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Hung Like a Bear

For PyrexKoala

Written by Rix Solstice

SM Labs. An independent research and development firm that for years has operated largely in secret. New employees are vetted to a level beyond any governmental scrutiny, and it's not hard to see why. Through various means, they harvest and collect hormones for medical research and profit.

Test subjects and donors come to them in all sorts of ways. Some come willingly, lured by promises of fantasies fulfilled that they'd never dreamed possible. Others are kidnapped, with clandestine testing having shown they would be ideal acquisitions. It's not uncommon, even, for employees to find themselves suddenly lured to becoming subject to the same tests and collection procedures they put other donors through.

One of their most profitable ventures are a set of popular, potent, and most importantly, expensive aphrodisiacs How they produce them is something that many have tried to find out, but none but the employees and donors at SM Labs really know the truth. These are stories of how some people join the ranks of the donors.

It all started with curiosity taken a little too far. That and a _seemingly_careless coworker at SM Labs, who had very deliberately been hogging the new PlexEye augmented reality glasses he'd been working with.

Martin stared at those glasses, carelessly left on the cafeteria table by his coworker Randall. This late at night, they were the only ones on duty in this particular wing of the labs. For almost an hour, Randall had been gesturing expansively with his hands, murmuring quiet commands that the glasses would then project onto the inside of the PlexEye glasses. Martin had been asking Randall for weeks to get a crack at them, just try the damn things, but the coworker always muttered things like 'NDA' and 'I could get in trouble'.

Martin snorted derisively. As if what they were doing at SM Labs was even legal. But the corporation that owned the lab was powerful enough that the government turned a blind eye turned to the whole compound. Employees were rigorously vetted, and agreed to invasive random intrusions into their lives. The clandestine nature of the experiments and procedures done at the labs made it necessary. Martin didn't think about it too much; they paid well, and he got to see and do things he'd never dreamed possible. And for some stupid reason, Randall was pulling that 'NDA' shit with him, when the worst that could happen if he broke THAT one was that he'd have to return them. Compared to SM Labs' policy on people attempting to break their NDAs, that was nothing.

Looking toward the door, the diminutive man reached out and grabbed the glasses. "Fuck it. Randall comes back, I'll laugh. Fuck him and his NDA." Settling them on his head, he rested them on the bridge of his nose and fit the little earbuds into his ears. "How the hell do you turn this on?" He grumbled, and searched for a button on the glasses.

All of a sudden, the glasses turned on, assailing him with a psychedelic splash of moving colours. He expected some sort of music, but all that came through the earbuds was white noise. In a panic, Martin wondered if he'd broken them somehow. Randall was going to _kill_him if he had! Lifting his hands up to tear them off, he stopped them halfway. The colours. They... they were making shapes. Things he could almost make out. Maybe this was just a splash screen? Something in his mind told him he should just wait and see.

Martin watched, utterly transfixed, as the shapes and patterns kept moving. Every time he was sure he'd caught an actual picture, it would bleed away. Sometimes he'd see words form, and whenever that happened, the white noise from the earbuds would change subtly. Within moments his mouth hung open, and he was only dimly aware of Randall coming to sit in front of him, a smile on his face.

"Hey buddy," Randall said softly, his green eyes focusing on Martin's slightly glazed brown eyes. "I see you put on _my_PlexEyes. Now why would you do something like that?" When Martin just shivered and didn't answer, Randall chuckled, "I think it would be good to answer the question, don't you?"

Martin could see Randall through those glasses. Really, he could see the whole room, just that every surface was an undulating kaleidoscope ofcolour and oblong shapes. The words, so softly spoken, seemed so reasonable. The suggestion that he answer, it really was a good one, wasn't it? His voice barely a whisper, Martin murmured, "Because you're always being a dick and hogging them."

"Well now, never thought I'd leave them out on purpose, did you, Marty? What are you seeing? Describe it. In detail. Focus on what you're seeing, Marty. Examine everything. I'm not even mad, isn't that great?"

Martin let out a little whimper as he found himself doing so. Something in the back of his mind was telling him not to, that something was very wrong here, but... such a reasonably posed suggestion couldn't be ignored, could it? "Yeah, great," Martin slurred. He tried hard to focus on those colours, and soon the display on the glasses grew opaque, so that he couldn't see anything else at all. Oh, sure, there were spots where the display ended, but largely, there was just those maddeningly interesting shapes and colours.

"I want you to relax, Martin. Do you know what I'm doing to you?" Randall asked, sliding into the seat next to him and stroking a hand down Martin's back. "When I first tried to touch you, buddy, you got hostile. I was _sure_you were gay, like me. Then I heard your history. Kinda sad, really. So... I thought... 'how can I get him to see?'. Tell me honestly, does it feel bad that I'm touching you like this?"

Martin wanted to say that yes, it felt bad. The conscious part of his brain was screaming at him to say that Randall touching him was wrong. But he couldn't do it. Something was making him just say silent. "What are you doing..." Martin said, so quietly that Randall could only barely hear it.

"You're going to remain calm, Marty. Calm and serene, aren't you?" When Martin nodded, Randall continued, "Some of our donors here... they like this sort of thing. Having their minds taken. Being left in a haze. They want to let the truest parts of themselves out. But they're too afraid to let it happen. So we offer them a way. To let themselves be what they want to be without shame or fear."

Martin shuddered and reached up to try and pry away the glasses, but he couldn't bring himself to. Randall, still stroking his hand down Martin's back, grinned and said, "See, try as we might, we can't force someone to do things against their will. If I told you to kill someone, you'd fight it. Or cut off your finger."

"I..." Martin said, and found himself unable to focus enough to finish the thought.

"I'm giving you that chance. See, Martin, I've seen it. Our new donors. When it was just equine collection, you could hide it. But I know what you like, Marty. Big, hefty, powerful bears. All covered in fur. Nice long cocks. Grunting and growling and sometimes roaring when they cum, giving another 'donation' to SM Labs. Which we're processing into a new product 'Ursa's Touch'."

Martin's eyes widened. He started to protest, but the distracting pattern of lights, that white noise in his ear, they both were drawing him deeper in. Again, he tried to lift his hands to pull off the glasses. He felt Randall nip at his ear, biting just a little and tugging. "This skinny little thing here wants it more than anything. Wants to be a donor."

"But I... can't..." Martin whined softly. "I can't. I'm not into guys. I'm not..." Martin trailed off, fighting against the suggestions that were worming their way into his mind. He'd been so good about hiding it, hiding his desires, that he'd started to believe his own protests. With the PlexEye working on his subconscious and worming its ways into his thoughts, however, those protests were fading.

Randall almost purred into Martin's ear, his voice adopting a hypnotic cadence. "Maybe not. I know you are though. Just let it happen. Give into it, let it take you. That's the trick, Martin. Count the shapes, the colours, everything you see. Let it in, and you can just become a donor for us. Nice, big, fat bear. It's your choice. Fight it long enough and you could break free. But ask yourself if you really want to."

Martin licked his dry lips. Why shouldn't he? Other staff had crossed the line before. He'd always sworn he'd never do it. The donors, when out of their rooms, tended to indulge in sexual escapades with each other whenever possible. It was true, though... when he'd seen the new donors, the few bears that SM Labs had been experimenting on, he'd been tempted. Some little part of him.

"Do it, Martin," Randall murmured, and then nipped Martin's ear again. "Just one moment. One second of submission. Of acceptance. And you'll be ours. Your mind will be molded into a perfect donor. And my personal plaything."

With only Randall there in the cafeteria, Martin knew that he had a choice. Tear off the glasses and go to report Randall, or give in. Open his mind to this, and join the ranks of the donors. A big, burly bear. Martin had always been small and slight. He'd fought hard against feelings of desire for larger, more aggressive men. He'd wanted desperately to be normal. Now, he realized, he didn't want to be.

"Oh god," Martin breathed, and focused entirely on the sights and sounds, opening his mind. And in that one moment, he was lost. He'd allowed the program to take hold of his mind, and from that point forward, it would make him into the most willing of donors to SM Labs.

Randall grinned and began to unbutton Martin's shirt. "I knew you'd do it. You tried so hard to hide what you wanted, but... given the chance, you're taking it. Now, Martin, you're going to take off all your clothes right here. We're going to walk you to one of the collection chambers. Won't that be nice."

Martin moaned. Words were whispering in his mind, telling him he should do it. He should obey. It would feel good to obey. He was at once both consciously aware that what he was hearing wasn't his own inner monologue, and oblivious to the instructions that were being seeded deep in his thoughts. Slowly, he stood, and shrugged out of his shirt. His hands moving of their own volition, he began to unbuckle his belt. Soon after came his button and fly, and soon he was standing there in his briefs, the tented fabric straining with the fresh erection that had taken hold the moment he had given in.

Chuckling, Randall gripped Martin's cock through the thin fabric of the powder-blue briefs. "Oooh, someone's excited. Well, we better save that for the transition. Wouldn't want to waste any of that wonderful cum. Come on now," Randall murmured, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and arousal. "The briefs, too."

Martin shuddered; a little bit of his inhibitions remained, and they were holding him back from revealing himself fully. "I don't know if I can," Martin said, and immediately felt a flash of displeasure in his mind. He wasn't doing what he was being told to do, and already the conditioning was taking hold to tell him that was a bad thing.

"Of course you can, Marty. You can't be converted to a donor if you're wearing clothes, silly. Now do what you're told and take that underwear off. You won't need it anymore."

This time, before he was even consciously aware of it, Martin was pulling his briefs down, letting them fall to pool at his feet. Soon he was stepping out of his shoes and bending over to take off his socks. Soon, the diminutive man was standing naked and proudly erect in the middle of the cafeteria. Randall touched something on the PlexEye and the colours became transparent again, though he still heard that white noise in his ear. "Alright dear, come with me..." Randall said, and took Martin by the hand.

As he was led down the corridors, ones that he knew well, Martin saw familiar faces, all of them looking shocked. Many of them seemed amused, as well, and Martin knew it was because they thought he was getting his just desserts. He didn't care though, because all the while, Randall was murmuring little bits of encouragement, telling him how it didn't matter what people thought.

After about ten minutes of walking, Martin was led into a small room with a number of machines. One of them was a long, thick tube with a ribbed interior connected to a long hose. Another looked a little bit like a cock, this one connected to the wall with a wire. Martin had seen it all before, but now he was going to be attached to all those machines, 'donating' his semen to the SM Labs for one of their numerous products.

Randall led Martin to the machines and turned him around to face away. "I think, maybe, under all that, I'll let you watch," Randall said, still grinning. He connected a wire to a socket on the glasses, and soon Martin was seeing the view from one of the cameras, though everything was still in splashes of psychedelic colours.

First came Martin's wrists, fastened in strangely loose straps to the top of the machine alcove. "That's right, it feels good to not fight, doesn't it Marty. My dear boy Marty. Everyone will be so proud," Randall cooed as he fitted stirrups under Martin's thighs, and then soon he was being hauled up off the ground. A padded seat was lifted to just under Martin's rump, with a hole in the middle.

As he fastened a few straps across Martin's chest, Randall patted the cheek of SM Labs' newest acquisition. "Soon you won't care. All you're gonna feel is pleasure. But first... first it'll hurt a bit. You'll have to be here a week or so, fed some pretty heavy nutrients. You'll expend a lot of energy on this."

Martin whimpered and started to struggle. His conscious denial, his fear at what was going to happen, started to take hold despite the subliminal messages. Despite his fear and his apprehension, his cock remained stiff, the tip forming a bead of pre on the end. When Randall lifted up a syringe and placed the tip at the base of his cock, Martin winced. He couldn't stop this; he didn't _want_to stop this, but watching it happen was a strange form of torture.

A sudden pinch of pain at the base of his shaft, and soon Randall was depressing the plunger on the large syringe. At first, there was more pain, but then there was cold, cold that spread from his loins and started to move all through his body. It was done; once the formula was injected, the process wouldn't be stopped. "There you go, Marty," Randall said softly, "Now just watch."

All of a sudden, the lights intensified and the white noise started to grow stronger. Every once in a while, a word or an image would flash clearly onto the PlexEye and be gone in an instant. For every one that Martin could process, there was a dozen more that he couldn't identify.

Soon, Martin started to feel an itch to replace the coldness, and the itch went bone-deep, and even further than that, if possible. The first visual change he was aware of was a darkening of his skin, though it wasn't easy to see with the colours and occasional flash of a clear image on the glasses. "Oh wow," Martin whispered. "L-let me see it. N-no colours. Just... clear... please..."

Randall considered it for a moment. "Too late to go back. You know you belong to SM Labs?"

When Martin spoke, he knew it wasn't the conditioning speaking. He was past the point of no return, and there was nothing to do but embrace the change. "Please," he repeated, and Randall nodded. Soon he could see in full detail the changes that had begun to take place, without the accompanying colours.

Already Martin's belly and chest had started to broaden, and the hair on his chest, formerly blonde, had turned a deep brown and started to thicken and uncurl. It was like watching a time-lapse video of hair growing, but Martin knew it was happening real-time. The itching was_maddening_ at this point, and everywhere he was itching had fur growing.

Martin could feel his legs growing bulkier, muscle mass bulking up, with a generous layer of fat covering it. It was then he knew why everything had been so loose on him; Randall had made sure nothing would be too tight for when the transformation was complete.

With a strange bemusement, Martin watched as his flesh began to _ripple_all over, and with each pulse a little bit more bulk was added. He realized that not only was he getting bulkier, he was getting taller. He felt the itching now all over, with only his head and, bizarrely, his cock and balls left without that sensation.

It wasn't long before Martin started to feel tired, more exhausted than he'd ever felt before. There was a deep pit in his stomach, one that he recognized as hunger, but more insistent and gnawing. Each ripple of flesh brought a deeper hunger and more tiredness. This wasn't like the equine changes he'd seen; the ursine transformation was significantly more drastic. Martin saw that he'd gained at least a foot and a half in height, growing into the restraints almost perfectly.

And then it came; the itching had started to spread to his head and his sex. He could feel something growing inside_his cock, and around it too. The view on the PlexEye didn't show much, but he could see that he was developing a sheath, and his balls were growing in size. That somehow concerned him less than the fact that the glasses were becoming dislodged as his jaw extended and grew, and his nose became a broad snout. He could feel his teeth almost _creak as they elongated and curved, giving him a mouthful of sharp teeth. His fingernails had turned into claws, as had his feet.

Soon, the itching was slowing down, leaving only the gnawing, desperate hunger. A hunger that was only rivaled by his arousal. He knew what was coming next; he wanted it more than anything. "There you go," Randall cooed in his ear. Martin watched as the tall man stroked his fingers through the thick pelt of blackish brown fur that now covered Martin from head to toe.

"I think we should give you something to eat first. Bet you're hungry." Randall said, lifting a muzzle connected to a long hose that led to the ceiling up to Martin's mouth. There was a nozzle on the inside of the muzzle, one that was shaped like the head of an ursine cock. As Randall fitted the muzzle on and strapped the buckles in, he again changed the images on the PlexEye, reverting it fully to the opaque screen.

"Marty, dear, when you're done in a few days, you'll be a perfect toy. You'll love living on the campus. And serving me and anyone else that wants you," Randall whispered. He fastened a set of headphones over Marty's ears, and there was that white noise, even stronger than it was on the PlexEye's tinny speakers.

Marty whimpered; this was going farther than he'd expected. Randall planned on conditioning him even further. Truth was, at this point, Marty didn't really care. It was then that he realized he was thinking of himself as 'Marty', a nickname he'd always hated.

"Suck, Marty. Nutrient-rich, dear. It'll be all you need for the next few days," Randall suggested, and soon Marty was suckling on the nozzle. The stuff that came out was thick and sweet. Swallowing as fast as he could suck, he felt warmth spreading all over his body within moments. Alongside the nutritious ingredients, there were aphrodisiacs and hormones that would deepen Marty's already maddening arousal and make his body produce much more seed than he normally would be able to make.

Marty felt Randall take his large, ursine shaft in hand and hold it still. Soon a latex sleeve was being slipped over it, with nubs all on the inside. A latex strap was fitted under his now much-larger ball sack, and soon the sleeve was secure. Martin could see in his mind just what was about to happen; he'd done this to more than a few new donors.

All of a sudden the warm, wet interior of the sleeve started to undulate, milking his cock. It felt wonderful, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was tight, slick and wet, and Marty knew full well that he'd not last long. The next step of his captivity, though, would push him over the edge. He roared around the nozzle in his mouth, continuing to suck

"That's right, Marty. Feels good, doesn't it?" Randall's voice cut through the headphones as clearly as if they weren't even there. Some part of Marty's addled mind realized that he was hearing Randall speaking through them, rather than in spite of them. "Nod your head if you want the next part, Marty, my big bear bitch."

Marty nodded emphatically, and sucked more of the sweet fluid from the nozzle. He tried to rock his hips against the motions of the sleeve over his cock, but found himself unable to move more than an inch or two. He strained against his bonds unconsciously, wanting nothing more than to have his release. Something in his mind was telling him to be a good boy, to listen to his handlers, to be a proper donor. He knew it was the whispers of the conditioning in his mind, and he_wanted_ to please Randall.

"This won't take too long," Randall said with no small measure of amusement. Something cold, hard and wet was pressed up under his stubby little tail. His tail! Marty marveled at that, he had a_tail._ There was a moment of discomfort as he felt his anus stretched around the thick silicone tool. A bit of adjustment, back and forth, and all of a sudden Marty roared around the nozzle, a throaty sound that he'd heard so many times before, but never coming from him. He shuddered and felt his cock flex, and soon streamers of his seed were being deposited in the sleeve to be sucked and collected into the machine.

Marty felt a flush of pride and happiness at that first donation, something that went beyond the ecstatic pleasure of his first climax as one of SM Labs' newest donors. If he could think straight, he'd realize that something in the lights and sounds he was being deluged with had_told_ him to feel that way when he came.

Randall chuckled, rubbing his hands all over Marty's broad belly, giving it a few playful slaps. "Gotta love all this. Kind of envy you, Marty. Big, strong bear. And not in the gay sense. A literal bear, bulk and all."

Marty moaned, shuddering as the machine continued to milk him. It wasn't letting up at all, and the climax had made his shaft oversensitive. He could feel tears welling up as he jerked and bucked, trying to get away from the milking sensation. "Calm down, pet," Randall said softly. "Calm down and let go. Be a good boy."

Despite himself, Marty felt himself relaxing. When Randall's voice came again, there was a note of hardness in it, a bit of vindication for all the days he'd had to deal with Marty's sullen and sarcastic attitude. "You won't hear or see anything but the program for a few days. But I'll let you see something... something to show you so you know what you really are."

All of a sudden, a picture showed up on the screen. On it, Marty saw a bear with brown and black fur, straps holding him in place, legs spread and lifted. A pair of PlexEye glasses were over his eyes, and a muzzle attached to a hose was strapped on his head. His ursine cock was pushed out of its sheath and covered with a slightly undulating latex sleeve with another hose attached to it. His broad belly was pushing the sleeve down so the tip was horizontal. His heavy sack obscured the last part, the thick silicone prostate stimulator that was pushed into him and massaging him on the inside.

As the image faded and was once again replaced by the shapes and colours, Randall's voice cut into the white noise one last time. "That's you, Marty. All you. Big, bulky, helpless new donor. Mine."

Marty came again. And again. And again, his mind gone in haze of pleasure, pride and joy.