Haunted House - Part 3

So I'd originally intended to have this done for Halloween, but it's sort of grown a bit longer than I'd expected. I'm guessing another 1 or 2 parts before I wrap it up and get back to less themed posts. And also another vote on what's next. Anyway, enjoy!

Up until the moment Colin felt something grab him by the nose, he was totally cool with everything that was going on. He didn’t know why he was so relaxed given there was so much smoke in the room he’d normally thought the mansion was on fire, or the fact that his supposedly straight best friend  was busily hoovering his hog which, by the way, was much larger than he remembered waking up with that morning.

But what young man about to venture forth into the adult world would complain about having a huge cock? None of this was all that alarming. Not until it felt like someone had sunk their fingers into his nostrils and was trying to rip his nose off.

Colin only managed to make sputtering noises around the cigar in his lips. Jack was so engrossed with running his tongue around Colin’s thick foreskin that he hardly noticed anything awry. In fact, he thought he was being encouraged by Colin’s inability to even articulate his pleasure, but that soon changed when he finally looked up.

Behind Colin there was a menacing figure, eyes glowing red, his wide outline a mere silhouette amongst the smoke and shadows. His hands grasped Colin, his eyes frantically searching for his attacker but unable to see anything. Then it seemed as though the smoke coalesced and surged forward, a rumbling laughter in the distance as the figure seemed to be sucked inside Colin’s nose like his nasal passages were suddenly connected to an industrial vacuum.

Jack fell backwards, shocked, terrified, not sure what he was seeing. When the smokey figure seemed to have been entirely inhaled by Colin, his eyes rolled back for a moment before falling back down with a predatory look at Jack’s shivering form.

Those eyes didn’t belong to Colin anymore, and neither did his voice. What was once a somewhat squeaky tenor still getting used to adulthood had become a deep and resonant baritone completely unfit for the slight body such a sound was coming from.

“Hello, Jacky boy. I’ve got big plans for you once I’m done with your friend here,” Colin said while running a hand suggestively down his torso to his still enormous erection. “But first, I think I’ll make myself more at home. I was never really into the twink look.”

And with that Colin began to change, quickly and drastically. Colin had always been thin for as long as Jack could remember, but in moments his face had rounded out, his cheeks and jowls suddenly thicker than the rest of his body. On top of that, a thick 5’oclock shadow formed from his neck to his sideburns, soon growing out into a short beard that flowed down to meet the few wispy hairs on Colin’s chest.

But they didn’t stay wispy for long. A pelt worthy of a Greco-Roman wrestler soon appeared as hair grew up to Colin’s shoulders before cascading down his arms and ending in thick-furred knuckles. As the hair grew, so too did the rest of him, his entire blowing up an inflating balloon. Chest and shoulders broadened, arms thickened, and fingers blew up into stubby sausages.

The hair grew further down, a momentary gap between the sagging remains of Colin’s pecs as they grew into almost womanly breasts if one were to ignore the coarse fibers that nearly obscured his nipples. What few furs that coated Colin’s abs were soon joined by many friends as his middle bowed out into a round pot before expanding further into a thick, soft, gut.

What few pubes Colin possessed became a dense forest that obscured the base of his shaft and ballsac before connecting with the hair descending from Colin’s tank of a stomach. Legs, feet, and ass all followed suit, ballooning out to fit the rest of him while gaining their own coating of dense fur. Although the hair ebbed and flowed in certain spots, there wasn’t a single inch of Colin’s now-corpulent form that wasn’t covered in follicles.

The net effect of the beard and hair made it seem like Colin had aged a decade in seconds. He’d gone from mild teen to a hairy beast of a man, his massive size far more appropriate to the baritone of his voice.

“Mm, much better,” the now much fatter Colin said even as a patch of hair in the middle of his double chin grew out just a bit more than the rest. The same style of beard as the man in the painting.

He patted his stomach a few times before reaching over his middle to tug at his still hard cock. “God, I’d missed the virility of youth. I feel like I can keep this thing hard as a board for hours. Ah, but what about you, my young friend? We can’t have you looking like a starving beggar in my illustrious home!”

Despite his size, the fat man shot forward and grabbed Jack in for a bear hug, squishing him into his soft, hairy body. And despite the cigar still clamped between his lips, Colin brought his chubby face down to Jack for a sloppy kiss. The lit end never burned his face or hair, and afterward Jack found the cigar locked between his own lips as though it had always been there.

“Now suck like you were doing to my big dick a second ago, honey. We’re going to make a man out of you.”