from his cock. His shaft felt great, pressing up against his big belly, but he wished--he'd always wished he could be more fit...

What a weird thing to think about, of all times. Tenor was always fat, for as long as he could remember, and he was picked on for it. Going to the gym sucked, P.E. classes sucked, and everyone making fun of him sucked. thAt'S RiGHT, TENOR. He couldn't hear it, obviously, but they were aLWays making fun of him. His "friends," his family, his colleagues at work, and the sTUPiD suRvIvORs he'd been guiding this whole time, they ALL made fun of his weight. He wasn't happy about the way he looked. He was happy as himself, sure, but self-improvement seemed impossible. Then he heard about the infection. He studied it, and his fascination grew, but it wasn't for him. The infected bears got fatter! Tenor didn't want that. So, when the government shipped off all the bears, Tenor hid away. At LeaSt UNtIL soME hUnKiEr, SmElLieR BeaRS woULd ComE to CoNvErT HIm. thE MUSkErS woulDn't maKE FuN OF him. tHEY UndErsTOOd, And THEy wERe heRE tO helP. The mUskErS wOULD GIve teNoR eVERythIng he WAnteD, anD HE'd bELong, AnD he'D Be A HOt muScuLAr FUCk. hIS DREAM body.

There was nothing wrong with wanting to choose, when so many other marked didn't get the chance to. If one of the Slimers infected him, he'd get even fatter, and he'd live a solitary lifestyle--what would be different? WHAt would be THE POInT? nO, TenOR waNtS BROS. HE wAnts muScLE. hE WAntS mUsK. TeNor ALWAYS LOVED The sMell OF MUSk. HE LiKeD wearIng hiS UnDerWeAr fOr weeKs, uNtIL It GOT SmelLy ENOUgH For HiM TO MASTURBATE TO THE ODOR. he Liked turNinG THe HeAt IN HIs APartmenT UP AND GEttIng sWEAtY, FEeliNg SEXY AND FEelINg POWERFUL, lETtiNg hIS sCENt Be pOwerFuL, anD LETTING HIMSELF GO. TENOr waS ALWaYs a MusKEr. tHe mUSkers CouLD teLL, EVeRY iNFECTED COuLD teLL, wHiCH MaRkED wENT WHeRe. it waS DestINY. thE MuskERS, And tHeIr SEXY MUSK, AnD MUSCLES, WERE ALL tenoR wantEd. MUSK WAS HIS LIFE. HE WANTS TO JOIN THEM, TO OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, AND STOP BEING A PUSSY ABOUT IT. TENOR CAN'T RESIST ANYMORE AND HE WON'T TRY. TENOR'S GOT MUSK ON THE FUCKING BRAIN AND HE LOVES IT, HE'S A FAT FUCK WHO'S GONNA BE A BEEFY BRO, GONNA DRAIN HIS BRAINS INTO HIS BALLS AND CUM THEM OUTFOR MUSK, TENORWANTSTO TURN THE WHOLE ISLAND INTO A MUSKER PARADISE AND HE'LL HELP HISBROS DO THAT HE'S AHAPPYMUSKERMUSK SMELL STINK ODOR SCENT AROMA WHIFF SAVOR IT, FUCKING SAVOR IT, BECOME ONE OF US, TENOR, AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOORTOGET MORE MUSKTO GET INFECTED FINALLYMUSKYDICKS AND MUSKY PITS FOR YOU BRO IT'LL BE AMAZING AND YOU CAN FEEL THE ONLYTHEMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

MUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSKMUSK

Tenor stumbled towards the exit, almost falling over himself in the attempt.

Opening it was as easy as pressing his clammy paws on a scanner, and it swung open. A massive, greasy grizzly bear stood waiting, having to duck to get through the door. He smelled wonderful, musk pouring off him, his armpits so hairy, his cock so huge--that part didn't excite Tenor as much as the smell, until the grizzly lifted his head, and made him read his lips:

"See my dick? You like dicks, don't you? Dicks are great. Musky dicks are even better..." The word bounced Tenor's mind, but he didn't care anymore, he agreed! It sounded nice in his head. He liked dicks! They were hot, his dick was hot, he wanted to see lots of dicks!

A buffoonish smile spread on Tenor's face while the grizzly daddy stripped him, unceremoniously, but replaced his clothes with a backwards cap. His pants wouldn't be able to handle his new dick anyway, expanding almost as much as he was. Tenor's balls distended, and his cock grew thicker, impossibly thicker, as his body swelled up in size, bumping his head against the roof, even as he took great heaving breaths of the Musker's stink.

Fat didn't melt from his body, it was just distributed evenly from his giant gut to everything else. His arms grew thicker, thicker than even the grizzly bear rubbing him down, but it was layered in fat instead of sheer muscle. Tenor was still wide, but his pecs ballooned, and his stomach firmed up into a six-pack. "Oooh, bro--" Tenor said.

"Yeah bro? You okay?" The grizzly, now Tenor's equal in size, freed him from the hairy armpits. At first it seemed Tenor took some of that armpit hair with him, but it was a new beard. A fuzzy black beard, as grimed as any other part of him. Tenor was a massive, spiral-eyed cross between a jock stereotype and a daddy stereotype.

"Yeah, bro! ...I... Can... Hear?" Tenor's eyes went wide. The grizzly nodded sagely. "I can hear!" It was Tenor's turn to pull the grizzly in for a hug. He started babbling incoherently, usually variations of the same declaration. "I can--I can hear again, I never--" He felt tears start to form in his eyes.

"Let it out, bro." The grizzly just kept nodding and patting Tenor's back, and Tenor cried, and he couldn't stop crying, but his converter had all the time in the world to hold him while he did.

The other Muskers poked their head in the cabin, though there wasn't nearly enough room for just Tenor and the grizzly, let alone the whole group. "That's really fucking sweet, bro." One of the Muskers said. "I'm, like, touched." A chorus of "yeah, bro" and congratulatory whooping noises echoed in the cave. They were proud to have a new, smelly member.

By the time they separated, the smell of the place was debilitatingly ripe. Their scents intermingled as a near-visible cloud in the cabin. Tenor wore the same wide, happy grin as any infected. "I love ya, bros..."

All around him they snickered, and the grizzly walked him towards the door. "He's been missing out, bros. You thinking what I'm thinking?" All the Muskers started getting excited, so excited they were rocking the boat again. "Brain blast!"

The Muskers started chanting. "DICKS, DICKS, DICKS, DICKS, DICKS, DICKS!"

He'd read the grizzly's lips, but nothing prepared Tenor for hearing the real thing. His semi turned into a raging boner again, and he went cross-eyed, but the Muskers didn't stop. He was a Musker now too, so naturally, Tenor also began chanting too. "DICKS, DICKS, DICKS!"

Within minutes, Tenor was bent over and losing his virginity, gleefully, while taking turns giving all the other Muskers rimjobs. It might've had something to do with the odor that brainwashed him in the first place, but Tenor took to eating ass like a moth to light. He was practically facefucking the rest of the crew, literally, and Tenor thought it tasted amazing, and smelled even better.

He wanted to do nothing but indulge in the swampy asscracks of his peers, but the bears had another plan for him, it had to do with Justin and Terry--yes, they needed to have big dicks too, slimy cocks, musky pits, and--for Tenor in particular--giant smelly asses! He was turned towards the computer, dizzy from inhaling musk fumes, and his bros noticed a weird program on-screen. It was all set-up and ready to work.

Instantly, Tenor knew exactly how he'd complete this mission...

***

On the Island:

On the Island:

Terry was busy taking a bathroom break in a nearby house--with Justin standing outside the door, in case of an emergency. He didn't know why Terry wouldn't do it out in the open, there weren't any police to catch him in the act--at least, police that weren't fucked in the head.

The black bear growled. Terry had been thanking him since he woke up on Justin's back, and he didn't need that. He was a scientist, not a babysitter, and not someone for gratitude.

And yet, that brought his mind to an alternative scenario where he didn't save Terry, and his stomach churned.

"Tenor, are you there?" Radio silence was established a while ago, per Justin's request, but now he needed conversation. "How far are we from the boat?" There was no answer, and Justin rolled his eyes. He'd be pissed off if Tenor decided to snooze while they were on their way. "Come on, Tenor, give me something," he said.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Through the earpiece came piercing white noise, like microphone feedback.

"FUCK! What the hell?!" Justin reached to grab at the earpiece--and found that his body was suddenly very numb. His arms fell to his sides, and his mind suddenly felt like it was being bleached. The earpiece was noise-cancelling, both ways. For as loud as the sound ringing in his ear was, anyone on the outside couldn't tell.

"No... Tenor, what's ha--happen... Uh... Duh..." The black bear's face went blank, with his mouth hanging open. Behind the sunglasses Justin's eyes rolled to the whites, and his thoughts deadened entirely.

A voice came through. "Dicks, love dicks, you are a dick whore, you're a fucking dick guzzler," Tenor's voice came through the white noise like warm slime in his ears. "Dicks, dicks, dicks..." Justin groaned dimly as the word bounced in his skull.

"Dick... Guzzler... Dicks, I... No... Not... Dick... No..." he resisted as much as possible. He could feel something was off. The word still held power, but it wasn't turning him into an infected.

There was a short pause while Tenor waited to hear Justin change, but nothing came. He growled. "Fuck, I forgot." Videos and lip-reading worked, but phone calls and radio didn't. Something about seeing the infected was obviously part of the trigger.

Tenor regained his composure quickly. "That's fine, that's more than fine... I'm still in your head." He grabbed his musky dick and started pumping. "Now listen, Justin: you're going to be a good little bitch, and you're gonna get your furry ass to the boat. You, and your friend. You're gonna act like nothing's wrong."

A meager voice in the back of Justin's mind attempted to regain control, but a louder burst of the white noise overrode everything. His free will was lost to the hypnotic program screeching in his ear. Safety, his and Terry's, went out the window.

"Yes." Justin said simply. "I'm gonna act like nothing's wrong." It was undoubtedly Justin's voice, but it was flattened, lacking any inflections or emotion. A deep, thoughtless monotone.

"You'll avoid any traps you can. And no more breaks--no more waiting. Get here as fast as possible."

"Yes." Justin responded. "As fast as possible."

"You're my puppet, bro!"

"I'm your puppet, bro."

Unlike the infected, it wasn't a brainwashing, so much as outright mind control. The earpiece wouldn't run out of battery for three months, even running nonstop, but Tenor wasn't going to be turning Justin into a dick-sucking pervert until they arrived.

But that didn't mean he couldn't have fun. "Good. Why don't you shove your hand down your pants and jerk off? Make sure you're nice and ready with that dick of yours so I can suck it when it's all nice and big. I want you and that boy here so we can have a big fucking party." Tenor said, more demented with every word.

Justin obeyed, dipping through the treasure trail on his belly, past the pubes, to grip his dick. The smell of masturbation wafted to his nose, and despite the trance, he thought it smelled fucking amazing. His groin, his cock, his balls, his taint--there was a word for the smell.

Musk. Why that came into his head, he couldn't know. The smell of musk, and the idea of musk, soaked into his skull deeper than any attempt by Tenor to use the word "dick." He sprang an erection immediately and jerked off, working himself over, for musk, for Tenor's orders.

The bathroom door opened. "Hand out of your pants!" Tenor said, and Justin obeyed.

"God damn, that was a long one." Terry sighed. "Are we ready to go?" Tenor ordered Justin to keep Terry in the dark. With those sunglasses obscuring his eyes, Terry couldn't see anything wrong--though if he'd been paying closer attention he might've noticed the line of drool running over the older bear's chin.

"We are ready to go." Justin answered dully. He turned and started in the direction Tenor commanded him. He didn't give Terry much warning, but that wasn't too surprising. Justin was never exactly patient, and he wasn't exactly talkative either, so he wasn't acting out of character.

The pair went on for a few hours in near-silence, at a fast pace. Too fast. When Terry stumbled and fell behind, Justin hardly seemed to notice. He paused only when he had to for Terry to catch up, before moving on once more.

"Hey, Justin? Did something happen when I was taking a piss?" The brown bear finally asked. They hadn't even stopped to scavenge for food for nearly four hours now, and his stomach was growling.

There were a few moments silence as Justin didn't answer, and when he did, it was terse. "Nothing happened. I just want to get us to the boat as soon as possible. We need to get off this island. I do not want to be here any longer than necessary."

The answer made sense, but the way that Justin delivered it seemed alien, scripted, and robotic. Terry couldn't have known that he was repeating whatever Tenor said, word-for-word.

Terry wasn't about to confront Justin over the way he was acting. He was probably just as tired from all the walking as he was--Justin was keeping a constant pace, though he was breathing rather heavily. Or he was pissed.

Terry winced when he thought. He'd nearly gotten them captured--he'd been easily, completely captivated by the musk, and Justin had to risk his life to save him. Then, afterwards, he had to carry Terry on his back for miles of walking, when he was already exhausted. From when they landed, to his dad, to the muskers, Justin had saved him. Every time.

To Terry, Justin's actions made sense. He'd thanked the older bear, but, they weren't--close. That was clear now. They were strangers, and he was a stupid kid, and Justin was constantly saving his ass.

Despite the time they'd spent together, Terry felt more distance between them than ever before. He didn't try to talk to Justin again, and Justin didn't try to talk to him.

As the day turned to night, Justin made a mistake. With the sunglasses and the darkness falling, the older bear didn't notice a huge cum web until it was too late. Terry noticed it just before the black bear ran right into it--Justin didn't say a word, or a noise, even though he was caught like a bug. From head-to-toe, right into it, all over him, sticking to his clothes and fur. Terry almost shouted, but the lack of reaction and not wanting to draw unwanted attention stopped that.

Justin didn't say anything as he dangled. "Terry," he said, "Reach into my pocket. There's a canister there."

"...O-okay," Terry said. Carefully, very carefully, he fished his paw into Justin's pants, and found a small metal bottle with a nozzle. "I got it."

"That's the cum dissolvent. Spray me with it."

He hesitated. There were a dozen questions on his mind--but he did what Justin asked, before whoever made the cum web came by. Terry shook the bottle and a mist of chemical-smelling fluid doused Justin, evaporating the cum nearly instantly. Justin's feet touched ground again, and he was coated in a mix of chemicals and cum.

"Come along, then." Justin said. "Watch out for those." He started marching in the same direction, his vision much less obscured.

"Stop!" Terry said. Justin didn't, for a few more paces, as if he was on a delay. He didn't turn back around. "You forgot your sunglasses." The black bear didn't respond. He stood, statuesque. "...Justin?"

Another delay. "Yes?"

"What the fuck is going on?" Terry took a step back. He knew something bad was happening.

Justin turned around to face him. His eyes were glassy and unseeing, as lifeless as any proper infected. There was no personality or life.

Before Terry could scream, the black bear was on top of him, smashing him into the dirt. Grabbing his arms in much stronger hands. "No--Justin!" Terry shook and kicked and cried, but Justin's expression and grip didn't falter. "Let go of me! Let go!"

"We're going to the boat." Justin said, pinning him under his body. He was straddling the younger bear, and now, his straining erection was obvious. Terry could feel every inch of him--he couldn't see, because he was crying too much. Terror, snot and tears covered his face, and he sobbed. He wanted to scream, but the thought of attracting infected still scared him to death.

Death was a good word. Justin moved from clutching his arms to wrapping both hands around his neck, squeezing mercilessly. Terry's resistance turned frantic. "You don't need to be conscious for the trip," Justin said.

His arms, now free, attacked Justin's face. Like an animal, he went into a panicked fight mode he wasn't aware he had, and his claws scratched at whatever they could reach. Terry couldn't see what he was doing, and he was being choked, and he found himself bloodying Justin's mouth and nose. Punching, scratching, clawing, at Justin's expressionless face. He could feel that same, wet boner pressing into his chest, even while he was being strangled.

Justin attempted to lean back, on Tenor's orders, but Terry managed to claw at the earpiece, ripping it off his head.

As soon as he did, the older bear gasped, and the spell was broken. He fell forward limply. The choking stopped, and Terry rolled over wheezing, coughing, and trying not to throw up. They were both covered in mud, and in Justin's case, chemicals and cum. Terry could feel his entire body heaving for air, and Justin was the same--Justin's entire body was shaking.

Justin tried to stand, but he lost all his energy. He laid face-first in the dirt, having something like a seizure. He wanted to be under control, again. He wanted to obey. He wanted the noise. He wanted to be thoughtless. They weren't his thoughts, but it was the sort of thing that hours of Tenor's program did to his brain.

He heard a distant voice shout his name. He was rolled over and found himself face-to-face with another bear.

"Sammy...?" He said, weakly, and fatigue overwhelmed him.

***

On the Boat:

The boat was filled with the infected now. They'd jumped on the chance as soon as the door was opened, and Tenor was busy getting pumped full of cock. His new anatomy allowed for his ass to be stuffed, but the amount of buttfucking was making his eyes bulge as he was slammed into the ground full of dick.

But he was of no consequence. The other Muskers were busy making plans, looking at the diagram on the computer of the bears' last known location. They'd gotten away for now, but the night was young. They needed to be added to the Muskers, and it would be a group effort to make sure of it.

First though, everyone wanted a turn with Tenor. They couldn't let their fellow Musker not have his dosage of dick, so they'd worry about the other two later.

***

On the Island:

Justin woke up with a pounding headache, staring up at a concrete ceiling. It was a dark room, but he could see despite it. There was another bear, across the small room, huddled next to the door. "Terry?"

"Welcome back." Relief flooded Justin's body to hear the young man was safe, and he laid back down on the floor. Then he remembered everything and would've sprang to his feet if he could've.

"Terry! Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry--"

"It's fine," Terry said. "You were fucked up. And I did a real number on your face."

They spent a bit going over what happened. Terry was soon scowling deeply. "We're fucked. We're so fucked, Justin. We don't have a way off this shitty island now!" Terry sounded ready to breakdown, but Justin managed to calm him down with a hand on his shoulder, still and reassuring.

"We'll find a way, Terry. Let's go towards the center of the island again... We need to find some sort of map. Maybe there's an airport we might be able to hijack," he explained.

Terry didn't say anything, and Justin took that silence as a sign of consent.

"Who's Sammy?" Terry asked.

"Mm." Justin looked away. "Sorry about that. I was out of it." He tried to leave it at that, but Terry asked him again, this time, much less patiently. Justin's bruised face turned red. "My nephew. He's been gone a long time."

"How'd it happen?"

Justin's face went dark, but Terry wouldn't back down.

"Few days after his birthday. Twenty-one--got him really hammered, ate cake, played video games. Last good memory I have. Infection was going on for about a year at that point, and we were just trying to stay together as a family." Justin's face fell into his hands. "When I woke up, it was too late. His dad got infected sometime the day before, and in the middle of the night..."

Justin left it at that. His nephew was woken up and turned, and he'd ballooned into a massive, bloated bear. Gobbling down cum, getting fucked by his daddy's dick, while his own dick leaked everywhere it touched.

"I ran away. Reported it to the authorities. Never saw Sammy, or my brother-in-law again. Never stepped foot in that house again. They're both somewhere on this island, I'm sure." Justin seemed sad about it, but his tone made it clear that he'd told this story hundreds of times.

Terry frowned. "Do I look like him, or something?"

"I don't know." Justin sighed. "I don't know why I called you that. I'm sorry."

The night passed quietly. They were both too tired to do anything, and now, they had nowhere important to be. The building that Terry had dragged Justin into was a toolshed, behind some bales of straw and forgotten trash. They could hear infected passing by, singing songs, and telling each other news of the new mayor of the island.

Terrance had gotten to work fast, making sure everyone knew he was the leader of the island, and the rest of the bears were happy to follow him. He apparently had an enormous dick, though the pair made sure not to listen to too much of what they said, lest they get infected.

They left sometime in the afternoon. Neither had eaten for a full day, so they had to scavenge when they got back in town. Everywhere they went, infected were talking about the new mayor. Every time Terry heard mention of his father he would grumble to himself, it was obvious that his father's changes weren't exactly pleasant for the young bear.

Justin didn't seem as hungry as Terry, but his mind did wander to the idea of father and son bumping cocks. He was wrapped up in his own concerns, and the strange thought dissipated. His fur and clothes were caked in cum and the dissolvent, and though he wanted to shower and change, he couldn't find anything to fit him, and most of the water lines in the city were down. So Justin stank like sweaty sex, and excessive... Musk.

Musk. Made him stroke himself, a bit. He smelled like a locker room jock. "You know," Justin found himself saying, "This island is probably one of the biggest man caves in the world."

Terry glanced at Justin and shrugged. "I guess, I dunno, didn't really cross my mind. I don't think that's really a good term for it--more like fucking nightmare," he grunted. Justin paused and nodded. He didn't know why "man cave" came to mind. That painted it more like a pleasant place than the fucking nightmare it was. Just like Terry said.

They wanted to find their way out of this place, though neither really knew how. Justin even managed to convince himself of his own lie. Maybe there was a helicopter or something, some way to get out of here--an escape so that they could live peacefully together.

The boat was reconsidered, but the cum dissolvent was done for, and there'd be bears waiting for them. When Justin said that he didn't know how to sail anyway, Terry sighed like he usually did.

An image flashed into Justin's mind, briefly, of him and Terry sharing a bed. The image fled so fast that he didn't think too much of it, or at least didn't think about it long, as they managed to find a tourism center.

It had a brochure of the island. It took them a bit of searching to find where exactly they were, but they managed to pinpoint it. Then, they found the airport. It was another day's hike, but that didn't bother of them too much--if they found an escape they would take it, be it today, tomorrow, or the day after. So, the walking started again.

They were both tense, as being on this island had trained them to be, but there was something different now. Justin was more open, and not brainfucked, and it was just the two of them. Neither had any plans to betray the other, and it was... Nice. They talked, and it was almost cheery. Foods they liked, places they'd been, the world before the infection, their lives afterwards, the friends they missed, and their taste in women. To Terry's surprise, Justin said he wasn't very interested in women.

Something was off.

Justin's comments on the sexual nature of their situation were getting frequent, and his once-grumpy face seemed always ready to smile. "Guess if we get caught, we can always... Fuck our way out?" He laughed. Terry gave the black bear an odd glance.

He wanted to be wrong about this, for once in his life. Their conversation was getting one-sided, and Justin didn't seem to be noticing anything wrong.

What Justin did notice were his pants were feeling snug. His cock just felt... Larger than usual. He had to grab his crotch every now and again, then constantly, to readjust. Normally it would be a red flag, as it never got in the way before--but for some reason that fact eluded him.

He didn't even notice how numb his cock had gotten. The feeling of him touching it elicited a jump of excitement, but he didn't really feel the touch itself--it was more like the act of touching his crotch was making his whole body feel good. Like a reward.

Justin's belly was also starting to press against his shirt. He was putting on weight, without eating anything--that was weird, he knew that, but--when he ran his hand over that belly, the worries left him. He smiled, imagining throwing some tasty food in his mouth.

Or maybe a fat dick. The bear blinked in shock, slowing down a bit as he rolled that thought around in his mind. Justin was struggling with the thought, he felt like that was an important thought, that it would lead to a big solution to a problem he was having at that moment.

"Hey, Terry..."

"Yeah?" He'd been surprised at how quiet Justin had been for the past thirty minutes, as he'd been talking the brown bear's ear off since this morning. "What's wrong?"

"I, um..." Suddenly the question was gone. Justin's face turned puzzled. What was the question? "Your dad," he said. Terry glanced at him. "Did you love him? I heard him go on and on about how important his family was, but... You didn't seem all that broken up about his change." It wasn't the question he was going to ask. He didn't know where it was coming from.

There was silence between the pair, with only the sound the rustling of grass under their feet as they walked. "I... Loved him. I mean, he's my dad." Terry paused. "He was my dad. He was never there for me or my mom, though. He was always working, more worried about his job, about his appearance."

They kept walking, with Terry glancing at Justin's back as he waited for some sort of response.

"Well... His appearance is... Good... Fuck, he does look like a real stud, I mean--wow, what a looker!" Justin's words carried a certain giddiness, like a gossip queen finding a choice rumor to talk about. "God, did you see that fucking d--" he stopped himself from saying it.

Terry stopped too, gawking up at the black bear who turned to look at him. Justin seemed just as shocked as Terry, even with the sunglasses. "Shit... Looks like I'm infected."

Now that Terry looked at him head-on, he could tell. The black bear's pants were bulging lewdly in the front with an obvious growth, and his new gut was starting to poke under his shirt. Not only that, but he looked taller as well, something he would've taken as the bear already being taller than him, but now the difference was too much. "When? I thought that you said the infection didn't work over the earpiece."

"I guess even their cum is infectious. We just don't see that often, as most everyone turns when they hear d--" Justin stopped himself, again before he finished the word. The word was... Tasty, poisonous, delicious. He wanted to say it, he wanted to say it to Terry, he wanted the young bear to hear the word from him... And no one else... "Shit," he breathed, shaking himself out of it.

They stood together in silence for a while. Terry looking at Justin, and the older bear looking right back. "I..." Terry said softly. He felt something in him. He wanted to reach out and tell Justin everything was going to be fine, but--Terry knew that wasn't the case. Justin was infected, and Terry wasn't. He hadn't touched the cum.

It was too cruel. "I'm going to go on alone. I can't be with you anymore."

Justin looked like he'd been punched. "Terry, I may be infected, but I'm still sane! Let me guide you to the airport. I don't want you getting attacked on your own." He could only think of his nephew, the one he'd let down, the one with the fantastically large dick, his sexy nephew.

"You're not sane, Justin, and you're turning faster and faster. You're growing. I can see it, you're getting fatter, and--your bulge." Justin's initial response to Terry pointing out the size of his bulge was a cocky grin, but he caught himself doing it. The color drained from his face. "I can't do this. I can't get infected. I have to get off this island."

Terry felt bad, but he knew he had to stay uninfected. At least, he wanted to stay uninfected, and he would push anyone down to stay that way. It was the unspoken agreement between them. Justin had been a means to an end from the beginning, as much as it hurt them both to consider.

For a moment Justin looked ready to fight this, but instead he merely nodded. "You're right, Terry." And suddenly, it was like talking to the old Justin again. The arousal in the air was momentarily evaporated. "Go. The airport is in that direction." He pointed past him, in the direction they'd been walking. "Keep going and you might find an airplane... Or something. And if you don't, try the beaches. There may be boats." The brown bear nodded, bid him a quick goodbye, and walked ahead. "And--don't scavenge just when you're hungry! Do things ahead of time!" Terry wanted to respond, but he continued his stride, past Justin. "Don't venture out at night, you won't be able to see the cum webs."

He didn't look back once, and Justin found himself starting at the younger bear's ass as he walked away... Pushing down the instincts that were now growing in him, unchecked.

***

At Night:

Terry was fast asleep when they came after him. He'd been deep asleep at first, but a single whiff of that strong scent told him that they were coming. Just a single whiff nearly sent Terry's mind into overdrive--it tasted so familiar.

So MUSKY.

For a moment he almost breathed it in again, ready to get lost in it--his cock instantly went hard. But he remembered to breathe through his mouth before that happened. "Shit," he swore quietly. The bear jumped to his feet, but it was already too late. He was surrounded. He'd decided to take a quick nap in a field just for an hour or so, but it had been enough time to allow the Muskers to surround him.

He kept his hands over his ears, and his face in his clothes. He couldn't protect both. He needed to fight, even knowing he'd lose. They were all around him, and he was going to be fucked into submission, if that scent didn't get him there first. They were all grinning, playing with their enormous dicks, rubbing their bodies coated in various greasy juices. Terry found himself pondering what the juices might be--cum, sweat, probably both, now that he thought about it. His stomach churned as he remembered how easily overwhelmed he was before, and how willing he had been to dive right into their musky embrace, and how that was about to happen again.

Part of him wanted it. He wanted to say it was a foreign part of him, but it was that same corner of his brain from before--the one that took over, when he got musk-minded. The same one ensuring he was achingly erect, after that cursory whiff.

All around him, the Muskers were chanting the special word. Terry avoided their lips--he didn't want to be infected, like his father--like Justin. Terry blinked away a bit of dampness from his eyes, swelling himself up as best he could.

He was going to be caught and turned into one of these stinky bears, but he needed to stay strong. All of them were looking at him with swirling, hypnotized eyes, huge balls being jerked in their massive hands, and all of them were monstrously huge. Every single one wore a backwards cap on their heads, and it became hard to tell them apart.

A few of them looked familiar, though. Terry saw a few of the people they'd been traveling with. He hadn't gotten to know them well enough, so he couldn't point them out easily. They were too caught up in their musky haze recognize him, either.

"Come on, you fuckers! Don't think that you'll catch me as easy as those other dumbasses! I've survived a lot longer than anybody else--my father's the mayor of this hellhole!" Mentioning the mayor seemed to make the bears pause. Terry didn't uncover his ears, but he could see they didn't take that lightly.

There was a roar, and a flash of black fur, and Terry felt himself being tackled, grabbed, and hoisted in the air.

He closed his eyes, and he could smell cum.

Cum, and--chemicals?

His eyes popped open. "Justin?!"

Everyone was so caught off-guard that the infected didn't really have a chance to spring after them. Justin threw Terry behind him, into the grass. "Terry, go! Now!" he yelled. Even as he attempted to protect the youth--he felt the overwhelming need to corrupt him. To see him with a big throbbing cock, to drip, and to be so, so gay. Every bone in his body wanted Terry to become part of this island, permanently... but Justin stood between him and the Muskers. "RUN!"

His words weren't heard, though. Terry took off as soon as he'd stood up. He sprinted towards the airport while Justin was faced with the Muskers, now joined by the two bears from earlier, and Tenor. Part of Justin felt sad that Terry hadn't said anything to him, hadn't even waited for some sort of explanation... Justin had followed him, to save the young bear, and there were no thanks... Maybe later, Terry could make up for it with his--

Justin shook his head roughly, and inwardly chided himself. Those weren't his thoughts. He was corrupted. Terry wouldn't bother to stick around, he was too smart for that.

Tenor's presence didn't surprise him, but it was shocking to see how fucking huge the polar bear became. He was being plowed by another bear, grinning with delight at Justin and apparently proud. "Looking sexy now, Justin! Wanna take a ride on my cock? Or sniff my armpits?! My bros got me nice and fucked up! Now I can hear, and I can hear the beautiful word... DICK, all I want!" The word made Justin wince, and his cock twitch. "Dicks! I love dicks! I'm musky, gay, and a dicksucker like the rest of my bros! You should join up with us, Justin--you're already so far along!" The polar bear rattled off quickly, surprisingly coherent despite the gasps he gave every now and again from the dick in his ass.

"You look magnificent, look at you..." A big grizzly said. "Why did you let that young one escape? You know we'll catch him soon enough." He was the leader, as far as Justin could tell. He was the ripest, the greasiest, and the biggest of them all. He was eying Justin up and down, openly sexual, but creepier than that... Justin was turned on by it.

Even as corrupted as he was now, the black bear had to fight the urge to stare at that dick. "Fuck you... I'll protect Terry, I'll make sure he doesn't get corrupted by fuckers like you!" Justin snarled. Despite saying so, he felt his will fading. He was giving in, whether he wanted to admit it or not...

He was becoming a Slimer. The black bear's cock was already starting to drip, and his straining-pants were soaked in the fluids. He could feel the cum pooling and sticking to his engorging ballsack. "It's too late for me, but... Not for Terry..."

The leader of the Muskers wasn't fooled. He approached Justin, scratching under his drool-caked chin. "Silly bear. You're fooling yourself..." Justin went weak in the knees, being this close to the stinking bear, and the attention. "You know you want dick. You want his dick, I'm sure. You want all of our dicks... Look at how amazing your own dick is, and not only that--" The giant grizzly stepped back, giving Justin a double overhead flex. "But you can become more than just some Slimer! You can become a Musker. You give into my musk... And give into my dick."

Justin nearly leaned one of those sweaty armpits right then. The leader was offering it, giving it to him... But he shook his head. He tried to fight, he was stronger than this... He had to hold them back and buy Terry time.

"Why did you follow us? Why did you turn Tenor?" He was on his last legs, he was almost one of them, and he didn't care all that much anymore. He wanted dick, he wanted to shove himself down on one of their enormous pricks, he wanted to gag on their cock, he wanted to drink cum like water...

"We can smell it on you. We can smell it on both of you." The leader stepped forward again, and this time, Justin wasn't so resistant. "You both are so much better than just plain Slimers... Imagine being a Musker, bro. Smelling strong, entrancing anyone without effort. You're prime to be a Musker, not a Slimer... Maybe the strongest Musker there is, bro... And it's not too late."

Justin felt his gaze, and mind, growing more distant.

Did he want to become another Slimer? He was a scientist, he was smarter than the rest--no, he didn't want to be like the thousands of other nobodies.

The Muskers were coordinated. They were manly, fucking MUSKY. He wanted to lick and slurp and snort those fucking sexy armpits, choke on their dicks, rim their sweaty holes, suffocate under those giant balls!

"We... Smell different?" he murmured. More of a vague mumble, than anything. It wasn't what Justin wanted to say. He wanted to keep the grizzly distracted if he could, keep all of them talking to him, but it was almost over.

There would be no more delays. The leader pulled him in for a big bear hug, forcing Justin's nose into his armpit. The black bear struggled, weakly, but it was no use. Holding his breath, breathing through his mouth, none of that worked--the leader's stink was so much stronger than any other Musker's, it was literally dripping with moisture. Justin's fur was coated, becoming permanently greasy from the mess of cum and sweat.

Justin started to snort the musk.

All around them, the rest of the gang was cheering, watching Justin's body start to swell with muscles where fat had once been, his dick growing even larger than it had. "DICKS! MUSK! FUCK! DICKS! MUSK! FUCK!" they chanted. Even being choked in that pit, Justin could hear the words--he wanted to cheer too--but he was too busy being engrossed in the odor.

He loved it. He loved every sweaty drop. He wanted to drink it! If he could he would stay there forever--another Musker--a bro!

His body lurched as the years seemed to molt off him. No longer an older bear, but younger, more like the other bros! He grunted as he came, again and again, staining the leader's leg with his own spunk. "Fuck yeah, bro! Layer on your cum, I want all your stink on me! Make me even MUSKIER, even sexier!" The leader shouted and jerked himself off, starting to cum himself--over Justin's body, showering him, staining the new Musker's body, starting off his collection of musk.

Justin lost.

He lost himself, his mind, and body.

He lost the will to help Terry.

He wanted Terry for himself. He wanted his young friend to be one of them, to be with him, and join him in the glorious collective odor the Muskers provided. All of Justin's thoughts and concerns about Terry morphed into an obsessive, lustful mood over him.

Justin yanked his head out of the hairy armpit with a loud slurping noise. His eyes darted in different directions, his clothes decimated and shredded around his feet, and an insane grin stretching his muzzle. He practically prostrated himself, demanding to be satisfied with what he wanted, what they ALL wanted. Musk, as much as he could get, as fast as he could get it?

The rest of the Muskers gathered around him, and he was forced on his knees. He was forced to kiss their feet, lick between their toes, to slather his tongue over their balls and suck their fat dicks, to rim their holes and run his tongue over their fuzzy asscracks, and every musky experience changed him for the better. Taller, buffer, muskier, just like every one of them. The MUSK overrode every thought, changed him just as it had done to all of them, a moan escaping his lips as he dug his face into every crevice he could.

His bros creamed over him, marking him, turning him into one of them. They were a select breed, and he was going to be the strongest one--Justin howled as he came again, feeling Tenor eating out his hairy ass while another bear sucked his cock, and yet another fucked his face, and more shoved their faces in his armpits, licked his feet, rubbed their sweaty bodies over him--and he came, hard, shooting a huge load that one might expect of a Slimer, over everyone involved. Justin's eyes grew distant from each other, becoming that eerie look that the infected all shared in common.

"Bros..." He moaned, like the enormous scent-slut he was. His free will was drained to nothing, replaced with utter devotion to the gang. A hat was slapped on Justin's head as he was made to stand up, towering over all the other bears.

"We've gotta catch Terry. I'm gonna fuck him silly."

***

Airport:

Terry didn't expect to find anything, he was sure he had hit the end of the road, he knew he would find nothing but an empty runway... so imagine his surprise when he found a helicopter. True, it was a very shittily made helicopter, but here it was, a real live helicopter. It didn't take him long to figure out that this had been made here, by the infected, it was held together in some places by their cum. He gaped at it, couldn't believe his eyes, the infected were planning on getting off of this island. Already all around him he saw more equipment, more machines in the process of being built out of spare parts on the island. The young man couldn't believe his luck though, his father's guards had taught him how to fly a helicopter a few years back, of course his father had discouraged this practice, but now he didn't give a shit as long as he could get off this damned island!

The bear was off running, prepping the helicopter, praying that it was built to actually fly. The machine was fueled up with... well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what the Slimers were using for gas, and thankfully they'd filled it to full before walking away. Terry was soon prepared to fly, he just prayed it would work, but of course things couldn't go the way he planned it. "Terry, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" The brown bear froze before turning to find his father standing there, along with all of his followers, all of them looking on with hungry expressions. Surprisingly though his father had an almost normal expression, his smile wasn't nearly as freakishly wide as theirs, and his eyes were... mostly focused on him.

"D... dad," Terry breathed. He couldn't believe he was standing right in front of his infected father, and somehow the older brown bear hadn't said the d word yet.

"I'm so glad to have found you, son. I wanted to change you myself, you see I realize that before we landed on this island we weren't that close. So I decided to change that and-" The bear was cut off by a shout, another familiar voice, specifically that of Justin. Everyone turned, including Terry, to see Justin approaching, a backwards cap on his head, followed by a group of the Muskers.

"He's mine, asshole! You treated your son like garbage, don't act like he's yours just because you gave the cum for him. He's more my son then yours, so I'll be turning him into a Musker, and you can go fuck off!" the black bear roared. He looked very intimidating now as a Musker, a wall of muscle and an enormous prick swinging between his legs. The bear was obviously ready for a fight, and apparently Terrance was willing to give it. Though he was a politician, apparently following his change he was far more willing to fight than before, so the groups didn't exchange many more words before they collided into an orgy of colliding fists, cocks, and a few rimjobs.

Terry was stunned by the sight, none of the infected were watching him, and none of them had even bothered to say dick yet... so he shrugged and got the helicopter ready. Everybody was too busy with their fight to stop him, nobody even realized anything was wrong until the rotors had started, but by that point Terrance and Justin were in the middle of some form of realization. They both loved Terry, and they found each other extremely attractive, the pair running hands over each other's faces as their muzzles came close. "Wow... you have a really big dick," Terrance purred.

"You gave birth to a really hot son, and you don't look too bad yourself either... wanna mate?" Justin asked. The pair collapsed into an orgy of their own soon after, everyone else watching on for a moment before they joined into a group orgy, Muskers and Slimers joining together in sex while Terry managed to lift off and fly away. Part of the young bear was disgusted, another part was confused, and the final part was relieved.

As he started high into the sky and started away from the island Terry gave one more glance at the group of writing bear bodies below and shuddered, he'd escaped... he'd actually escaped. There was a lurch in the young bear's chest as he realized that he'd lost his father... and a father figure, the bear biting his lip before he turned his attention forward. That wasn't the most important part though, Terry knew now that the infected were planning on leaving somehow, they were building their own ships running on their cum, and he had to get that information out. The bear started the helicopter towards the mainland, part of him was worried that he'd be shot down or brought back, but he hoped they'd listen, the infection wasn't going to stay on Slimy Bear Island for long...

***

Epilogue:

After a very weird day at work packing away the last of the bears, the lion guard, Henry, had been perfectly satisfied to push the memories of the day out of his mind. That was easy enough, what wasn't easy was getting "dick" out of his head, it was stupid, but since he heard that word it had been hovering in the back of his head. He'd joked about it at first, thinking it was just a stupid word... but now he was incredibly horny, he'd already cum fourteen times in the last hour, and he was working on his next orgasm. The lion knew something was wrong, he needed to get some help... but he would wait until he finished up with this next orgasm.

The door opened as his son came home from college, nineteen years old, a wrestler, and a very handsome cat, Tom came into the living room. Henry managed to cover himself up with a blanket, blushing slightly as his son smiled at him. "Hey dad, how's it going?" The young lion was currently wearing a wrestling singlet, having just come from wrestling practice, and Henry's eyes focused on the bulge between his legs, where his cup was... and he found his mouth watering. His eyes went a bit fuzzy as he felt something click in him, he wrapped his hand around his cock, not having noticed how much it had grown, or how much his own body had been putting on some extra weight.

Licking his lips Henry stared into his son's eyes, pulling the blanket off much to his son's shock, the young lion's eyes locked on his cock. "Wanna see my dick, son?"

To be continued?