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New Found Fishermen

By Von Krieger

Roger dozed in his lawn chair atop the positively ancient stone bridge spanning the creek. Over the years he'd encountered some rather weird things, but the events leading up to him dozing in the chair with a line in the water were just about the strangest. He wondered if he'd been sucked into some strange parallel universe, or if there were insectoid aliens invading and replacing key humans with pod people.

His wife had essentially demanded he go fishing.

He didn't mind the order. He just found it strange that Rose wanted him spending his week off while the factory was retooling its machines an hour away from home up in the woods, rather than doing some landscaping work around the house.

It'd all started when he'd brought home his catch the previous evening to cook for supper. He wasn't sure exactly what sort of fish it was; he'd never seen anything with such bright colors outside of a pet store. It was all nearly glowing greens and blues and purples. It hadn't been a tiny fish, either. It had been enough to provide a meal for Rose and himself, with a bit leftover they'd had for breakfast. It was an absolutely delicious fish, so delicious in fact that Rose had essentially outright demanded that he head out and get more. Roger had never seen a fish like that before and kind of doubted he'd find another one like that ever again. So he'd brought along the factory rookie, Russ.

Word 'round the company was that the kid was some bigwig's son, or cousin, or nephew, or something. He didn't have any training, was a bit awkward and clumsy, and seemed to be stuffed into a different post in the factory every other week. The kid kept to himself, quiet, a bit shy. He seemed to sense that just about everyone harbored some sort of animosity towards him, but he didn't have the slightest clue why.

Roger had taken him under his wing for the past month or so. While he was kind of clumsy and didn't have the first clue where to begin, he seemed to be getting better by leaps and bounds when he actually had somebody helping him. Dragging words out of the kid was quite an ordeal, but Roger had managed to open the floodgates when he'd talked about fishing a few weeks back. He'd brought Russ along, figuring it'd double his chances of catching the strange, elusive critter. The kid seemed almost positive that Roger was playing some kind of prank on him, since such a fish wasn't something he'd ever heard of.

Roger had to hand it to the kid, he knew his fish. Russ had babbled almost incessantly on the drive up about various techniques, lures, rods, reels, bait, and so on and so forth. The kid had put a pair of waders on and was somewhere downstream; figuring from Roger's description that the fish sounded like it was something that would prefer slower water. So Roger was content to doze in his chair. The woods were calming, relaxing, soothing. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out; it was kind of like that yoga stuff, bending into weird positions, contemplating your navel, and saying 'om' all the time.

On a deep breath in Roger caught an odd scent on the air. It was a pleasant scent, kind of like cologne or something. He'd noticed it here the previous day, and at first he'd thought it some sort of flower in bloom or something. But when Rose had been cooking the fish last night, the whole house had filled up with that strange smell. But it was stronger now, a whole lot stronger. The scent seemed to slither into his nose and mouth, creep down into his belly, and then take up residence in his groin. He'd noticed this his libido had taken quite the jump the previous evening, as both he and Rose had been in the 'mood for love' at the same time, a decided rarity, which was also helped to motivate him to come out and catch a few more of those delicious fish.

Roger ignored his growing erection, trying to concentrate about other things, but suffused with the strange, arousing scent he found himself almost painfully hard. The more he tried to ignore his hard on, the more the ache seemed to spread, until it felt like every single muscle on his body had begun to burn, as if he'd been using them to do something strenuous for an hour or two. He grit his teeth and tried to wait for the world's worst case of blue balls to pass, but it didn't. Roger's clothes began to feel tighter, unpleasant on his skin. His jeans felt especially constricting. He groaned, and unable to stand it any longer, unzipped, yanking his throbbing manhood out into freedom.

Roger nearly gasped at the sight of the organ, it was... bigger than he remembered. At least four of five inches longer, and perhaps gaining another one or two in thickness. But most worryingly was the color of it; as Roger watched, the skin of his cock began to rapidly darken until the whole of his length had taken on a deep black coloration. He couldn't help but give his cock a squeeze, to make sure it wasn't hurting or gone numb or anything. Thankfully he didn't feel any sort of discomfort; in fact his touch felt good. Damn good. It made his aches and pains stop for a moment. Roger looked around, listening for the telltale signs of Russ coming through the brush, or slogging up the river or something. But he had heard nothing; he hadn't seen the kid since he'd headed off in search of slow moving water.

He pondered heading to the small cabin nearby, but with the way his body protested the moment he took his hand off of his cock, Roger didn't think he'd be able to make it. So he merely stood and turned his chair around, facing the middle of the bridge rather than the outside, so if Russ came back, he wouldn't be able to see Roger pleasuring himself.

He slumped back into his chair and began to stroke his enlarged shaft, a groan of relief escaping his lips. He looked down at his member both frightened and fascinated, as he watched it continued to grow, and not merely grow but change. The skin drew tight all over his shaft, and the head began to change shape. It seemed to almost invert itself as Roger watched, a sort of bowl shape forming around the slit. He winced as his clothes began to feel tighter still, especially in the groin. But Roger couldn't take his hand off his cock, he couldn't stop jacking off, even though the full body cramps were just too uncomfortable to tolerate. But his cock wasn't the only thing growing. He knew the tightness was being caused by his swelling balls, which were keeping up in scale to his enlarging member.

But Roger himself also seemed to be growing. He didn't have the slightest clue of what was going on, or how it was possible. He watched as his belly and chest started to swell up, drawing his buttoned shirt tight against his expanding flesh. Roger's clothes were making it difficult to breath, and he clawed at them with his free hand, only to find that he was literally clawing. Buttons popped and fabric tore beneath Roger's elongated, black nails. He stared with horror as they continued to grow, even as his fingers began to shorten. He tore at his pants, letting out a sigh of relief as his grapefruit sized balls were freed from confinement.

Now that his clothes weren't so tight anymore things felt much better. So very, very much better. Mmm... he actually found himself beginning to enjoy his change. Especially as dark, leathery pads began to form on his palms, making the sensation of stroking his still-growing cock all the more pleasurable.

Roger began to pant, his tongue lolling from his mouth, longer than it ought to have been. He arched his back, sending a stream of precum launching all the way across the bridge, splattering noisily against the stones and water. Shit, if that was just a spurt of lubrication, how many buckets was he going to gush when it came time for the main event?

A half-moan half-growl rumbled from Roger's throat as bones began to pop and shift. He felt his feet constrained by his workboots for a moment, only to have his new claws tear easily through the toes, his transforming flesh widening the rips. He could feel his ears tingling, changing, but his attention was focused on two points of building pressure, one within his cock, and the other circling his jaw.

Roger threw back his head and roared with climax, his face pressing out into a muzzle as thick black fur sprouted to cover virtually every inch of his body; just as thick, white seed spurted forth from his cock to just about cover every inch of the small bridge.

The brand new bear-man looked over the mess he made and whistled appreciatively. "Man, where the hell did it all come from?" his cock and balls were absolutely huge, but there was no way that they could contain what looked like gallons of cum.

The same scent that had driven him to intense arousal filled the air, and while it seemed to be keeping him hard and horny, it wasn't doing anything uncomfortable like it was before. Roger looked over himself and his torn and tattered clothes. He'd gained maybe a good foot, maybe a foot and a half of height. He hadn't a clue how much heavier he was, since his build seemed to have shifted. He was heavier, not terribly fat, just thick, but he also felt a heck of a lot stronger.

He could scarcely believe what happened to him. Had he fallen asleep or fallen back in his chair and bumped his head or something?

Ow. Pinching with claws hurt like heck, so he definitely wasn't asleep. Aside from the weirdness of suddenly turning half-bear with a huge cock that felt absolutely great to stroke, Roger was actually feeling pretty good. Better than he had in years.

He clawed off his ruined boots and kicked them aside, taking a few clumsy steps before he got the hang of how his altered body worked. He headed off in the direction of the cabin, he wanted to get a better idea of what he looked like, and there was a mirror there.

-o-

"Roger, hey, Roger!" Russ called, coming up the hill with a string of the odd fish he'd been sent out to collect. The string was the last set he'd caught, he'd taken a good dozen or so specimens back to the truck and tossed them into the livewell in the back of the bed, and that was about as many as he felt comfortable sticking in there.

Oddly the older gentleman was nowhere to be found. His chair and rod were where Russ had expected atop the bridge, which was absolutely covered in a thick white slime that seemed to smell strongly of the same contaminant that filled the stream, and had affected the fish. Maybe he'd gone back to the cabin to use the bathroom? Russ shrugged and began to head that way, when he began to slip. The sole of his waders oddly couldn't get much grip on the slime-slicked stone of the bridge, and Russ went sprawling, landing face first into the stuff.

He wasn't hurt, thankfully, but he got a nose and mouthful of the stuff. It was warm, almost... hot. And aside from the strong scent, it had a familiar feel and taste to it. Somehow the entire bridge had been coated in semen.

Russ felt a surge of heat shoot through him, heading right for his groin. There was a pressure building in his body, powerful and intense, and it felt like he was going to explode. He barely managed to roll over before he felt himself growing rock hard. He moaned as he felt blood surge to his cock, and continue surging. It felt like his cock just keep getting bigger and bigger, harder and harder, even through he knew for a fact that he was already fully erect. He tried to push himself up, but all he managed was to smear the cum covering the ground around with his hands. He seemed to soak it up like a sponge, and the more he came into contact with, the more his cock surged. It felt tight, cramped, restrained, constructed, and Russ didn't have the first clue of what to do.

Fortunately his growing cock decided for him, a sudden massive surge in length tore through his pants and his fishing waders. The young man stared at what had to be two feet worth of thick, black, glistening erection. It made his mouth water, and there was more than enough of it to allow him to bend down and take it between his lips.

Russ began to caress his cantaloupe-sized balls with a clawed hand, utterly lost in the pleasure of the act, not noticing the changes to his body. He barely noticed as a pair of powerful, clawed hands rolled him over, slicing the backside of his waders and just about everything underneath. Something hot, hard, and heavy was pushed into his ass. He cried out in protest at the act, but the momentary pain vanished almost instantly, replaced with delicious pleasure.

"Don't be tellin' no one about this, you hear?" Roger growled softly. "I ain't into this sort of thing, but with you sittin' here sucking yourself off, well... it's just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. And I'm just so hard and I... I couldn't resist."

Russ's self-pleasures were forgotten as a pair of huge hand-paws began to stroke his cock. His eyes widened at the sight of black-furred paws, and he looked over his shoulder, awed, terrified, and really, REALLY turned on by the humanoid bear behind him ramming a huge cock into his ass.

"If what's happening to you is happening to me, I don't blame you. My whole body feels like it's going to explode unless I cum," Russ moaned.

"If it's the same thing, kid, then it pretty much is going to explode when ya cum. But in a good way. Bit messy, though," Roger said with a chuckle. He began to rub pawfuls of Russ' precum over the changing human's bare skin, which rapidly began to grow fur, as well as have the muscles underneath begin to grow and swell, altering the willowy twentysomething's form into a more powerful, ursine form.

Russ quickly found that Roger was right, the explosion combining transformation and climax felt so good. The sun had started to set when the two well-endowed bears managed to get their libidos under control and uncouple from one another. A meal of the delicious fish Russ had caught had aroused them both, and spurred another round of fucking that had lasted until full on evening.

-o-

"Well, we can't really go back to civilization," Russ said, snuggled up to Roger beneath a tree.

"Not unless you wanna have a long career ahead of you as Bigfoot."

"I don't think our situation is unique though. There's some sort of substance in the river, very faint, kind of glowy, but it's gathered in the fish. The fish are mutated somehow into having bright colors, making them easier to see and presumably to eat, which appears to have further mutagenic properties on the predator..." Russ continued.

"SHIT!" Roger snarled, interrupting his lover's musings. "Rose! We had one of those fish for dinner last night!"

Russ hopped to his feet. "Then there's a pretty good chance she's got the same... condition."

Thankfully their transformation had gifted the two with night vision clear enough to make it back to the truck. The cab was cramped with the pair in it, and it was a bit uncomfortable to drive, even with the seat all the way back. But the biggest problem the two had as they slowly took the backroads was that in the enclosed environment each could smell the most minor of the other's arousal. Roger and Russ took turns driving, one of them behind the wheel, and the other with his muzzle in the driver's lap. The normally one hour drive took closer to two, and midnight had come and gone by the time the two reached the small rambler Roger and Rose shared.

The elder, bigger bear took the front door off its hinges in his haste. "Rose!" he called "Rose, are you alright?" Two steps in, the smell hit him. The scent of that strange transformation aphrodisiac that seemed to be tied to just about everything.

There was an answering growl from the bedroom, with a familiar voice answering, though Rose's tone was different more... masculine. The massive she-bear ducked her head beneath the door frame, fixing her husband with a glare as she stroked her cock with one massive handpaw. She towered head and shoulders over her husband, or was it his husband?

Roger gawked at the sight of the powerful creature his wife had become; there was scarcely the slightest sign of femininity, maybe a bit of a curve to the hips, but Rose's breasts had vanished as she'd bulked up into the sexy, powerful specimen of ursoid-humanity that stood before him. Rose was just as much a man as the two smaller bears, even more so if you took measure based on dick size.

'She' grinned. "Been thinkin' about you and your nice tight ass all day, Roger. You and that new boy from the factory get in the bedroom right this instant. I've had to make due with my hand all day, and now you went and got me all hard again just by bein' here. Now get!" she snarled, pointing with a heavily clawed finger.

"Y-yes ma'am," Roger and Russ stammered, both knowing full well who was going to be wearing the pants in this relationship.