Prologue

Hank loved his body. If anybody needed to define Narcissism they just had to point at 'Hank, the Hunky Bear'. After being a flabby chub of a nerd when he was in his early teens he had buffed himself up with constant diets and working out at the gym or his backyard. He wasn't a walking 'before and after' ad that was pandering more the use of steroids and other muscle inducing shit. No, Hank was proud of his body because he had worked very hard to get it as it was now. Working out with his hand weights, lying down on the bench of the makeshift gym his father and he had sent built in the backyard's gazebo, Hank looked back at what he was then, just turned thirteen, and what he had achieved up to now, eighteen and waiting to go away to college.

Chapter 1

After being a fat bullied kid since kindergarten through all his Grade School and Junior High, he decided to take matters in his hands and stop being the victim of the story. Not exactly a geek, Hank was a little of a cyber-wiz, and had found an ad of an image re-maker, an ex-marine who offered his services to reshape any man (or boy, for that matter) into their idea of a fit body. After arranging all matters via Internet they at last had the face to face interview. Mr. Parr, the instructor, or more the 'Body Shaper' as he advertised himself, was a mean bastard of a bear that had laid down the ground rules. Hank was to be shaped up into a man... and he was going to rue the day he ever met Mr. Parr. He was laying his body... AND LIFE, into this silver bear's hands and he was going to pay not only in cash.

He'd finish all his homework during Study Hall time to have all the afternoons free for his re-shaping. He'd been saving most of his allowance for ages, besides all the extra bonus his parents would give him for doing so well in school (in spite of the bullying), and had more than enough to pay the health-guru's fee. Mr. Parr drilled him harshly, but Hank was aware of the pain and sacrifice it would take for him to endure the whole process of self-reconstruction. The ex-marine was proud of him for wanting to stop being a fat doormat at thirteen, but had warned him openly that he was going to sweat blood in his hands, and Hank had decided that he preferred to pay to be bullied into shape in private than to go on being humiliated in public. Of course the advantages had started to show from the start. Slowly but surely, so slow that Hank wasn't aware of the changes until later on.

It was arranged and agreed that Mr. Parr would pick him up at home early in the mornings to make sure he went to school and didn't slack it off. This terrorized Hank into getting up far earlier than ever before to avoid Mr. Parr from disturbing his parents or have them even suspect what he was up to. And after school the instructor would pick him up, despite the jibes and cat-calls he'd receive from most of the school's kids, to take him to his house where he had his gym in his basement. And after the work out, the man would leave the remains of the boy at his home's doorsteps and the drill would repeat itself every day except Sundays. Hank's mother had a hard time awaking him those days to go to Mass, and had to keep poking the dozing-off boy in the church's pews.

The first weeks were the worst. His body was in constant pain from working out so much at Mr. Parr's gym, even over hours on Saturdays, but his instructor had forbidden him from taking even a simple Aspirin to mitigate the everlasting ache. "No pain; no gain!" the sadist bull would repeat as a curse, drilling his torture mantra into Hank's brain. Hank could only drink water, lots of water and eat a controlled diet high in carbs and proteins, exceeded in greens.

So much water had him peeing every ten minutes, and now he had to add insult over injury when all his class mates would throw puns and cackles at him. The diet was another torture: he was always hungry and hated greens. He had to develop a firm and strong will to resist gorging himself with candy bars and junk food after a stressful day at school. Mr. Parr had even knocked him off his feet once when he confessed having sneaked a pack of cookies into his locker. Of course he didn't want to give his school 'pals' another chance to make fun of the bruise on his chin the next day, so both in terror of this military drill gorilla, and pride, he endured the torture he had gotten himself into and was paying for.

In spite of all his precautions, his parents did get to notice something odd was going on and were worried sick. To begin with, they hardly saw their son all day, except at dinner time, after an unknown older man dropped him off (they peeked through the Venetian blinds), exhausted and so worn out he could hardly finish his meal without nodding in sleepiness. His grades hardly decreased so they couldn't hackle him about school, for obviously that wasn't the issue. They knew their son and were sure that drugs and alcohol weren't the problem either. They only hoped their baby-bundle was having girl problems, because that stranger in the fancy car was giving them dark and dismal ideas as they laid sleepless nights in bed, worrying.

But one day Hank looked at himself in the mirror at home and didn't recognize himself. Though still hefty his teen fuzz covered body wasn't flabby anymore, his muscles didn't shake like jelly when he moved. The workout was actually working! The torture he was paying for was showing its results at long last! And after weighing himself on the bathroom's scale and seeing his weight easily without a paunch getting in the way, and seeing the numbers waaaaaay lower than ever in his life, that did it, he was hooked.

He surprised Mr. Parr by willingly doing overtime, stopping any kind of gripe and complaint and enduring the instructor's drill. It turned out that even his parents noted the change when he wanted a second serving of salad instead of the extra three spare-ribs, like he used to, and cut down on the butter on the mashed potatoes. All their fears vanished when he told them at last who Mr. Parr was and of his intentions of losing weight and drilling himself into shape. His mother started to change her cooking to accommodate to her son's fitness regime, and both her husband and herself experienced the benefits also when their health improved and both started to lose weight also. The boy still ate a lot (a big bowl of soup, mostly vegetables, with two slices of whole grain bread with very little real butter, two big steaks and lots of potatoes in any presentation; steamed greens and heaping bowls of green salads) but he washed it all down with clear fresh water, not soda-pops, like he used to, or natural fruit juices.

His grades went from good to better, so when he asked them to build a home gym in the old gazebo in the backyard, the one he had used as a secret retreat as a child, they gladly complied. And knowing the identity of the older man their son had hired to whip him into shape gave them at last nights of restful sleep.

Since he was too tired at the end of the day to waste time logging-in to his favorite sites and chat rooms after doing last details on the next day's homework assignment, Hank would be in bed much earlier than before and would wake the next morning really re-freshened and relaxed. Sleep was the best restorative.

And it was at school that the change had started to show even more apparently when he started catching everybody's eye, because he stopped using those baggy and dirty sweat suits that only emphasized his flab. He cut his greasy locks and stylishly combed his hair, his early-teen body fuzz had turned to fur so he shaved and started sporting a goatee, threw his smelly sneakers away and started using regular shoes. He went shopping with his mother and nice shirts and trousers now made him look quite attractive, eyeglasses notwithstanding. He was a regular teen teddy bear cub. Wherever he'd go in school there were always four of five boys and girls trailing after him, in the terrible thralls of hopeless puppy love. He would smile at them and let them carry his books, even pat their heads once in a while and they would almost drool in infantile adoration of their teen idol. Nobody had ever paid any attention to him, if not to bully him, and now it seemed he was the center of a mas sive crush. He started High School with high colors.

After catching Hank working out in the school's gym at recess hour, Coach Martin, the school's Physical Ed teacher, had quit berating him and now actually congratulated him for his progress, even giving his biceps an unnecessary squeeze. He couldn't quite assimilate the fact that this was the same person that a few years ago couldn't pull his bulk up even once at the pull-up bar, and now he had just done twenty straight pull-ups in the empty school gym. He suggested to the improved teenaged cub to do the try-outs for the weight lifting team. Hank was on cloud nine.

His aggressors stopped messing with him after a surprisingly humiliation-free session of Physical Ed, when they all were naked in the showers. Hank's loss off weight and strengthening of his muscles, tightening his frame, made everyone gasp when they at last got to see Hank's dick. After years of being overshadowed by the bulk of his flab and the over-folds of his belly, his cock was now free to show its six inches soft uncut splendor. Hank was hung! His dick was really big compared with his companions. He had never been able to see his own dick by looking down, and all the extra fat at his pubes had almost hid his cock. But when all the attention of his companions made him sprout an unashamed woody, he became the school's hero. They all applauded in the dressing room when from six inches soft, with an enormous overhang, he went to a raging almost nine and a half inches, hands free, right in front of his school buddies and some new found secret friends.

Chapter 2

This new found respect drew him to explore limits of endurance that neither he nor Mr. Parr thought he had in him. But the gym instructor was very proud of his ward. From an insecure thirteen year old mound of flab he had made THIS: a handsome sixteen year old bear cub, ready to take the world by storm. With tears in his eyes, Mr. Parr told him that he couldn't do anything else to improve what had gotten to the verge of perfection: Hank's body was still big, but hard and trim, because since the beginning he had told the instructor that he didn't want to lose bulk, just tighten himself up and his flab had turned him into a round cub of a teddy bear. Standing in front of the health club's dressing room mirror in only his jock strap, Hank was a sight to behold.

Mr. Parr surprised him with a special request. He asked Hank if he would agree to pose for some pictures, to keep in his scrap book as proof of their mutual success. Hank's vanity wasn't at all shy and wanted more than anything to have his accomplishment photographed, so he started to get dressed.

"No, no, like that, only in your jock strap".

Well, so Mr. Parr was a dirty old man and wanted to make some dirty pictures? Why not? His vanity flared up, Hank started to pose and flex while his instructor shot away with his cheap cell-phone. The instructor went around the teenager clicking one picture after another, his furry chest, his hairy buns, his fuzz covered legs. All of a sudden Mr. Parr stopped taking pictures and Hank looked down wondering what had caused the interruption. Mr. Parr was sitting right in front of him, staring in dazed amazement at his jock strap which was tented out because the boy had sprouted a huge erection, caused by all that attention he was getting from the silver bear. The instructor's mouth had gone dry and his heart was beating strongly in his chest and pounded in his ears. Not understanding what was going on, he barely had saliva to speak.

"Hank... can I... please... can I suck... suck your c... co... cock... please?" The older man was having a hard time expressing his desire.

"But, Mr. Parr, aren't you married?"

Nobody was more surprised by what was going on than Mr. Parr himself. Of course he was married! He had grandchildren! He was straight! And here he was, begging... hoping this teenager would let him suck him off. "Yes, I am, but... but... I..."

Hank made it easy for him by pulling his jock strap down and freeing the object of his straight bending lust. As it popped out of its confinement the foreskin peeled back and revealed his glistening glans as it spewed a single crystal clear drop of dick lube that landed right on Mr. Parr's lips. The silver bear's eyes rolled back in ecstasy and yielding to this unnatural impulse he took a firm grip of Hank's engorged cock, opened his mouth as far as he could and impaled his face on the boy's nine and a half inches schlong.

It was a mutual revelation. The older man at long last had found what he had been missing all these years. The strong and pungent taste of raw male cock, the smell of stale urine and dry semen on male pubes, the stuffed feeling of having all that meat in his mouth had Mr. Parr trying to exceed any limit he might have and swallow as much as he could of Hank's sixteen year old meat tube.

He grabbed onto Hank's hairy buns, the mounds of hard flesh bigger than the man's hands, and pulled the boy towards him, making Hank's cock pass his esophagus and start to curve down to his stomach. His face radish red, his eyes watering a storm, his saliva and Hank's pre-cum overflowing his stuffed mouth, Mr. Parr could only look up to Hank and silently beg -"Please, please, feed me, fill me up!"-

Hank was only too glad to oblige, placed his hands behind Mr. Parr's head to even his balance and let the man have what he was asking for: a young and fresh cum load shot right into his guts.

And as he unleashed a torrent of cum into the man's mouth Hank knew that he was destined to open people's eyes to their inner monsters. Here was this perfectly heterosexual man (up to now) finding his real self and swallowing his cock and cum all because he had buffed himself up.

Even after having his full of Hank's spunk, Mr. Parr didn't want to release the boy's cock from his mouth. Only after Hank pulled him off by the hair of the back of his head that the man relinquished his favorite food from then and there on: young men's cocks and cum. With his face wet with tears, sweat and snot from his nostrils dripping onto his chest, Mr. Parr looked up to Hank's face and couldn't help but to blurt out -"I love you, Hank."-

-"Yeah, I know." Hank dressed up, left the rest of his instructor's fee on the work bench, and left without even a back-glance to the weeping man who was furiously jerking off in the middle of the floor.

From that moment on, Hank trained himself to use his cock as a lure for those in need of immediate release of hidden and forbidden pleasures. And maybe he just might find out which was his secret yearning. Taking revenge on his agressors? Taking advantage of all those little kids swarming around him? Tough choice.

To Be Continued