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City of Bears: Series One - Bear Boutique

Chapter 3

As he drove down the highway a good twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, Kyle took another look at the necklace he'd palmed from that weird store at the mall and laughed. The fact that he was always compelled to steal things had always bothered him when he was younger. Back in high school and college, he'd tried to give it up a hundred times, but now he just accepted it, rolled with it, enjoyed the rush that came with it. It was the same joy he got from landing a deal on a million dollar listing up in the hills, or when he scored big at the casino. No, that was a lie--the casino was a much bigger thrill. Bigger than all the others combined, and that's where he was headed now. Sure, he might lose big. Hell, he usually lost big. In fact, he was on a damn losing streak at the moment, but that could change any moment. He could win big. He would rob the bank, any day now. He

The bear claw necklace he'd taken wasn't anything special, really. Hell, he had hundreds of necklaces which were worth more than the simple silver necklace, but this one had spoken to him. It had told him to steal it. It wanted to be his, just like everything he took. They were usually small things--he'd never stolen anything big, but they were always special to him. This one would be his good luck charm. With this, he could have anything, take anything from anyone he wanted to. Already anticipating his big win at the poker table, he looped the necklace around his neck along with his other jewelry as he pulled into the casino parking lot and headed into the building.

The doorman greeted him by name as he stepped into the smoky lobby. He was a frequent customer here, and everyone on the staff knew it. He tipped the guy a twenty dollar bill for his courtesy, already generous with his future winnings. Out on the floor, the smell of smoke and the sound of shuffling cards excited him, and he started scoping out poker tables, looking for the losers he was going to steal from today. There, he saw them. Four older guys, already drinking, ripe for the picking. He asked whether he could join them, the bear claw glinting in the dim light, and they happily agreed.

He took a moment to scope them out, trying to pick out their weak spots. They were obviously friends, and didn't pay the newcomer at the table much notice. They were all middle-aged, in their forties or fifties, and looked like their bodies had all seen better days. Three of them were happy to steal the limelight, chatting and laughing loudly and lewdly, while the forth sat there, smoking a cigar, watching the other three make fools of themselves. He was the one to watch, Kyle figured. The other three would be easy to pick off, but the fourth one knew what he was doing.

All of them eventually introduced themselves, the three loud ones were named Bill, Mick, and Steve. The quiet one was Roger, and he was close enough to shake Kyle's hand, and give him a wink, before turning his attention back to the game. They threw in their ante and the dealer dealt them their cards, and they played. Of course, the cards were only part of the game, the rest was in the conversation, in the tells and the bluffs, and that's where Kyle excelled.

"So how are you guys this afternoon?" Kyle said, eyeing his cards. Pair of Jacks.

"Oh, pretty good, you know."

"Yeah, except Bill here keeps taking all of our money."

"Yeah, the fuckin' thief."

"Hey, I can't help it if I get all the good hands you two," Bill said, grinning. Blushing. Telling. Good hand, Kyle thought.

The dealer flipped a third Jack, just for him apparently. Luck was coming early today, Kyle thought, but kept his face tensed. No reason to tell everyone else about it just yet.

"Yeah, well you've been getting lucky with more than poker, I tell ya," Steve said, "You should have seen the girl he took back to his room last night." He was sweating, shaking a bit. Bad hand. "She was a real looker."

"Yeah, well I can't help being the handsomest of the three of us."

"Ha, yeah right."

"Gentlemen," the dealer said, "We are still playing here."

They all focused back on the game for a moment, Steve dropping out early, along with Roger, while Kyle, Mick, and Bill remained as the pot grew. Nothing else good turned up for Kyle, but he was pretty confident with his three of a kind, at least until Bill beat him out with a straight flush, much to his disappointment.

"Sorry man, that's the way the game goes sometimes," Bill said as he collected the pot, but Kyle knew one loss wasn't the whole game.

"So Bill, you never did tell us how that girl was last night," Mick said with a smirk.

"Like I'm going to tell you, you fucking pervert. Go get laid yourself."

Mick laughed, "Yeah right, like I have much luck with that anymore. It's probably all of this damn body hair I've got. Girls get one look at it and that's that."

"You could shave it, you know," Bill said.

"Yeah right, like I'm going to take the time to do that."

"I know how that goes. I got the same problem." Steve said, "Girls get one look, and I can see the disgust on their face. Of course, a good prostitute will do anything,"

"Steve, that's gross."

"Yeah, but I still wish I could get rid of it," Mick said.

"Yeah man, me too," Steve added.

"Well I for one would love to get rid of this damn gut, as long as we're wishing," Bill said.

"Look, I'm sure this conversation doesn't bother you," Kyle said, scratching his chest, "but I for one find it kind of disgusting. Can we focus on the game now? I got some money to win back."

"Yeah, well I can see that you're a hairy one yourself."

"Hardly. That's what lasers are for," he replied as he threw in his ante.

The other guys looked at him, then at each other, and started laughing, all of them but Roger at least, who kept staring intently at him. It was that stare that freaked him out the most, and Kyle felt his face begin to redden. They kept chuckling all through the round, and Kyle was too flustered to play well, and folded early. Of course, that didn't stop their chuckles.

"Would you all stop laughing already!" he yelled.

"Sure," Mick said, "as soon as you see what's popping up out of your shirt collar."

Kyle, still scratching idly, felt around his neck and was surprised to find a large amount of chest hair poking out. Not just a little, but a ton. He kept his poker face on though, not wanting to freak out in front of the guys, "Excuse me. I gotta go to the rest room."

The men cracked up behind him as he left, but he was too busy wondering what the hell was going on. Out of curiosity, he rolled up his sleeve and saw just as much hair growing there which hadn't been there minutes ago. He was so distracted by the hair, that he didn't even notice the gut which was pulling his shirt tight across his belly until he was halfway across the floor, which just freaked him out more. He hurried past a busy craps table, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating, when he heard some guy say, "Come on, let the short guy through! I can't see the damn table. Man, I hate being short."

Kyle felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and watched as the floor rushed up to meet him as he dropped a good eight inches, stopping somewhere around 5'6". He was now swimming in his clothing, as he hurried the rest of the way to the bathroom, disoriented by the fact that he was looking up to see most people in the face. The restroom was empty, thankfully, and Kyle parked himself in front of the mirror to see what the hell was going on. There was definitely hair growing out of his collar, and even a heavy layer of stubble on his face which hadn't been there earlier. He unbuttoned the top few buttons, but all he could see was a thick forest of hair. Of course, none of this was as horrifying as the gut he had suddenly sprouted where his abs had been, and his sudden loss in height. What the hell was going on?

He heard the door open, and Kyle ducked into one of the bathroom stalls to avoid being discovered stripping in the bathroom, and he heard two young guys stumble in, obviously drunk, and obviously gay.

"I still can't believe you did that guy. I mean, did you see how fat he is? And how old?"

"Hey, he was fucking loaded though."

"Damn it, you are such a slut."

"Yeah, well it pays the bills."

"Don't you ever wish you could, you know, not have an insatiable lust for cock?"

Oh no.

"Yeah, I guess sometimes I wish I didn't have an insatiable lust for cock. Sometimes I wish I didn't love sucking off fat, dirty, old men and letting them fuck my ass, but hey, that's life. Now can you please get out of my face already?"

The first guy left the restroom followed by his friend, and Kyle was alone again. He tried not to think about what he'd just heard, but suddenly, all he could think about was how hot the other players at his table had been. With one hand, he started massaging his cock through his pants, thinking about how they might look naked. Yeah, maybe he'd go rent a room at the hotel, and invite the three of them up for a private game. Then, when he'd lost to them all, on purpose of course, he could offer to suck them all off for some of his money back, and maybe a bit extra, if they wanted a turn at his ass too. Yeah, he could just picture himself on the bed, Bill fucking his ass while the other three took turns with his mouth, maybe one of them sucking the young cum from his cock while Bill started shooting his own load up Kyle's ass. Panting and moaning loudly, Kyle's cock started shooting a massive wad into his pants, a dark stain forming on the front of his khakis. A few moments later, he realized what he'd done, and was horrified. He couldn't go back out there looking like that! But he couldn't stay in the bathroom for the rest of the day either. Then again, maybe the guys would notice it, and maybe they'd be willing to head back into the bathroom for some personal business of their own...

Kyle pushed the thoughts away, trying his best to keep a calm head. He got up off the toilet, and was surprised to find that at some point his clothes had shifted sizes to account for his new physique. Before he left, he took a look at himself in the mirror, and couldn't help admitting that he looked kind of hot with his new gut, and all that fur really made him look mature. Hell, he'd be willing to suck his cock, he thought, massaging the wet patch on the front of his pants. Unfortunately they were very light colored, and the spot was obvious, but he couldn't worry about that now--he had a game to get back to. He licked his stubbly lips lewdly, left the bathroom and headed back to the poker table. Several men along the way saw the dark patch on his pants and smirked, but Kyle wasn't thinking about that. All that was on his mind was figuring out how to get as many of his new friends into bed with him as he could.

As he approached the table, he saw all of the guys sitting there in a new light, but of all of them, the one Kyle couldn't stop looking at was Roger. First of all, it was because he was fat. Well, not just fat, he was obese, with an apron forcing his legs apart as he perched on the stool. He also looked like he was a bit older than his friends, probably in his early fifties, with a very nice salt and pepper colored beard. Kyle purposely shifted over a seat so that he was directly next to Roger. It was kind of hard to sit at the table at his new height, but he managed, kind of annoyed that his feet couldn't rest on the floor. Mick, Steve, and Bill chuckled some more as he returned. "You get everything sorted out, buddy?" Bill said.

"Sure did," Kyle said, then reached out with one hand and placed it on Roger's fat thigh, giving it a good squeeze. The fatter man looked over in confusion, but upon seeing the hunger in Kyle's eyes, he just smirked. "How are you doing, big guy?" Kyle asked, "Got anything I can sort out for you?"

"Big guy?" Roger said, "Is that what you call every guy you meet?"

"Nah, just the cute ones," Kyle whispered, giving the large man's thigh another squeeze.

"I'm sorry, but can we play now?" the dealer said, obviously unhappy with his table, and the focus turned back to the game, at least for everyone other than Kyle. He purposefully lost the next few hands, doing his best to give his winnings to Roger, and complimenting him on his skill at the game.

It took a round or two, but soon Roger's hand drifted over to Kyle's crotch and felt the wet spot there. "Have an accident in the bathroom buddy?" he said with a lewd grin.

"Well, thinking about cute guys like you gives me accidents all the time," Kyle said quietly, as Roger massaged his hard cock.

"You know," Roger said, "I seem to remember you being...taller when you were here before."

Kyle gulped, a bit nervous, "I...guess appearances can be deceiving."

"You have a nice pelt of hair I must say, I like that in a man."

"You..do?" Kyle said, blushing. He was kind of appalled that he was acting like a love sick school girl around Roger, but he was so attracted to him, he couldn't help it, "Do you...see anything else you like?"

"Oh...plenty," Roger said, and winked, "I'm just surprised that you see things that you like in me."

"Well, I like everything about you," Kyle blurted out, "I mean...I...I just think you're pretty hot," he added, trying to keep the others from hearing him.

"Well, you know I certainly wouldn't mind being fifty pounds lighter," Roger remarked casually, and watched as Kyle's waistline grew in front of his eyes, as his own clothes grew looser. Kyle was oblivious to the change, since he was far too focused on trying to please the older man next to him, but Roger saw it all, and could barely contain his excitement.

"I like big guys myself," Kyle added, "I could...uh...show you just how much I like them, if you're interested."

"You know, why don't we head somewhere and get to know each other a bit better? I have a room upstairs. What do you say?"

"What about your friends?" Kyle asked, "Can they come too?"

"I think I'd rather have you all to myself," Roger said, then got up from the table. The other three didn't even notice they were leaving, and the dealer was happy to have them away from his table. He always got the fags and the freaks.

Roger led Kyle to the elevator in the lobby, which they had all to themselves. Kyle couldn't resist feeling up Roger's cock and sack, but was kind of disappointed by how small it was.

"Don't you worry boy, I have a solution for that."

"What is it? Some herbal supplement?" Kyle asked.

"Something that I think will be very effective," Roger said, "You'll see."

The room wasn't far, and as soon as the door was shut behind them, Kyle was practically throwing himself at Roger as best he could, since the man was at least three or four inches taller than him.

"Whoa now, slow down boy! You're going to tire out an old man like me if you keep that up."

"Sorry, I just...damn your hot," Kyle said, got down on his knees and started rubbing his face into Roger's crotch.

"Well, I'm glad you think so, but I am sorry about one thing," Roger said, grinning, "I only have a three inch cock. Man what I wouldn't give to be rid of that thing and have a bigger tool."

Like magic, Roger's tool began to swell in his pants, and Kyle, barely cognizant of the fact that his own cock was shrinking rapidly in his own jeans. He unzipped the fly, and Roger's new eight inch cock flopped out. "What the hell are you talking about?" Kyle said, "This fucker is beautiful."

Kyle licked the shaft for a moment, feeling Roger shiver, and then took the whole cock in his mouth, or at least as much as he could. It was pretty rank, like the old man hadn't had a shower in days, but he sucked on it anyway, and actually found himself enjoying the flavor. Yeah, he loved dirty old men, the dirtier the better.

"Yeah boy, that's a good job you're doing there. I'm sorry if it's kind of sweaty and rank down there, I'm kind of lazy and don't shower all that often. I guess I'm just kind of a lazy ass all around, what with all of this fat. Man, I sure do wish that I wasn't so lazy, exercised regularly, ate right, and had better hygiene."

Immediately, Roger's waistline shrank, while Kyle's exploded in size. But it wasn't just his waist that grew this time though, his entire body packed on the pounds. His stubble lengthened into an unkempt beard, and his hair grew disheveled and long, like it hadn't been cut, or washed, in quite a while. The hand which had been massaging his short cock was pushed away as it was swallowed up by his enlarging gunt. Needing something else to play with, Kyle unbuttoned his large shirt and began tweaking the fat nipples poking out from his forest of body hair.

"Dang, that works even better than I thought it would!" Roger said, admiring his new slim, and much cleaner, physique. "Now all I need is to lose a good thirty years and I'll have it made."

Kyle's changes didn't progress as quickly this time, as he aged from his mid twenties to early thirties, but then he started to see some big changes. A large bald spot appeared on the back of his head, and his hairline receded, the hair becoming speckled with gray. In the mirror, Roger watched his his own hair grew back in, returning to a black he hadn't seen in years. The wrinkles lining his face disappeared, and overall, a new sense of vitality filled him as Kyle kept sucking happily. Of course, the new, fit body he found himself in didn't hurt. Roger felt like a million bucks, to be honest. New memories began filling his head as well, how he'd gone on to college and majored in business, landing a job at a high end real estate firm. Yeah, he was going to live his life right this time.

However, he couldn't help but feel a wave of disgust wash over him when he looked down and saw the disgustingly fat old man sucking on his cock. Still, Kyle deserved something in exchange for his generosity, Roger thought.

"Get up you old faggot and get on the bed," Roger said, helping the now fat, middle aged slut to his feet, "I want to fuck that ass of yours." After stripping off his clothes, Kyle hoisted himself up onto the bed as best he could and Roger lined up his own cock and thrust into his eager hole.

"Yeah, fuck me you fat, old bastard, fuck my ass!" Kyle shouted, too lost in the moment to even notice the changes that had swept over him.

"Old? Fat? I think you're mistaken. You're the fat and old one here my friend." Kyle looked in the mirror and finally saw what had happened to both of them. There on the bed was one of the fattest men he had ever seen, covered with grey body hair all over. The rolls of fat shook every time the muscular young man smoking a cigar behind him thrust his thick cock up the old man's ass. "Are you senile or something?" Roger continued, "I mean, you're lucky I'm interested in fucking you at all, you nasty faggot. Do you know how much you smell? Of course, the cigar smoke won't help much, in a moment. I mean, this is such a shitty habit, I've had it for years. I'd do anything to get rid of it."

The cigar vanished from the young man's mouth and materialized in Kyle's, who began sucking on it for dear life, his body craving the nicotine. Kyle was still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. He could remember being a young successful real estate agent, but he could also remember being an old dirty slob, renting a cheap room from the local casino so he could pick up old men like himself to give him a good fuck. He wasn't entirely sure why he had brought this young guy up with him, but the cock in his ass sure felt good, so he wasn't going to complain, as he continued pushing back, meeting the young man's thrusts, "Yeah boy, that's a hot cock you got there. Fuck that old, worn out ass of mine good and hard!"

"You fucking slut," Roger said as he quickened his pace, and with a grunt he came, filling Kyle's ass with the cum he so desperately wanted. Before he finished, he pulled his cock out and wiped it on Kyle's furry ass, then tucked it into his pants.

"Hey, what about finishing me off?" Kyle said, rolling over and sprawling his fat body across the bed, "Daddy needs some loving too."

"What, you honestly think I would suck off a disgusting man like you? Hell, you're lucky I was even willing to fuck you at all. I only did this because I felt sorry for you, but don't push your luck," Roger said. All dressed, he headed for the door, pausing only to add, "Have a nice life. I hope you enjoy it more than I did," and then left as fast as he could. He had an appointment with a couple of clients to keep--he couldn't be wasting an afternoon at the casino gambling his new life away.

Kyle sighed, wishing he had someone to play with, but he figured he could make do with himself for the moment. He took a long drag on his cigar, rubbing his massive belly as he did, groaning. God, he was so hot! He rolled over and positioned himself so he could look at his image in the mirror, and wished he could suck himself off. He still wasn't sure why he'd gotten that young man to fuck him--he wasn't usually interested in the young, skinny ones, but hey, he wasn't going to complain about getting a fuck. It took some effort, but he managed to wrap one of his wrinkled hands around his hard, stubby cock and start working it as best he could, eager to get off, moaning and grunting while he did. Finally, he managed to squirt off a load, and then rolled back exhausted and panting. He just wasn't able to exert himself like he could when he was younger.

That thought struck him as odd. He was only 26 after all, he wasn't all that old, but for some reason his mind was insisting that that was wrong. That he was a 56 year old, morbidly obese, cock whore for dirty old men. Hell, he was one of those dirty old men, the thought, and he loved it, taking another drag from his cigar, and tweaking one of his nipples. He thought about trying to find those guys from the poker table earlier, to see if they wanted to make use of his services, and if he couldn't find them, he figured that he could at least head to the bar and see if there was someone else to pick up. It took some work, but he managed to heft himself up and swing his stubby legs off the side of the bed. Damn, he hated being short, but it wasn't worth getting mad over what he didn't have, like his stubby cock. Looking down at his chest, he saw a sparkle against his pelt of chest hair, and dug out a bear claw necklace. The bear claw necklace that he'd stolen. Suddenly, all of his real memories came flooding back, and terrified of what might happen if he kept wearing it, he tried his best to remove the necklace, but while there should have been plenty of room to get his head out from under the chain, no matter how he pulled and twisted, it never seemed to come loose. After five minutes of grappling with it, he finally gave up, panting. It had to be the necklace, that was the only thing that could be causing this.

He got up from the bed and retrieved the clothes from the floor. Or, at least what his head was telling him were his clothes. First came a pair of nasty, sweaty, over-sized briefs, with a large streak of shit up the crack. He knew they were disgusting, but he sniffed them anyway, feeling his cock jump in excitement. He pulled them on before his new impulses made him to something with them he might regret later. Next came a pair of cheap polyester slacks and a sweaty stained undershirt, followed by a massive button down shirt that looked like it could be used as a sail for a raft. Everything he was wearing had any number of sweat stains on it, mostly under his pits. Just out of curiosity, he took a sniff, and recoiled from the funk. He'd take a shower, but there wasn't time. Besides, the smell made him feel...horny. He pushed the thought away, and headed out the door to the hotel elevator, unconsciously lighting up another cigar as he waited for the lift. He could feel the necklace against his chest, weighing down on him. It was insane, sure, but what else could it be? He needed to get it back to the mall, before something worse happened, although he had a hard time fathoming what might be worse than this.