It was a hot summer day and the city was filled with people coming to be a part of one of the biggest fantasy conventions in the country. Video games, board games, tabletop RPGs, LARP, movies, TV shows, theater shows, even musicals. If one fancied themselves a fan of a franchise that existed in any of these forms, they could be found spending a sunny August weekend in the convention center.
Mark meandered between countless people in the Second Pavilion, getting tired having spent the last five hours walking around the convention area, being asked for pictures and catching up with his friends. This year he came wearing a full cosplay of one of the characters from his favorite first person shooter. He put on a tactical vest, helmet with a full headset, a tactical belt with a bunch of accessories and camo pants. In his hands he was bearing a perfect replica of the most famous gun from the game.
He spent a long time perfecting the costume, both by searching for just the right gear and by spending hours in the gym. Now his broad and thick shoulders, football-sized biceps and veiny forearms were visible for all attendees, which garnered Mark a lot of attention, which he enjoyed.
It was exhausting, however. The temperature inside the convention center got uncomfortably high at times, so he decided to take a break. He fold the few friends who joined him during the day that he was leaving for a while to take in some relatively fresh air, then pushed his way through the crowds until he got to the exit.
Thanks to the fact that the center was basically in the middle of the city he didn't have to go far to get to a park and relax, then find a place to eat and just take a walk through the city.
Mark was aware that many businesses and institutions had various perks for the convention ticket holders, to keep the attendees in the city for longer and spread the economic effects of the convention. He was reminded of this fact just as he was walking by the giant building of the art museum. His curiosity was piqued and he checked if he would get a discount of a ticket. It turned out he could walk in for free, the only requirement was to show his pass at the entrance.
What Mark saw after getting through a quick but awkward security check truly amazed him. He slowly walked from one part of the building to the next, taking his time to watch every piece, all displayed in a well air-conditioned space, which was a nice bonus. The museum had a bunch of different special exhibits currently open to the public and they were all pretty stunning, each in its own way.
Finally, Mark made his way to a part of the museum furthest away from the entrance where he saw a recent collection of sculptures from a local artist. Each statue was an extremely realistic depiction of a person, and they were supposed to collectively represent modern society. There were athletes mid-run, businessmen in the middle of walking in between offices, chefs tasting their newest creations, it was all incredible to watch, every sculpture most likely taking weeks or months to complete. Mark stood in the middle of the room as he looked around and every time he managed to find a new detail in one of the statues. While his eyes were jumping from one piece to another, inspecting every curve and small detail, he was unaware of just how much time has passed since he entered this space.
And then he tried to move.
Mark heard his phone buzz loudly in his pocket. It was probably one of his friends wanting to check up on him. He tried to move his hand to take the phone and answer the call, but it wouldn't move. Neither would his head. Or any part of his body. He was immediately alarmed. Mark tried as hard as he could to get any element within his human form to move even an inch, but it didn't work. His whole body was suddenly completely stationary and he could not control its movements, because he couldn't cause any movements. He started to panic and hoped someone would notice that he wasn't well. There were a lot of people at the museum so it would be just a matter of time before one of them came to this room and noticed a guy in a military cosplay was standing weirdly still.
Except this did not happen. Visitors just passed by him with no interest in the person standing frozen in the middle of the room. As Mark looked with his unmovable eyes at the tourists wandering around the space right in front of him he felt like he was losing the track of time. Was it a minute ago that he realized he couldn't move? No it mus have been almost an hour by then. Nah, it couldn't be.
Then Mark realized something horrifying. Not only was no one coming up to help him, they began to stop in front of him and just look at him, as if he was just another...
Did he turn into a fucking statue?! That terrifying thought seeped deep into his mind wreaking havoc along the way. How could this have happened? Magic? But magic wasn't real! That was impossible, this was a dream, for sure! He tried to move his body even a little bit, but again he failed every time. He desperately tried to force his hand to move so that he could pinch himself and wake up from this terrifying nightmare. But no part of his arm changed position, not even an inch.
A larger group of tourists, mostly retirees, led by a young woman slowly moved through the exhibition space and passed by Mark, who continued to struggle and try to move.
"Huh, the guide didn't say anything about this one. Did that lovely lady talk about this soldier, Harold?" An elderly couple stopped in front of Mark and they stood there and admired him for a moment.
"No, Mary, I'm pretty sure I'd remember" The man, Harold, took a step closer towards the statue.
"Harold!" The woman shouted at him. "You can't walk up too close to the sculptures dear."
"Oh, calm down" Harold responded, slightly annoyed at his wife's comment. "I'm in an art museum so don't tell me to not look at the art." The older man stood just a few steps away from Mark. "There's no plaque or rope or anything, this is a free country, Mary!" He was a few inches shorter than Mark, so he couldn't clearly see everything but it seemed he was just looking at Mark's gear.
"Look. The artist — that Gary what's-his-name — knew what he was doing with this one. I recognize all that gear this man is wearing. Nice work." Harold's tone of voice suggested he was weirdly pleased with the statue that used to be Mark. "This is what a real man's supposed to look like. Not some sissy sitting behind the desk all day."
"Of course Harold, of course" The woman walked up to her husband and put her arm around him, then started gently pushing him towards the other statues.
Mark's brain struggled to comprehend what he had just witnessed. He had really turned into a statue! People thought he was a part of the exhibit! How could this have happened? He couldn't come up with any even remotely plausible explanation for what he was experiencing. He then thought that his only hope would be his friends - they knew he was downtown, maybe some would guess that he used the opportunity to get into the art museum for free, which would lead them to the place where Mark was currently stranded.
The group of retirees came back, walked next to Mark and was about to leave the room when the tour guide looked at him and murmured to herself.
"This statue was not a part of the exhibit. How did it get here?" She grabbed her phone and quickly led her group towards the rest of the museum.
Mark again realized he couldn't tell how much time had passed since any of the recent events. It was as if his internal clock had stopped working, ran out of batteries. This whole experience was so confusing that he had issues fully registering everything. He tried counting in his head, but got lost after 20, maybe? The only thing he was sure of, for now, was that the day had not yet ended, but he could not tell what part of the day it was, as the whole museum was constantly lit with this slightly weird diffused lighting.
Three people suddenly came into view and stood some distance away from Mark, clearly looking at him. He couldn't hear the conversation they were having because of the noise from surrounding visitors, but he could clearly see that they were all agitated, talking over each other and aggressively pointing at themselves and Mark. As he looked closer he realized they were all museum employees, meaning they were probably debating what to do with a statue which has suddenly appeared within the premises of the musem they worked for, a rather uncommon occurrence.
Not long after they left Mark's view and he was once again stuck in this feeling ot timelessness. Tourists stopped in front of him every now and then, looked at him for a moment and moved on, while he stood still, holding the gun in his hands as if ready to fight, and yet incapable of it because of some indescribable force.
The employees from before came back, one of them holding in their hands a metal stand of come kind. It had something written on it at the top, but Mark couldn't see what it was. What he could see was the employee putting the stand in front of him and them all looking at it.
"That will have to do for now" One of them said. This time they were standing closer and Mark was able to hear what they were saying.
"Yeah, I won't be able to make a proper one until tomorrow."
"Okay, but it has to be there by Monday afternoon, otherwise we're fucked. Jesus Christ, still'can't believe this happened."
"No time for moaning, Jacob. We have work to do." Another one replied. They all nodded their heads, took one last look at the stand and quickly left the scene.
Mark thought about what he had just witnessed, and it took him a moment to understand - this was a stand with information about the statue, which meant him. It was the same kind as dozens more throughout the museum that visitors could look at for further information that was meant to enrich their experiences. This was meant to hide the fact that he was not here just mere hours, or minutes, or days, or-- he was certainly not here when the exhibition was opened. That fact was probably what had made them so angry and confused before - from their perspective a random statue of a soldier randomly appeared in the museum.
His mind immediately asked one question - I wonder what did they write on there? What was his title, his author, his artistic description or statement? Wait, his author? That was a strange line of thought, Mark realized.
I am Uncontrolled Power.
Wait, what was that? Who said that? Where was that deep voice coming from?
I was created by Greg Duchaime Arreman.
Was there someone standing behind him?
I am meant to represent unchecked aggression and power of the Military Industrial Complex.
Wait a second, what this voice inside his head?
I am the physical manifestation of toxic masculinity and bravado.
Holy fuck, this was a voice inside his head. Was this... what they had written about him on this stand?
Fuck yeah, I'm an alpha who follows orders and crushes any sign of disloyalty.
The voice was talking to Mark. Shit, the voice was talking to him! What the fuck?
You scum, get ready to experience the primal, animalistic force of a toxic man! I'm gonna crush you!
Mark wanted to sigh loudly, but of course he couldn't. Great, the museum employees with their great art wisdom made him a stereotypical aggressive soldier. Obedient muscle. The armored tool of American imperialism. And this soldier character seemed to have appeared inside his head.
I am here to blindly follow orders, enforce them and show everyone what masculinity really means!
If Mark could have rolled his eyes, he would. He was stuck, like an NPC frozen mid-frame, standing in the middle of an art museum, possibly forever. And from now on he would represent toxic masculinity, aggression and military prowess.
Whoever stands in my way will be violently crushed with the power of the American Military and my primal force! Toxic and proud, that's who I am!
Hi I'm a long time lurker on the platform and have been reading TF stories for quite a while.
Ever since Tumblr started cracking down and seeing my favorite blogs disappearing left and right I've started archiving some of my favorite posts.
I'll be reposting some stories from my archive. There's some stories that I can not find the original post nor author for so please help me with finding them!
Stories (author unknown):
A day at the beach
Aronik
Body to brag
Civilian Casualties
Taller and Stronger
Stories (author deactivated)
3TH93USA [dumb-and-jocked]
Admirable Confidence [makingrealalphas]
A Gamer's Paradise [paradisetf]
Alpha Orders [dumb-and-jocked]
Ape boy [realhankmccoy]
Aware Wolf [realhankmccoy]
Ball Practice [time-to-transform]
Be of Service [dumb-and-jocked]
Becoming Bryce [newyoutf]
Bitten by the Country Bug [makingrealalphas]
Booty Text [dumb-and-jocked]
Branded [dumb-and-jocked]
Bro-Job [dumb-and-jocked]
Bro Switch [grandwagonranchmaker]
Chronivac Coworkers [davidrodge]
Cop Out [newyoutf]
Drawn [breedertfs]
Everything has a price [makingrealalphas]
For a better life [makingrealalphas]
Gearing Up! [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Gnarly Tides [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Good Game [dumb-and-jocked]
Gym Goggles [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Here's to 28! [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter One [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Two [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Three [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Four [dumb-and-jocked]
Identity Death [dumb-and-jocked]
I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro [realhankmccoy]
Josh [dumbbro]
Kenny's Uniform [makingrealalphas]
Level Up! [themuscleparadise]
Listen Up: All-American [newyoutf]
Listen Up: Swimmer [newyoutf]
Modulated [realhankmccoy]
Protocol 69 [dumb-and-jocked]
Purgatory [realhankmccoy]
Red Wave [dumb-and-jocked]
Set Free [breedertfs]
Swapsidite stone [dumb-and-jocked]
Swimming Confidence [ZacharyEverlust]
The Bald Bug [dumb-and-jocked]
The Driver: Richard [dumbmusclejockboi]
The New Frat Part 1 [newyoutf]
The New Frat Part 2 [newyoutf]
The Pence Protocol [realhankmccoy]
The Trump Trail [realhankmccoy]
The Interviews [dumb-and-jocked]
Totally Normal [dumb-and-jocked]
White Hat [grandwagonranchmaker]
Unseen Self [brounderconstruction]
Untitled 1 [realhankmccoy]
Untitled 2 [realhankmccoy]
Story index:
TheBurdenBorne
Breedertfs/Hogtfs/Shapedbydesire
If you are the writer of any of these stories and you want them deleted please let me know.
Reposted with explicit permission:
Barbarian Dungeon [cinaedefuri]
Removed on request of author:
Ancestral roots [@king-craftsman]
Briefs make a jock [@king-craftsman]
Cody Christian [@king-craftsman]
New Cologne [@king-craftsman]
Officer Davies [@king-craftsman]
Strange Oil [@king-craftsman]
Nanites [@cinaedefuri2]
Original creations:
The Rings: Jake [me]
Fighters Paradise [me]
Geared Up [me]
Do you have what it takes? [me]
Massive & Mindless [me]
--- Originally posted on 2024-06-29 by breedertfs ---
--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---
I find myself getting drawn to your stories more and more often, it's scary! It's like I go into a trance anytime I'm horny and find my way to your blog
It’s almost like that’s my goal, bro.
All guys need a strong, masculine presence in their life. Someone who will guide them and mold them, and I can tell this is attracting you. Do you want someone to talk about what a big, powerful, bad mannered straight man you are? Did your parents fail to set you down the path that now excites you to no end? It’s not your fault, it’s not even theirs.
Sometimes, life isn’t able to give us the tools to become the men we want so badly to be. Maybe you’re a little heavier than the average, maybe you’re too delicate, but something in your upbringing has set you apart from the men that are making you shove your hand down your shorts, stroking your shaft to mental image of musk and muscle and douchebag behavior.
If it sounds so appealing, that’s because your deeper being is begging you to realize this is what you want. It makes you so hard, huh? When I describe a thin guy’s shoulders spreading outwards, broad and strong with bouncing pecs. Beefy arms, tree trunk legs, thick beards reeking of dried pussy juice. The men I specialize in are a special breed, the elite. Of course you’re attracted to them, of course your little brain goes fuzzy and dizzy when you start to jerk it to the idea of a fag becoming a conservative, straight man.
Your cock throbs in your hand, each jerk like a flash in your mind, urging you to look through the illusion you’ve created and see the truth. You get so turned on by these stories because you wish it would happen to you, as if these changes need any magic. Imagine a beautiful woman cupping her fat tits, her slender fingers squeezing her nipples, her body jiggling and shivering with pleasure.
If the idea of sliding your fat cock between her boobs excites you, thrusting until your seed coats her bimbo face, then I’m sorry to tell you, my friend: you’re a straight man. And your body, your former values, are clouding your former rationality and urging you to recognize the kind of man you should allow yourself to become. Just stop taking everything so seriously, allow your thoughts to slow, stop worrying about manners and woke views.
Just think about those huge tits, bro. Think about a squirting pussy, imagine your thick tongue sliding up and down her folds, plunging into her. Imagine your strong hands on her tiny waist, your own stubble on your chiseled jaw growing slick with sweat and juices. Lick your lip, listen to yourself growl, your voice is low and powerful and so demanding. This isn’t a story, this isn’t a wish gone wrong, this is a human male realizing how badly he wants to be a traditional man. No more holding in your farts or belches, no more caring about people’a opinions, no more seeing this woman as anything more than a sex toy to blow your load into. She’s not wife material, brah, but that doesn’t mean she’s not ready to be a mother. Women should know your place like you know yours.
Your bones crack and shift, your expression turns to a sneer, your smile is always so cocky. You are thick with muscle, a cloud of body odor lingering around your glorious muscles, and your fat nine incher is already oozing pre. This is the life you want, the version of you that you want so desperately to take the steering wheel. So let him, bro, let that lustful trance take you where you need to go. Hit the gym, change your political opinions, accept that your cock wants to be deep inside a warm, wet cunt.
Don’t wait for magic, my bro.
There’s nothing more magical than a man who knows his place: and you’re never going to forget where you stand. At the top of the ladder, biceps flexed and your grin smug. Lesser men will wish to be like you, fags are gonna jerk it to your pictures. You just focus on the finer things in life. Sports, cigars, letting your nasty habits be heard and smelled.
Like pulling that blonde bimbo closer, your huge cock thrusting inside her slick folds, her silicone filled tits jiggling from the force. She moans, and you echo the sound with a low growl. You’ll never need to stroke your cock again to my stories — knowing you’ll never run out of fresh, tight pussy to ruin.
Let the trance win, brother. Let the better version of you free.
--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---
I felt a little awkward waiting on the steps, but I had rung the doorbell and their was no turning back. My previous landlord had given me a few days to find a new place, but he wanted me out of the building as soon as possible. Half way through the semester, this was one of the only places still advertising. This neighborhood wasn't my typical crowd, but I would learn to adjust. "As long as I make the rent payments, they shouldn't care about anything else," I told myself.
The man who opened the door was wearing nothing but his boxers and was holding a bowl of cereal. Even though it was afternoon, it looked like he had just woken up. "Hey," I said, trying to look him in the eye rather than his tight abs and pecs, "I'm here about the open room. You're looking for a roommate, right?"
"Yeah, man. Come on in," he said. He shut the door behind me and walked towards the kitchen. "I'm the only one around right now, but let me show you the place. This is the kitchen..."
The place was a total dump, but that was understandable with a group of college guys.
"My name is Chris," he said as he set down his bowl. He picked up a black tank top off a chair and pulled it over his head and every muscle in his torso seemed to flex as it fit into place. "Let me show you your room."
"I haven't even signed any paperwork or anything," I said as we walked up the stairs.
"Don't worry about it, bro. Things are really relaxed around here," he responded. He opened the door and showed me my room. The walls were covered with posters, mostly pictures of cars and motorcycles, and a flag with our school mascot. On the floor was a pile of clothes, a frisbee, and a football. The desk had a few empty beer bottles, but also a nice laptop.
"Does someone still live here," I asked. "I thought it would be emptied out."
"Nah, he just left this behind. Make yourself at home. We can clear it out later," Chris said, taking my bag and throwing it on the bed. I wanted to stop him, but something inside me convinced me otherwise.
We stepped back out into the hallway. "Here's the bathroom and shower."
At that moment, I suddenly realized I had to take a piss. I felt awkward asking, but said, "Can I use it now? Sorry, but I really have to piss!"
Chris laughed. "Sure dude. I'm be in the kitchen making some lunch. You can stay if you want."
"Thanks," I said as he started downstairs. The bathroom was small but had a big mirror and tiled walls all around. As I stepped in front of the mirror, I realized how out of place I would be in this house. Chris was probably six feet tall and built like a bodybuilder. I was only 5'4" and had grown pretty chubby over the years. I wasn't obese, but definitely had a gut, flabby arms, and pudgy face. I walked over to the toilet and knocked over a green baseball hat sitting on the rim of the shower tub. I left it sit on the floor, turned, started unbuttoning my pants. As I finished pissing, I felt a shudder run through my body, like an electric shock. My jeans suddenly fell to my ankles. My shirt starting feeling tight and uncomfortable. I felt my forehead and realized I was sweating profusely. My t-shirt was already drenched and I clumsily pulled it over my head.
Behind me, I heard the shower running. I though to myself, "Was it always running or did it just turn on?" Steam had begun to fill the room and I began breathing deeply. The smell of body wash and cologne drowned my nostrils. I pulled down my boxers and realized my cock was fully erect. It swung heavily from side to side, much larger than I had ever seen it. The mirror was white with steam, but I had a feeling that my body was somehow transforming. I stepped into the shower and let out a deep sigh as the water washed over me. With every passing second, I felt my mind relax and my worries wash down the drain. I grabbed a wash rag, some body wash, and started lathering myself up. As my hands passed over my body, I felt invigorated and full of energy. New muscles flexed beneath the washrag. My hairy chest and arms were smooth and taught. I felt taller and more confident.
I turned off the shower. Wiped the mirror with a towel and looked at my new body. I grabbed the green hat off the floor and put it on my head. In my mind, I felt a surge of memories wash over me. I put on some clothes that were scattered on the floor. And headed back downstairs.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Chris greeted me as if nothing had happened. "Glad to see you're all settled in. Want some lunch?"
"Thanks man," I replied.
Great mental change/hypnosis story.
Original post is dead. Use the "Keep reading" provided by @imsrtman to read the rest.
God, I ached all over. You’d think that a first workout at the gym wouldn’t hurt so much the day after. It felt like I’d slept in a pretzel position, and my head was pounding. All I wanted to do was shed a few pounds from my overweight frame, and it looked like I had my work cut out from me.
I craned my neck, it was so sore. It had to be super early in the morning, my alarm hadn’t gone off. But as my alertness set in for the day, I realized the ceiling light was on.
Why had I slept with the ceiling light on? I bolted upright, which led to some pain and stiffness, but I disregarded it as I looked around the room. Which was definitely not my room. It maybe wasn’t anyone’s room, the walls were all gray and boring, save for a mirror on the wall. Also strange is that there wasn’t a door.
Naturally, being abducted I started to freak out. What the hell was going on? My fears started spinning around my head. I wasn’t sore because of working out, I was sore because I was abducted! I fervently looked around the room for any escape, trying to evaluate my situation.
Dumb jocks don’t panic.
What? Where did that come from? There was no speaker, and I didn’t hear anything out loud.
Dumb jocks don’t panic.
Keep reading
He looked into mirror, starring intently at his reflection and said it, practically as a whisper “bro”
He shuddered violently, instantly experiencing such an intense wave of nausea he had to hold on to the sink to prevent himself from passing out.
He tried to catch his breath and looked back up at his reflection intently. Nothing seemed to have changed except for maybe his rigid posture and the determination in his eyes. Of course his body was going to resist. He was going against everything he was and thought he wanted to be for so long.
But that was about to change. His best friend went though it, the guy he had a crush on most of his life but dared not say it… now he was something completely different, something they used to despite. He felt a flicker of it inside him already, ready to grow. He gripped the sink harder this time and said it again… “bro”
It was easier and more obvious this time as he kept his eyes locked on his reflection. Same wave of nausea, but the body shiver was accompanied by something more, a new wave of golden color to his skin, a clearing of his complexion, dissolving of a layer of fat. He watched as he gained a few inches in height and waist rose to sink level. He already looked so much better. But he had to commit. No turning back now. “bro”
Less nausea more pleasure this time as everything about him became larger. The facial changes were even more dramatic compared to the subtle differences before- jawline, full lips, thin eyebrows and growing full curly head of hair. Noticing the changes was accompanied by a new rush and swell in confidence not just muscle. This wasn’t a feeling he was used to when seeing himself naked, but here he was hot and beautiful and the high just made his head numb with bliss and pleasure. This was it. He was becoming one. A “bro”
Now his voice sounded deeper. Still gripping the sink he see his arms flex and pump with new muscle. Everything about him screamed gym rat, jock, no- look at that ass swell- fuckboy. Yeah. That was more like it. His waist was well above the sink now, just hiding the monster member growing below. Fuck it felt good. The empty head made so much sense now with all the urges and hunger pumping through his veins. Hell yeah. No goin back. He wanted to flex, he wanted to lift, he wanted to fuck. But first. Looking into the mirror. Thirsting at everything he was becoming. He smirked and said… “bro”
Three men in lab coats walk into a dimly lit room. Three additional men in military uniforms, decorated with medals, are already seated at one end of a long table. One of the coats speak up. "Generals I'm glad you could all make it." "How is Project Alpha coming along?" the military man in the center chirps. "Oh it was a resounding success, our subject Brian, exhibited muscular hypertrophy far beyond initial projections. The only unexpected complication was a hypertrophy of the genitals and marked increase in libido, but we're already investigation mitigation strategies." The three generals murmur among themselves for a short while, looking over the papers infront of them. "Excellent, these numbers look very good... Are these the subjects for the next project? ."
"Ah yes" the coat in the corner replies, "Subjects Z and W are social media and fitness stars, ensuring a rigorous test of the accuracy of the procedure. " "Good, begin work on Project Chameleon. "
I wake up to the smell of coffee coming from my bedside table. "Hmmm my bro must of made some for me. Dam he's such a good brah!" I roll over to pick it up but my body feels funny, lighter maybe. Probably just a side affect of the drug trail me and my best friend and roommate decided to participate in. I mean $10,000 to get injected with some experimental drug? Why not!? There was alot of paper work and contracts we had to sign but I mean 10k!
Still half asleep I pick up the steaming cup and take a sip. The brown brew waking me up from my grog. "Man this must be good stuff, I already feel so energized! Idk if I've ever felt this good!"
I hear clanking from the kitchen.
"BRO!! You making breakfast?" hmm was my voice always that deep?
-"Heck yeah brah! Come get some! Got a nice sausage just for you! "
Was his voice deeper too! ? My ears must be stuffed up or something.
I finally sit up, put on my glasses and pick up my coffee to get out of bed. I walk by my wardrobe mirror and I almost drop the cup from shock.
Immediately I'm stunned, my previous average body was now anything but. Nothing but tight, thick muscle under perfectly tanned skin. A six pack where once it was flab, arms as thick as my legs once were.
Even my face, once the mug of a man who would blend into any crowd, was not that of one of the top models. Not blemish anywhere and a jaw that could cut diamonds.
"Fuck..." was all I could say as I felt and flex each of my new muscles.
Even my underwear was changed, going from ugly old loose boxers, to a pair of sexy tight Calvin's. I could ever feel that my package was now so massive, it felt like it would rip thought the my new underwear.
"Oh fuck, what's my bro gonna think!?" as I dart into the kitchen.
What the fuck! My best bro and roommate was now almost an exact copy of myself, all the muscle, all the looks. We were like twins. He hears me enter and turns around.
His new massive cock hangs out from his jeans, nowhere near hard but already a thick 9 inches long.
-"Sup brah! You ready for some sausage?" he says as his cock begins to harden and grow. It was now a rock hard 13 inch fuck stick, and already dripping with pre.
The sight of my twin alpha God got me rock hard as well, my own giant cock presses painfully against my tight underwear. The fabric quickly loosing the power of my new dick, and tearing, revealing my own 13 inch horse cock.
"What the fuck bro!? What happened to us."
- "Don't know brah. But I think I'm called Wyatt now and your called Zach"
Yeah, Zach... Zach... And my twin bro Wyatt. That's us bro. Two alpha as fuck sick cuntz. Showing off and filling holes with our cum everywhere we go. The knowledge of these strangers suddenly filling my head.
- "So we gonna have breakfast or what?"
Wyatt's rock hard cock was now dripping with full on cum, as was my own.
With our new enhanced bodies, we fucked for hours. Each time we came, it only seemed to make our libido even stronger. The small shared apartment we shared was soon covered in a thick layer of our cum, the smell of testosterone filling the air.
-"Bro, that was so fucking good. But my cock is still rock hard."
Suddenly, an intense urge to show off and be seen comes reflexively.
"Brah, let's head out and get some new followers and pic for the 'gram huhu"
We both put on a pair of boxers to cover our raging boners, and headed out. Immediately we were getting stares and tones of attention. A few people even came involuntarily as they saw us walking down the street and catching a whiff of our superior pheromones.
Once an a while, a cute guy would walk by and catch our eye. Our horse cocks snaking down our legs, already dripping and bulging clearly in our skimpy underwear, was all that we needed to say. They would soon be continuing on their way, now with 2 gallons of our cum inside them.
We soon saw a cute guy coming from the local gym who couldn't keep his eyes off us, and we both knew he would be a great cum dump for the night. A simple "Sup" and he was ours, but not before snapping a pic for the likes.
This author also went by the following names:
Hogtfs
Shapedbydesire
Stories:
A Bad Wet Dream
A better ride
A better son
Arabian Nectar
Drawn
Better use of a twink
Born to Breed
Born to be a father
Chet
Don't be a queer, be a breeder
Frat Boy Fantasy
OnlyWishes
Put a sock in it
Set free
Shady Unit
Stop babe
Stud Pride
What You Desire
Taboo
That Wish Stinks
Thrift Shift: Camo Hat
This post will be updated this week as I reposted/reblogged more stories.
Thanks a lot for the crazy amount of support for my first story!
I hope you all had as much fun reading as I had writing it.
For those interested a new batch of archived stories will be posted the coming week!
--- First time writing my own story ---
--- Please let me know what you think ---
Just before the second year of college rolled around I was met with the unfortunate news that my best bro, my roommate, would not be making it to the second year.
Turned out he'd been spending too much time partying, and too little studying. Not even the coach could save him anymore.
Sure, being on a sports scholarship meant studying isn't your main priority but you still had to maintain your grades somewhat if you want to make it to the next year.
To make things worse, my new roommate turned out be some nerd.
Jacob was your average nerd that would be holed up in his room most of the time.
He didn't really bother me. It's just... I had hoped to have a new bro to go to the gym with instead of some wimpy kid.
Color me surprised when the guy came out of his room out of nowhere to ask me to help him some project he was doing for some course.
Something about trying some "telepathy" gear he was working on he was working on for a biomed class.
To be honest it all sounded really like some science mumbo jumbo to me. I must admit I wasn't too excited so I thought I'd struck a deal instead: he'd tutor me for my calc class and I'd try his stupid gear thing.
He seemed happy with the proposal and told me it'd be ready for testing in a couple days.
--
As I stepped out of the bathroom after just taking a shower I was met by Jacob holding two comically large rings which almost looked like miniature hula hoops.
It had been a week since he'd asked me for the favor. To be honest, I'd already forgotten about our agreement.
Though I was a man of my word and did need some help with calc, not wanting to end up like my old buddy.
He signaled for me to sit on the couch as he started to explain all about his new gadget.
Supposedly, the pair of rings were some new technology he was working on. He explained that it allowed the wearers to communicate with each other as if the other person was simply a voice in their head.
I accepted one of the nearly metal rings, the only discernable difference being a smaller engraved letter T on the side indicating that I would be on the receiving end according to Jacob.
Not thinking much of it, I held it over my head as he instructed.
As I pressed the button on the side of the device it quickly shrank, tightly sealing itself on my head.
Jacob, doing the same, had grabbed a small little tablet whilst the ring sealed itself on his head.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's get this over with" I replied back.
A large shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he pressed a button on the ring.
"You jocks are real dumbasses, you know. Should've been more skep--" the nerd started saying before he suddenly stopped.
The twig had frozen right in his tracks. He looked as if his soul had left his body.
Testing if he was actually there, I waved my hand in front of his face.
Nothing.
Huh? What the fuck?
Okay, this is kinda weird.
I need to get rid of this ring.
It didn't budge. Not only that, this shitty thing just zapped me as well.
Hmm, think. The nerd mentioned something about telepathy, right?
Hey nerd, you hear me?
No response. Fuck.
I'm gonna look like some freak with this stupid headband there has to be something...
Maybe I should just try the telepathy again.
Hey Jacob, say something!
In an almost comical fashion what seemed like a corpse just uttered one word.
"something"
You've gotta be kidding me.
Uh, let's try something else.
Jacob, jump!
Without skipping a beat he jumped.
This is kinda awesome...
Jacob, explain what your plans were with these rings
"My intention was to use these rings to transform you into a nerd as well as do something other things..."
Explain what you mean with transform
"These rings are a technology I devloped that allows you to transform your target however you like by giving suggestions"
Heh. So, if I told him to grow a pair that would work?
As expected the nerd briefly twitched before a visible bulge started forming.
The Jacob's bulge wasn't the only thing growning larger in the room.
I noticed that my dick started to chub up as well, fueled by this new power I had just obtained.
I realized that with these rings I could do anything.
I could still get the roommate I wanted. And I could make him however I wanted.
--
Time to get to work.
Strip
The pudgy nerd took care of undressing, now showcasing his unimpressive body.
I could not help but feel pity for the guy.
He lacked any muscle definition. The only thing he had going for him was his now bull-sized nuts that looked mismatched compared to the rest of his body.
I should at least give him an appropriate cock to match.
Jacob, add a couple more inches to your cock
His average 5 incher started growing rapidly, reaching a monsterous size of what looked to be 8 inches.
I circled around him, proud of my work while I looked for the next area of improvement.
To be honest, there was a lot of work to be done. Maybe a rough approach would be better.
Adjust your body fat percentage to 7%
His already slim frame now became quite boney.
Add 40 lbs of muscle mass
The same arms that once lacked any muscle mass now had biceps that would rival an amateur body builder.
Veins also started bulging out, running from his large mitts upto his biceps.
The changes didn't stop there, however.
A pair of meat slabs started to form on his chest as well.
Unable to resist, I snuck up behind Jacob to fondle his newly formed pecs whilst also admiring his growing traps.
My hand went slipped down further, sliding into the deep crevasse formed by his 6-pack abs.
It seemed that Jacob hadn't missed leg day either. His legs now looked more like tree trunks that would be easily able to squash a watermelon.
To make the picture complete Jacob's feet had to match as well.
You've always worn a size 13
His feet grew large and veins appeared, much like what had happened to his previously tiny hands.
You've always prefered to keep your hair in a quiff
Jacob's unruly mop had started to style itself in a trendy quiff.
Now, flex for me
Jacob now struck a double bicep pose, his already large biceps forming sizeable peaks.
----
"You mentioned something about jocks and being a real dumbasses didn't you, Jacob?"
Ah, wait.
You will wake up
"Huh, what... Why do I feel heavy..." Jacob murmured before realizing it was caused by his new physique.
"Wait! No. You were supposed to get the receiver not the transmitter! How did I- argh" Jacob said fully grasping the situation now.
"I don't want to be some dumb brute!" Jacob told me, now reaching for the ring.
Don't move
Without missing a beat Jacob froze right in his tracks.
"What are you planning to do to me, you stupid jock?" he asked.
"Stupid jock, huh" I mocked.
"It's funny you say that because right now you look more like a jock than me." I told him.
"Perhaps you just don't think like one... yet" I snarked.
"I remember you said something before. Something about jocks being real dumbasses?"
"Wait no! Please-"
You've always been a dumb
"I- uh.. Hng.. What did I say again...?"
"A real jock wouldn't go by a nerdy name like Jacob, now would he?"
You have always been called Jake
"Bro, I don't know who the fuck you're talking about."
"Ah, nothing to worry about bro" I reassured him.
You only care about is lifting weights and partying. You never bothered with studying.
Oh, and you may move again
"So bro, what's up what are we doing here? We should go to the gym." He asked me, completely oblivious as what happened not even minutes earlier.
"You dumbass, we just got back from the gym." I told him.
"Oh, huhuh, sorry bro, I guess I forgot haha" he replied.
When I call you by the nickname brute, you will obey my instructions, no matter what I tell you
"Hey Brute, won't you help me with getting these rings off?" I ask.
"Of course, anything for you bro" he replied.
A bro is never afraid of a little bromance
A little fire in his eyes lit up.
"So bro, what do I need to do?" he asked.
"On the count on three, we both press the button on the side of the ring. I think that's the only way to get them off" I explained.
"Ready?" I asked.
3.. 2... 1..
I immediately felt relief as the tight ring was now removed from my head.
"Brute, give that ring to me. You never want to touch that ring again. You know big bro will handle it for you" I instruct Jake.
"Here you go, bro" he said handing the ring.
I put the rings on the nearby coffee table.
I was happy. I now got myself the perfect roommate. And, if I needed it I could give additional to my brute.
"Hey Jake, there's a party tonight. You wanna go?" I asked him.
"Of course bro, always down"
"Before that, I've got to ask something" I said, sitting back down on the couch.
"I need a little help with something" I smirked, turned on by all the effort put in transforming my roommate
My dick had become rock hard and was begging for attention.
"You think you can help a bro out?"
If you had one word - just one word - to describe yourself, what word would you use?
Man, that’s a tough one, bro, I dunno. I guess alot of my friends would say I’m a typical bro, you know, I like all the bro things that bros do, I kinda bro out alot, especially since I met him, yknow? Even though it don’t really feel like it’s only since I met him, it’s more like it’s been happening in slow motion for my whole life, if that makes any sense, you know? Like a sleeper thing, like it was asleep in me, and just like, woke up, sorta, when I met my bro. So I guess I’d say bro, that’d be a good word to describe me, cuz it doesn’t only describe me but it describes my bro too. Two halfs, one whole. You dig?
Okay, sure. I’m not really sure I - exactly follow your train of thought, but okay. Next question. With whom in your life would you say you are closest? It could be a roommate, or a –
That’s a easy one! Totally my bro. We do fuckin everything together. We even share clothes. Work out together, climb shit together, go hiking, play ball - football, baseball, basketball. He says he’s gonna teach me how to skate, too, so we can even play hockey together. How fuckin sweet is that? We’re gettin big together, like crazy. Already pretty ripped. Been takin these awesome supps that my bro gave me. You outta try em, bro. You work out?
I, sure, yeah. Go to the gym. Not real regular, but I work out some. But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.
Oh yeah. I forgot again. Just sayin, bro, you could probly use some of these awesome supps. You look like you could be pretty big. If you wanted to, yknow.
Have you always been such a workout junkie?
Huhuhuhuh workout junkie. That’s a funny way to put it, bro. Dya mind if I call you bro, bro? I guess I just kinda call everyone bro now. Huhuh, even chicks. It’s cool though.
So …
Uh, sorry bro. What was the question again?
Have you always been such a … uh - did you always, yknow. Uh, workout. Alot. I mean, your guns are fuckin huge.
Fuck yeah, right? Look even better when I flex. Been workin the bis extra hard lately with bro. See?
Wow. Fuck. That’s, uh, yeah. Fuck.
Yeah bro! Uh, you sportin a little wood there, bro, huhuh, you like what you see? Yeah, it’s cool, bro. You wanna just kinda stick your hand in your shorts and mess around a bit, that’s cool, bro. How ya feelin?
Uhhhh … fuck … good, bro … real fuckin good …
Fuck yeah bro! Maybe you can come workout with me an my bro sometime, shape up your guns. Hey, so what’d you say you were interviewin me for anyway?
Uh, the school … paper. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Your friends, they wanted to know … fuck …. where you’d gone …
Yeah, bro. Uh, what friends? What paper?
Yeah … what friends. What paper.
Yeah bro! Hey, I got a hat for you. It’s just like the one my bro gave me when I met my bro. It’s cool, right?
Fuck yeah …
Says “REBORN.”
Reborn, bro.
Fuck yeah!
--- Originally posted on 2024-07-10 by breedertfs ---
--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---
That, that last post, fuck, those pics of the guy with his girl, I feel they flipped a switch in my brain.
And that switch will never be flipped back down.
Your cock is gonna be hard forever now, throbbing and aching for some slick pussy. Aren’t chicks so fucking hot? Don’t you love the idea of a sexy bimbo sitting in your lap, running her hands over your powerful muscles? You deserve to be worshipped. Imagine your cock resting against her pussy slit, her whiny moans as she grinds against you like a bitch in heat. When your big hands close around her fat ass, she’s gonna feel so soft and good. That will pale in comparison to the feeling of her huge breasts filling your palms, your fingertips squeezing her squirting nipples.
Now that you want this, there’s no going back. Go be a good straight boy and jerk it to some lesbian porn.
You’ll have a woman of your own in your bed before long. Make it reality, bro. Don’t be a queer, be a breeder.