Bear Virus: Chapter 6 - A Light Warmup

Tony drove for a while, turning up the radio, already feeling that sensation of horniness cresting. He enjoying this, perhaps even more than he’d expected he would, and as he drove, he found himself looking at men on the street, or in the cars beside him, and thinking about what kinds of changes he could make to them. He’d driven for a few blocks before he realized that he wasn’t quite sure where he was headed. He was going to the gym of course. The problem, was that Tony—the old Tony; the slender, small, meek Tony he was having a hard time even remembering—hadn’t been going to the gym at all. Tony though, knew that he’d been to a gym, and he decided to just sit back and trust his body and memories to guide him there eventually. He was a bit confused when he ended up in the parking lot of the college where his dad worked, but then, everything seemed to click into place.

Before, his dad had been an accountant here. Now though, his dad worked in athletic administration—scheduling games, scouting talent, administering scholarships, and assorted stuff like that. Working at the college meant he could work out here whenever he wanted, and of course Tony could work out here because…he was a student here, wasn’t he? Certainly he was old enough to be in college now, and it would make sense that he’d go to the school where his dad worked, since he didn’t have to pay room and board, and he also got a discount on tuition. Not to mention, he could still fuck his dad’s hole whenever he wanted, and make sure his dad was adequately supplied with all the cum he could guzzle. By the time he’d parked outside the athletic facility, it all felt perfectly obvious. Tony was on the football and wrestling teams, naturally, but he was also pursuing a degree in biology, with a focus on genetics at the same time. His dad wasn’t the brightest fellow, but Tony more than made up for it with his wits. He got down out of the truck, grabbed his bag, and headed down into the basement, where the weight room was located.

It was used by both the athletes at the school, but the rest of the student population could use it as well. For the most part, there wasn’t much tension, aside from a few bullies and troublemakers. When Tony entered the weight room, he saw a small group of students he immediately recognized from the football team. They were huddled up around the bench press, laughing, and clearly directing their jokes at another student who was toying with one of the weight machines, trying to decipher how it worked. Tony felt a flare of anger—he knew what it was like, being the scrawny guy. The young man in question looked to be a freshman, not quite as small as Tony had been earlier that day, but certainly not familiar with the machines and culture of the gym. It looked like he was just trying it out, and from the flush of red on his cheeks, it was likely that he would tuck his tail and run soon enough, and probably wouldn’t ever return. Tony wouldn’t have that—he headed right for the fellow. “You look like you could use some help, bud,” he said, and he heard the laughs and murmurs quiet down. Tony looked over at the little posse of jocks, and could tell from their eyes that they didn’t quite recognize Tony, though reality would catch up to them soon enough.

“Oh, uh…yeah, I’ve never used this one before,” the young man said, clearly intimidated by Tony’s massive frame.

“What’s your name, man?”

“It’s…uh, Peter.”

“Alright Peter, let me show you. This is a smith machine, you ever heard of that before?”

Tony walked him through how to use the machine, how to move the bar up and down, how to load it up for him. The jocks lost interest after a while, and went back to their workout, but Tony could tell that spell had already infected Peter, from the way the young man was looking at him—and at Tony’s bulge in the front of his short cut gym shorts. 

“Thanks, that’s really helpful,” Peter said, once Tony finished his explanation. “I…didn’t get your name, though.”

“Oh, it’s Tony. You know, if you want, I can show you some more tricks too.”

Peter’s whole face blushed, and Tony could see the skinny fellow was hard as a rock. “Yeah! I mean, if you aren’t busy or something. Don’t…you need to work out?”

“This will be a good warm up for me,” Tony said, glancing over at the jocks bullshitting each other as they bench pressed. “Come on, follow me.”

Tony headed for the door, and after a bit of hesitation, Peter got up and followed him out of the weight room and down the unoccupied hall. “Wait, where are we going?”

“Just somewhere with a little more space,” Tony said, then tested a door handle, and pulled Peter into the wrestling practice room. Tony took a moment to give Peter another look. He was short and rail thin. He had a scruffy looking goatee and glasses on. The way he stood only seemed to make him look smaller. Clearly, Peter’s confidence had been beaten out of him over the years. Well, Tony would see about that. Peter had a surprisingly hungry look in his eyes as he took Tony in. He was familiar with the look—the envy, the desire. “How about a little wrestling, to get warmed up,” Tony said with a grin.

“Me? Wrestle you? No way,” Peter said, “I knew this was some fucked up joke,” he added, and turned towards the door.

Before he could get there, Tony grabbed hold of him, dragged him over towards the mats, and tossed him onto the padded floor, before throwing himself on top of him. “Come on Peter, you know we always wrestle before a workout,” Tony said, “You’re looking good, getting bigger, and fuck, you smell good and musky today, don’t you?” Tony pushed his nose into Peter’s pit from where he was pinning him down and took a whiff. Sure enough, as he said it, he could feel Peter’s body expanding with muscle, the musk growing more pungent. “Besides, I can feel how fuckin’ horny you are…”

Peter couldn’t resist thrusting his cock up to meet Tony’s massive bulge, grinding them together, oblivious to the pounds and pounds of muscle he was packing on in moments. “Fuck Tony, you’re still so much bigger than me, this isn’t really a fair fight.”

“Maybe you don’t mind losing to me on occasion,” Tony said, and flipped Peter over so he was on his belly, “After all, winner gets to fuck the loser, and isn’t that hole of yours hungry? Why don’t I get a load in you? I think you’ll feel much better.”

Tony yanked down the back of Peter’s shorts, ripped open his underwear, and ran his cock up and down Peter’s crack, “Relax, you can take it. You’re a champ, aren’t you?”

Tony pushed in, gently, and felt Peter’s hole open up eagerly. He drove his big cock all the way in, Peter moaning in pleasure, Tony thrusting quick, whispering little bits into his ear, about how big he is, how much he loves wrestling, he’s been doing it all his life, after all, nothing get’s Peter hornier than throwing down with a sweaty, musky guy like Tony. Tony made this load quick, pistoning in, and exploded deep in Peter’s hole, filling him up, watching his virus soaked cum begin cementing and intensifying the changes. By the time he pulled out, the meek framed Peter was gone. Instead, he helped up his friend Peter from the wrestling team, six foot one, two hundred and sixty pounds, stinking to high heaven. “Fuck Tony, I needed that more than you know,” he said—then looked at the  mirror, and gasped. “Wait, what…what did you do to me? I…I’m fucking huge!”

Tony came and stood next to him, dwarfing him by several inches and a good fifty pounds. “I saw a guy who needed some assistance. How about another round, eh?” Tony said, groping Peter’s crotch. “After all, I can make you bigger still, if you want…”

“Oh…oh fuck, wait, no…I need to think about this…” Peter said, moaning as Tony stroked his cock.

“You don’t need to think, Peter. You’re not a thinker. All you know is that you want to get bigger, stronger, thicker, hairier, and filthier all the time,” Tony said, his own excitement beginning to overwhelm him. Peter pulled away, but clearly the virus was still working away at his system. If anything, now that Peter had a load of Tony’s cum in his guts, it only seemed to be working faster. He was packing on mass now, not as tall as Tony was, but nearly as thick and broad at this point. Hair was sprouting across his shoulders, down his chest, and Tony could smell him, the layers of sweat caked on his skin.

Peter clutched his head in his hands, “Fuck, why…why’s it so fuckin’ hard to think all of a sudden, I…this isn’t right, this ain’t me…”

“Sure it is. You’re PJ, one of the school’s star wrestlers,” Tony said, helping smooth over reality for him. “Star wrestler, and nasty fucker to boot. Look at you, wearing that old singlet of yours, the one you never wash, with the crotch and the ass ripped out, that filthy jockstrap underneath it.”

Peter, or PJ, as his mind was beginning to insist, looked back at the mirror, taking in his hairy, hulking body. His too tight gym clothes had disappeared in a moment, replaced by a filthy, sweat stained singlet. Just as Tony had said, the crotch was ripped open, as was the ass, showing off a stank, brownish jockstrap underneath. “Heh, guy’s gotta have good access, right Tony?” he said. His voice was a bit slower now, deeper too. He struck a double bicep pose, admiring himself. “Fuck, what were we doin’? I always get distracted around mirrors.”

“I think we were gonna have a rematch, if I remember right. I don’t quite feel warmed up yet, do you?”

PJ stepped up to him, a few inches shorter, but a massive wall of muscle now, stinking to high heaven. “Fuck, you know I’ll take any opportunity to pin that ass a yers, Tony.”

“Yeah? You a big horny fucker with a big thick cock?” Tony said, groping the crotch of PJ’s filthy jock, feeling it throb larger as he spoke, “Big stupid wrestler who loves to top anyone he beats in a match?”

With a growl, PJ slammed into him. It was a very different match than before, with Peter, who had been more like a wet noodle getting thrown around by Tony for fun. Now he could feel their muscles flexing against one another. He had the height advantage, but PJ more than compensated with sheer force, instinctual skill, and an overwhelming desire to win—and fuck. That, and Tony felt like PJ could use a win in his life, at last. He didn’t quite throw the match, but when he ended up on his belly, with PJ on top of him, heavy breath against his neck, he wasn’t going to object. PJ tugged down Tony’s pants, pulled his massive, beer can thick cock out from the side of his jock, the head already slick with precum, and pushed it against Tony’s hole.

Pretty soon, they were rutting together, the whole practice room, smelling of their stink, Tony urging PJ on to fuck like the animal he is. After a few minutes, PJ’s cock exploded, filling Tony’s hole with a load of his own, and collapsed on top of him, cock softening inside him before it finally slipped free, allowing the two of them to roll onto their backs and cuddle for a moment, breathing heavy.

“Fuck Tony, ya sure know how tah get me warmed up.”

“I certainly feel ready for a workout,” Tony said.

After a few minutes of relaxing, they got up from the mat, and again, PJ found himself in front of the mirror, staring at himself. Six foot, nearly three hundred and twenty five pounds of muscle, all of it straining the filthy singlet he wore all the time, massive cock tucked back into his grungy jock. “I…I wasn’t…like this, before…” he said.

“No, you weren’t—but do you object?” Tony asked him.

“No—fuck no. I fuckin’ love it. I feel amazing.”

“I figured you’d like it.”

“But…you…didn’t even know me, did you?” PJ said, then rubbed his face with his grubby hands, “Everything is so jumbled, and I can’t…think right.”

“I knew what it was like to be you, is all. Besides, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“Of course!”

“And you remember those guys making fun of you in the gym?” Toby said, with a little grin on his face.

“Yeah, the fuckin’ assholes.”

“Well, why don’t we have a little fun ourselves, eh?”

PJ just smiled back. “Tell me what ya have in mind, bud.”

Tony told him his plan, and watched PJ’s smile get even bigger, and once they’d hammered out a few details, they headed back to the weight room, to put those jerks in their proper place.