Latest Posts by user211201 - Page 5

Regenerating Face

Regenerating circulatory system…

The computer voice told me what is about to happen. I feel a fuzzy tingling surge through my aged veins and arteries, and my heartbeat gets stronger.

Regenerating nervous system…

The computer voice speaks again. I blink, as if waking from a long nap, fresh and alert.

Regenerating skeletal system… 

It’s a good thing the computer adjusts my sensations to manage the pain. My legs and arms shoot out from me, my spine stretches, my shoulders inch further and further from my ears.

Regenerating skin…

Instantly, my old, sallow, wrinkled skin splits and peels, and youthful, fresh, darkly-tanned skin emerges from beneath.

Regenerating musculature…

I wince as pound after pound of muscle is stitched onto my frame, feeling unfathomable strength boil and blister on my body. I am not believing what I am experiencing. I flick my eyes to the mirror, my aged and grizzled visage has a look of surprise in the midst of the young bodybuilder I seem to be becoming.

Regenerating biography…

Suddenly I’m flushed with memories of growing up on ranch south of San Angelo. Breaking horses with the ranch hands. Sleeping in the hayloft with my older cousins. Becoming prom king in high school, and playing college football for the Longhorns. Coming out of the closet.

Releasing constraints.

New profile running.

Regenerating face.

An interesting request from me. What if a straight man wishes to become Chris Evans because he wants the attention from girls. Well instead he becomes Kris Evans and he doesn’t notice until he is completely Kris and love the attention from men.

(Check out the full, NSFW version of this story HERE!)

Who doesn’t want to be Chris Evans?

Stellar career, great body, super nice guy, dog lover, and, by all accounts, a total chick magnet.

But nobody wanted to be Chris more than Blake. He was everything Chris wasn’t: unattractive, untalented, unsuccessful, and terrible with people (especially women).

So when Blake got his hands one one of those rare changing stones—ancient magical rocks with the power to transform the user into whomever's name they wrote on the smooth granite surface—he knew exactly what name he was going to write.

Unfortunately, spelling was among one of Blake’s many deficiencies. He relied heavier on spell check than the average person. But this wasn’t Microsoft Word. The changing stone had no spell check, so whoever (or whatever) one wrote on the rock was… well… set in stone.

At first, everything seemed to go according to plan. Blake felt himself shoot up an extra nine inches in height, followed immediately by a drastic drop in size. His blubbery gut receded back into his stomach, so much so that when looked down, his feet came into view for the first time since middle school.

But the view was short lived, as only moments later, a cartoonishly large pec shelf burst forth from his chest, once again obstructing his feet.

Jesus, Blake thought to himself, I knew Chris was big, but I didn’t know he was this big…

He had no idea.

Seconds later, the rest of his muscles began to come in: big veiny biceps, eight pack abs, a broad back, boulder shoulders, and legs the size of Thanksgiving turkeys.

It was then that Blake began to realize something was wrong. Chris Evans was a celebrity, not a supermodel. This was the body of a man whose entire career was his body. A model, perhaps… or a pornstar. God, I hope I’m not turning into a pornstar.

As if in response, Blake felt a tension in his groin area. He craned his neck over his muscle tits and watched as his cock grew to an impractical 9 inches, the fleshy sheath of foreskin inching up over the head.

Thanks to that screen sharing fiasco, everyone knew that Chris Evans was cut. This was not his dick… and this was not his body.

Blake assumed that the transformation was complete. He bore about as much resemblance to his former self as he did to the actor who’s name he’d written (or thought he’d written) on the changing stone. Instead, he had transformed into a 6’4”, 203 pound boy toy with a massive joystick.

I guess it’s not the end of the world, Blake thought as he explored his new body, chicks are gonna dig these muscles!

But there was still one last change. You see, Blake didn’t just accidentally write the name of any pornstar: he had written the name of a gay pornstar, and a prolific one at that.

As Blake entered the final stage of his transition, his mind flooded with fantasies of gay sex, images of guys sucking his dick and pounding his ass.

He tried picturing the busty blonde women he’d jerked off to his entire life, but his thoughts kept wandering back towards men: big, meaty men with big, meaty cocks, filling his every hole with their hot white spunk.

“No, stop! I’m not gay,” Blake cried out in a comically deep hungarian accent, “I don’t like guys! I like girls!”

But his dick begged to differ. The harder he tried to deny his new sexuality, the harder he got, until Blake’s dick was as hard as the changing stone itself. Whether he liked it or not, this was his new destiny: to live as a gay man.

A huge, hot, muscular gay man.

“Oh…. FUUUUUCK!”

He couldn’t take it any longer. All it took was one stroke and he shot his wad all over the stone. As the pornstar’s cum soaked the surface of the rock, the hastily scribbled black ink melted away.

His transformation was complete: Blake was no more, and in his place stood the iconic gay pornstar Kris Evans.

The hunky Hungarian gave a deep belly laugh, amused by the thought that not five minutes ago, he’d been some pathetic straight dude with a dream of turning into a Hollywood celebrity. Kris couldn’t fathom wanting to be anyone other than himself. He had the body of a god, an amazing job, not to mention the pick of any guy he wanted.

Every gay guy, that is.

For a better life

--- Originally posted on 2016-07-12 by makingrealalphas ---

Well, today is officially the 366 days since the change and it has been a blast in college with all of the wrestling team celebrating Coach's birthday. And still, no one remembered Raymond Fitzgerald as International Olympic Champion in Chemistry, beating all the odds and becoming the first American teenager to win a gold medal in Chemistry in the 21st century, instead they remembered me as Ray Fitzgerald, the wrestling champion that went to college with wrestling scholarship because of his undefeated record in National Championship. Well, my brain still in here with me but I just made some "adjustment" in my physique. You know how annoying is to win a fuckin' international championship but the jocks still bullied you and your teacher still praised the jocks all the time even though there's a freakin' world champion in front of their eyes? That's why I decided to transform myself into this piece of stud that oozes nothing more except confidence and a potent musk of a real man in the making, simply for a better life

In college, I befriend with everyone but I still keep everything down low, not partying that much (still so much more than if I still myself), only fuckin' chicks with dignity and not the slutty one and make myself into the same room with the Biochem nerd that still not as smart as me, Clayton. Well, I simply don't want an overly wild college life, I just want a peaceful, bullying-free and a little bit careless college life, and well I get that by being Ray

I walked into my dorm but when I past the mirror that I set there for me checkin' myself before out from my dorm, fuck I can't resist to not see my body even though I've checked it a lot since I made myself lookin' like this

I lift my shirt that perfectly fitted and outlined my body and flashed myself my signature smirk that make all the ladies legs turned into jelly.

Well, there's no one in the dorm so being shirtless won't hurt rite? I take off my shirt, fuck it's quite tight, but it's the right clothes to use if I want to show this body for everyone's satisfaction, and fuck, it's not that defined as it should be.

Guess the season off really make me forget to work out, I think I'll workout right away next morning, need to keep this body in shape for the summer, though.

I checked my back and it's still quite the same, maybe I should put some definition in it for the summer too, so grueling back day in the gym is on the to-do list before summer

Well, enough with the checking. Hayley will be here soon and I can't wait to finally release this load after a whole clean week

Everything has a price

--- Originally posted on 2018-07-11 by makingrealalphas ---

"Just look at Ryder over there, isn't he such a hottie? Must be nice to have a boyfriend like him,"

"He's too dumb for you, Cesar. And he's straight,"

"If I'm looking just like them or working out as hard as them, I might get a chance with him,"

"But you're not. He's a mean douchebag, I don't see why you can like someone like those jocks. Their family probably not as stable and loving as yours, I mean, look at your family, they are very supportive and accept you no matter what

"You don't understand, Adrian. Imagine if you're a good looking fella, chicks and dudes will easily flock on you like sugar that attracts bunch of ants. If I'm just half as hot as him, bet I won't be this lonely gay nerd reading Hemingway or Kafka in my dorm every night. Hell, I'll go to one party after the other or spending my night in the club. And my fam? Trust me, you only see the cover,"

Adrian keep arguing and trying to knock some shit out from Cesar's brain yet Cesar didn't care with Adrian sourness as he keeps ogling the football athlete who is in the middle of their practice

or the hot dudes in the college park that they stumbled upon their way to the college dorm

Adrian is so pissed at Cesar. He believes he already give quite a strong signal to Cesar that he likes him but turned out living in the same room for 2 years straight didn't even help Cesar to realize that Adrian actually has a crush on him. Yeah he's not hot like those jocks or some sort but Adrian feels that he deserved at least some kind of recognition from his so-called best friend, because he was there when Cesar really hit the rock bottom, not those jocks that he adored. Hell they even see Cesar with such disgust because for them Cesar is just another weak gay nerd that they hated during their high school day. Two years is quite a long time for Adrian to wait but his patience is running out so he decided that it's now or never to make the move. Adrian is in quite a dilemma but he strengthened his mentality to do what he should have done since the very first meeting with Cesar, even though this means it will be the last time he can perform his magic.

As Cesar falls to his slumber, Adrian read out some old incantation that he learned. It sounds just like some kind of wild and uncoordinated speech. He watches Cesar grows bigger in his sleep as his feet manage to reach the edge of his own bed due to his lengthening leg. Other than gaining some extra length, more power grazed the leg as it grows even bigger than before, veins slowly popping around the new muscular quads. Adrian resisting the pain of the spell as more and more change happened to Cesar. Tiny hair started to grow all over his body as the changes made it way to the upper part, but not before Cesar's appendage becoming bigger and more juicy, even in the middle of the spell Adrian still manage to giggle due to the disproportionality of Cesar's body now. The change rapidly moves up as abs and pecs popping out from Cesar's soft and thin belly. He groans in his sleep because he feels somewhat disturbed but Adrian's spell is too powerful and it locks Cesar in his sleeping condition. Body hair sprouts in his now firm pecs and also a trail to his appendage as the grow now moving to the once thin arm of his. The biceps and triceps expanded quickly (and massively) as veins started pumping more blood to support the change at that area. The groan becoming so much louder and Adrian cannot help but leaked some pre, watching his friend turned into the hottest person in Adrian's mind. Trap and neck becoming thicker as the change now reach his face. It's such a painful process for Adrian to grow Cesar, bruises appeared all across his body

"A little bit more," said Adrian, determined to do it once and for all

As Cesar's face becoming stronger and more masculine, Adrian holds on Cesar's wooden bed side as he almost cannot stand up anymore and then with one last power he grab Cesar's head. Cesar's eye suddenly opened and bright light emitting from there, it's so bright, even brighter than car's headlight. His mouth also opened wide and emitting the same blinding light as Adrian eventually passed out in the middle of the process

The following morning, Adrian's wake up right in Cesar's bed side but Cesar is not in the bed anymore. His bed still messy but the bathroom is so quiet he cannot be inside the bathroom. Adrian then realizes that his hand is much more darker, it's not as dark as night but still, darker than his usual pale complexion. As he stares at his body, he gasps because the gut he has now totally gone and already transformed into massive set of abs that feels like a washboard

"Oh my, this is sweet,"

Adrian found a letter from Magic Council, the sovereign body of magician all over the world, right next to his now strong legs that contains the information that his magic license has been revoked and the last series of magic performed will be used on himself too. Oh, now that's explaining this whole condition. Thank God I didn't use my magic to kill someone or I'll be dead, he thought. Still marveling at his newly acquired face, there's a message. It's from Cesar

"Waiting for you in the gym,sleepyhead,"

Then a gif followed instantly

"Love ya," another message followed the gif

Adrian just smirked in the mirror, yeah he lost his magic but at least he lost it to get this one hot motherfucker. No, correction, two, as he is now also a hot jock, he thought to himself, ready for their morning gym session

"Will I be punished because I'm late?" Adrian asked kinkily

"Oh of course, we gonna rock the locker room after our session,"

He never pack his bag quicker than that

Cop Out

--- Originally posted on 2021-06-25 by newyoutf ---

Nick, a young, headstrong journalist, had been investigating strange goings-on at the police department for months. Odd reports of trainees at the police academy disappearing while the number of senior cops seemed to increase, and without any known source of extra funding. But his only informant, a trainee at the academy himself, soon mysteriously vanished as well. Convinced the police were covering something up, Nick felt compelled to investigate.

Before they fell off the grid, Nick's informants mentioned a company that seemed to be tied up with the disappearances - New You Industries. But despite his best efforts, the intrepid investigator couldn't find any reference to such a business ever having existed. The last he heard from his mole was that a shipment was due to arrive at the police training academy in a week.

And so, seven days later, Nick found himself staking out the storage garage of the academy in the dead of night. From a long distance in the safety of his car, he snapped pictures of a man getting out of an unmarked car and handing three small boxes to someone Nick recognized the city's police chief, Chief Barrow. But this evidence was meaningless without knowing what the shipment contained.

He waited patiently for all parties to depart and snuck up on the garage, snapping the lock with bolt cutters and using his camera's flash to illuminate the pitch-black room. Nick was dismayed to find two police badges sitting on the shelf, along with three boxes, now empty.

"Did I just stake out a shipment of police badges?" Nick muttered to himself. He jumped back in fright as the lights were suddenly switched on.

"C-Chief Barrow?" Nick stammered as he turned to see the police chief standing next to the light switch.

"You think we didn't know you'd been following us?" he growled as he stepped toward Nick.

"What happened to the students?! Did you kill them?!" Nick yelled as if to try and bolster himself against the fear he was currently experiencing.

The police chief stopped in his tracks and made a sly expression, "They're not dead. They're in the station, working."

"W-what?" Nick replied with the same look of bewilderment, "I-I was told students were vanishing from the academy?"

"They got - how should I say this - fast-tracked through the program," Barrow responded with a smirk, "You're about to find how. Catch!"

Nick flinched as the chief tossed a small metallic object at him. Reacting instinctively, Nick caught it in his hands. It was a badge, just like the two behind him. He shuddered and his hand tensed around the badge. Incredible energy surged up his arm and spread through him. He desperately wanted to let go of the enchanted badge, but he couldn't.

"Sorry, but we can't have you reporting on this," Barrow chuckled as he exited and slammed the garage closed behind him. As the door crashed down Nick's legs gave out and he fell to his knees, his fingers still firmly grasping the badge. The young journalist was terrified, but at the same time engrossed in the power bubbling through his body. Finally, his fingers unclenched and dropped the badge to the floor, but the damage had been done. Nick pushed onto all fours and let out a long moan as his body began to change.

His legs stretched out from his slacks, exposing more and more of his shins. Likewise, his arms extended from his sleeves while his entire torso was pulled longer and longer. "What's ah... happening to me?!" Nick groaned as his cock hardened to full mast.

Muscles fluttered and twitched all over his body. They grew across his arms, bulging from his biceps and triceps as his shoulders grew wider, tearing at his shirt. Pecs slowly protruded from his bony chest, growing large and dense. Abs rippled out along his stomach, leading down to a sharper, V-shaped set of cum gutters. His legs surged with strength, copious amounts of muscle growing and forming in his thighs and calves, stretching his fly apart and revealing the wet, hard, bulging underwear underneath. Behind him, his flat butt began to press outward, bigger and rounder, matching his thick, muscular thighs.

He couldn't help himself, clasping at the exposed muscle as hairs darted across the surface. Soon he found himself grabbing fabric, much to his surprise. He opened his eyes to see his tattered clothes repairing and reshaping into the uniform of the local precinct. His bulging arms still strained the new shirt. A bulky, heavy vest replete with a radio and utilities formed over the top.

"Ngh! Fuck!" he grunted, bucking his hips involuntarily as his feet stretched and pressed against his tight leather brogues just as they too morphed to accommodate his changing body. The pressure lowered as his size nine dress shoes rapidly bloated outward into heavy, size fourteen boots. Long toes shredded through his socks, clutching at the insole as they stretched along with his extending soles.

Nick clambered to his feet, clutching his head, only to feel his hair pulling inward, short and tidy. Not only that, but he could feel some hair vanishing completely from his temples, leaving him with the slightly receded hairline of a man maybe five or more years older than he was. His fingers cracked as they began to slide longer across his scalp, pushing through the neat, handsome cut of hair. He held the stretching, trembling hands in front of him, gasping as he watched them swell huge and powerful.

He slammed his massive fists into the wall with a deepening roar, feeling his head creak and reshape. His features broadened and enlarged. A strong chin and jaw pressed out of his face and light stubble sprouted from the skin. "Must be... some way to s-stop this..." Nick groaned, his eyes widening at the sound of his new and completely unfamiliar voice. Nick frantically reached for the police badge on the floor that had started all of this, hoping, praying for some way to revert his changes. His eyes scanned the metallic chest piece, but there was no sign of any method to stall or revert what was happening. Rather, he caught a glimmer of his new reflection in the shiny metal. Nick's wide, handsome jaw fell open at the sight. Not only did he look easily seven or more years older, but he looked completely different; he couldn't help but think he looked much manlier and sexier.

Meanwhile, downstairs, his hard cock ached for touch as it stretched down the leg of his pants. "Oh, god!" Nick gasped. His balls swelled larger while his python thickened and lengthened against his muscular leg. He couldn't contain himself anymore, pulling the fly on his new pants down and fishing his swelling cock out, allowing it to stretch into the open. He couldn't believe how big it had already gotten, easily inches larger than what he was used to. Reluctant but unable to resist, he gripped it in his hand and pumped, growling loudly with every stroke. Nick was too busy relishing his increased size and virility to realize his mind was filling with policing skills and years of experience. Before he knew it he had an eight-inch weapon in his hand. He couldn't take it anymore; his height, his muscles, his size. He felt so virile, so masculine, so powerful. Screaming in ecstasy, Nick blew load after load against the concrete wall.

Once the post-orgasmic fog lifted, Nick quickly tidied himself and brushed a large hand through his shorter hair, dazed and confused. His memory was intact, but they competed for attention with new skills, desires, and traits. The muscular sergeant lifted the garage door with ease, spotting Chief Barrow waiting for him in the car park just in the distance.

"Ready, Sergeant?" Barrow asked.

"I... I...", Nick stuttered as he looked down at his muscular frame, suddenly noticing how much taller he was now. His huge cock twitched in response, causing Nick to moan just a little. "Y-Yes, sir!" he parroted as he proceeded toward the car, eagerly accepting his new life as Officer Nick Collins.

A New Delivery Service

Jimmy picked up the delivery order from the city’s newest, most overpriced, most overrated fusion restaurant, put the delivery bag into his backpack, and stepped out of the door to unlock his bike. He hated menial, brainless, shit jobs like this, ones that got him absolutely no where and ones where the people he dealt with were reliably all motherfuckers. He couldn’t complain too much, though. He got to create his own hours, the constant to-and-from gave him plenty of exercise to maintain his lean figure, he could put in his ear buds and get paid to ride around town listening to music, and there were other perks of the job.

He unwrapped the lock on his bike and put it back in his bag and then pulled out his phone. He clicked back to the delivery app and confirmed that the order had been picked up and waited for the app to load the directions to the drop-off location. His phone chimed as the delivery address was mapped out.

“Bitch, what the fuck??” Jimmy huffed out loud and dropped his jaws at the location. The home he was to deliver the food to was on the literal opposite side of town, up the gradual sloping hill on which the whole town was built, and was apparently a 45 minute biking route. To make matters worse, the app guaranteed a delivery time to its customers within a half-hour window, and docked it from the deliverer’s pay if that window was lapsed.

“Nuh-uh, nope,” Jimmy shook his head and flipped through the app, making his way to the employee support portal. This called for taking advantage of those ‘other perks’ of the job.

He arrived at the ‘Delivery Assistance’ tab of the employee support portal and entered in the details of the delivery. Well, actually he flubbed the details a bit. Exaggerated the delivery distance, over-estimated the weight of the delivery, maybe inflated some more numbers here and there... What the hell, what the company didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

He leaned back after hitting submit, watching the spinning wheel on his phone that indicated that his request was being processed. He anxiously tapped his heel against the pavement awaiting the response, when his phone vibrated.

Request granted!

• Enhancement : current stats X 3

• New delivery time estimate : 20 min.

• Duration of enhancement : 1 hour 20 minutes

Jimmy only had time to wheeze out a shocked laugh as he felt his phone send a jolt through his arm. He was no slouch, but three times his current stats?? And for an hour and twenty minutes?? Talk about a lucky fucking break!

His body immediately tensed up as a high moan suddenly escapes his lips, and he could feel himself spreading upwards and outwards. His calves dropped any hint of body fat and tightened, feeling slightly like a leg cramp, but then loosened as thick muscle twisted up the length of his claves and thighs. He felt his ass lift off his seat with a giggle as his cheeks packed on dense meat. It traveled up his back and torso, carving his back, sides, and abs into a sculpted work of art as he felt his pecs begin to bounce. They thudded bigger and bigger as he looked down and giggled with a deeper and deeper moan, taking a handful of each new massive tit in each hand, his breath quickening as he felt his neck widen and thicken while his shoulders rolled forward. As his shoulders pushed outwards to accommodate his still-growing size, they bursted larger with bulging definition. His flexed his already massive arms as he continued playing with his tits and playing with his nipples. His arms had always been his most treasured feature that he kept proudly displayed with a tank top, and now firm muscle snaked down the expanse of his limbs, rising to the surface and bulging into twisting pythons of muscle. His arms crossed as he flexed and felt the new size of his bulging peaks of muscle. He threw his head back in a way-too-loud groan—garnering plenty of stares from pedestrians—at the next sensation. ‘Guess they haven’t fixed the bug yet,’ he thought with a grin as he felt his cock stir to life within his shorts. His typically 4 inch softie bloomed outward, snaking down his thigh and fattening considerably into a soft 12 inch hog, and quickly swelling into an unwieldy, throbbing 18 inch pecker, a considerable increase from his typically 6 inch hard-ons.

Request complete! Proceed to your destination.

He grinned down at his phone and wheezed another small laugh. He should be grateful that they hadn’t fixed that bug, especially considering some of the incredible shit they unfortunately got rid of with software updates. One of the older bugs was what actually turned him onto working for the app. One of his exes was a delivery biker for the app and would often surprise him all the time as a horned-up 9 foot giant hunk—sometimes smaller, sometimes bigger—to fuck him raw and shower him with unbelievable excesses of cum. Sometimes he’d even get big enough that Jimmy could do pull-ups on his rock hard cock hanging stiffly in the air or even use his ex’s cock slit as another hole during their impromptu lovemaking. Enough local prudes complained to the company that they were sick of seeing a bunch of horny muscular giants running around the city, so they eventually ‘fixed’ it, if you can call it ‘fixing.’

Jimmy couldn’t get over the fact that he had so much time allotted with his enhancements. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten such a long time to enjoy his enhancements… Actually, that wasn’t true. The last time was about 2 weeks ago when he finished a delivery way ahead of time and met his boyfriend at the park after. They both loved when the enhancements came through, they were a great means of keeping things hot, impassioned, and adventurous in the relationship. But most times, Jimmy only ever gets a X 1.5 or an X 2 stat enhancement, rarely ever above that. He was a fucking beast now with his X 3 enhancements, and he intended to share his new beast body with others.

He kicked up the kickstand on his bike and pushed off the ground, feeling the wind blow past his face as his new body propelled him on his bike through the air at a speed much higher than he was used to. He grinned as he pedaled up the hill, barely breaking a sweat, and dialed up his friend Pete, a coworker-turned-friend veteran in his early 40s that was stuck in the gig economy cycle like millions of other workers.

He was already a pretty hunky guy—he always joked about thanking the government for giving him his ‘superman body’ but fuck all beyond that—and he was a hell of a lay, too. Jimmy thought maybe he’d be down to party.

He held the button on his earbud and waiting for the ding. “Call Pete,” he said in a deep voice, the confirming ding echoing afterwards and putting through his call. It rang a few times until someone picked up.

“Yyyyello?” Pete answered with his typical goofy greeting for Jimmy.

“How’s it hanging, boss?” Jimmy replied with a grin. He always loved talking to Pete. He would have considered him sort of a father figure if they weren’t such good friends and even better fuck buddies.

“Currently delivering to the west side, buddy. Enjoying a X 1.5 enhancement on top of it, thank you kindly to my benevolent corporate overlords.”

“X 1.5?! Nice, dude, so they got Super-Superman out here delivering food to the masses now?”

“The people gotta eat, Jimmy!”

“And eat they will! I’m sure a lot of them would prefer a taste of your specialty. What was it today, extra long sausage rolls?”

“You know it! All day, every day my guy!” he responded cheerfully as they both laughed. A brief, semi-awkward pause laid over the conversation. “By the sound of your voice, it seems like I’m not the only one here rocking some enhancements.” There was a slight eagerness in his voice.

Jimmy’s heart leapt as he turned the corner to head further up the hill, his cock twitching and drooling out some pre as it rested stiffly against his tree trunk thigh and snaked out of the leg of his shorts. Jimmy looked down at his massive arms and only got harder. “Guilty as charged, dude.”

“How big, bro?” Jimmy could hear the smile in Pete’s voice.

“Oh, you know, just X 3.”

“X 3?! Shit, well then I guess you and I are pretty evenly matched!” He was right! Jimmy smiled and looked down at himself. Fuck, he loved looking down and seeing a porn star body. The developers had to know what they were doing when they made this feature. And come to think of it, he was basically the same size as Pete now, except almost double the package size, thanks to the system bug.

“I’d say you’re right! Buuut,” Jimmy bit his lip feeling a grin stretch across his face. “I think I have, well… about 3 times more the package you do.”

“Woof, shit… I guess I can deduce that you’re not talking about your delivery order! You’re making my mouth water, stud,” Jimmy could hear the grin in his voice as he painted on his bike. “Making my cock water a bit too, if you know what I mean!”

“I think I do, Pete. I think I do.” Jimmy kept pedaling up the hill while a silence hung over the line for a second. Jimmy could feel his bulging size press against itself as he leaned over to pedal harder. “So… Meet up at the park bathroom after our delivery runs?”

“Fuuuck yes, man! Haha, I was beginning to worry you’d never offer!” Pete chuckled to himself for a second. “Now this is gay culture: two alpha studs swapping spit and jizz in a public bathroom.”

“It’s what our forefathers and foremothers would’ve wanted,” Jimmy quipped back, suddenly realizing something. “OOOOHH I think Richie is working today. Wanna make it a party?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, the more the merrier!”

“Awesome. Either way, I’ll see you in like 10, good?”

“Good. Keep it stiff for me, stud.”

Jimmy smiled and hung up. That would be no problem; he’d been fully cocked since he heard Pete’s voice, and his unnaturally large cock head was poking out of his shorts by now, leaking sticky pre onto his thigh as he pedaled. He just hoped Richie could join in on the fun.

Jimmy knew that Richie only worked a few days out of the week, but took only the biggest jobs when he did. He loved the extra money, sure, but he loved the enhancements more. Jimmy could remember more than a few occasions that he ran into Richie while he was looking like some body builder fetishist’s giant, sweaty, throbbing wet dream. It was comically different from what Richie was like outside of work. If you saw him on his work days versus his short, twiggy appearance and demeanor on his off days, you’d think they weren’t even related.

He tapped the button on his earpiece again, “Call Richie,” and listened to the ringtone. After a few rings, the line answered.

“YOOOOOOOO,” Jimmy heard a thundering, impossibly deep voice answer.

Jimmy’s grin widened. They’d need a bigger bathroom.

Boxered Into a Promotion

(Hi Bros, Im sorry about the delay. The 1k special is still in the works but here’s a great story I’ve been working on with my friend @rozza22365. Honestly couldn’t have finished it without him. If you haven’t checked out his stories make sure you do, as they are one of the hottest tf stories on tumblr)

Tim had just started his new internship as a business analyst at Box Menswear. He wasn’t the happiest to be interning at a gym wear company but it was the only internship offer he got this summer, and he knew he needed some experience before finishing school and entering the workforce.

The first few weeks at the internship consisted of getting to know everyone and all the departments. Tim felt out of place. While everyone was smart they did consist of this frat bro type of guys and the only girls were the ones that worked in the marketing department. One day while Tim was working in his cubicle, Jessica the marketing head came up to him.

“Hi, Tim! It’s Jessica from Marketing.” Jessica said in an upbeat fashion typical of the marketing girls

“Oh hi Jessica, what brings you to this side of the office”

“Well! We just got news from the exec team that we will be opening a new store in Miami and we decided to invite one of our interns to the grand opening. We drew names and boom you were the lucky one!”

“Oh um… thank you Jessica, but I don’t know, I really don’t have the money”

“Oh don’t worry about that Tim! The trip is all paid for by the company. We see a lot of potential in you and would love for you to come. Of course, you would be accompanied by me as your guide and you’ll see how we launch our store. We fly out of JFK on Friday at 8 am. See you then!"

Tim wasn’t able to get a word out before Jessica walked away back to the marketing floor. Tim realized that he didn’t want to make a bad impression with the company so he decided he would suck it up and go on the trip.

Friday came around and Tim got to the airport. The company ordered him a complimentary taxi to the airport. As he got out and saw Jessica standing in the private wing of the airport talking on the phone. As she spots Tim she quickly hangs up and waves at him to come over.

“Wow, Jessica I’ve never been to this part of JFK,”

“Haha! Most people haven’t, this is where company jets tend to fly out so we don’t have to worry about other people,”

After waiting a bit for the plane to fuel up and load Tim and Jessica's luggage, they head out to the boarding area. The inside of the plane was small but lavish, having white leather chairs and black tables.

Tim’s eyes widen at the luxury of the interior. Jessica noticed and just smiled as they got settled in for the journey.

As they finally got in the air the stewardess walked up to the two and asked if they wanted a drink. As she brought back the two drinks she first gave the drink to Jessica then reached back to her cart and was about to hand Tim his drink.

“So Tim, just before you settle down, I need you to do something,” asked Jessica.

“Yeah,” Tim replied. Jessica pulled out a small box with some neatly folded black briefs.

“Not only are we opening a new store but we will be announcing some new male underwear, and journalists can get quite chatty, even with something as minor as this. I need you to try them on, tell me everything you think about it, preferably the good aspects,” she said.

“Sure, I can do that,” Tim replied again, hastily grabbing the box. The only place with any privacy was the toilet.

Tim made his way to the back of the jet and entered the toilet. The interior was similar to the rest of the plane but with wooden accents. As he walked inside he didn’t notice the bathroom automatically locked behind him. He began undressing, starting with his shoes, then trousers and finally his underwear. He pulled the black briefs up his legs taking in anything unique to them. He stretched them out to see how easy to wear and resilient they were, before letting go and letting them slap against his waist. As far as he could tell they were pretty standard briefs, but he needed to come up with something, so stood there pondering on anything he could think up.

“SUBJECT HAS ENTERED…. PROCEEDING TO SCAN BODY” Tim was freaked out by the voice as a red light started to scan the room beginning from top to light. “SUBJECT FOUND IN COMPANY DATABASE…. Tim Crawford…. Age 23… student intern in business analytics department… ” Tim was starting to panic now as a robotic arm came down from the ceiling,

“SUBJECT TIM IS IN POSSESSION OF DNA BRIEFS… scanning briefs for DNA package… package found…analyzing…” The voice continued, ignoring Tims's pleas as it scanned a secret barcode on the briefs. Tim was about to cry and ask about what was happening, but the robotic voice cared little for his suffering. “DNA PACKAGE DANIEL THOMPSON… activate package and begin conversion…”

As Tim continues to hear the robotic voice speak he tries to open the door but to no avail. “THE DOOR HAS BEEN LOCKED FOR YOUR SAFETY…. PLEASE BACK AWAY” ordered the voice. But he continued anyway, even screaming for help for someone to get him. Of course, Jessica was hearing every part but she wasn't going to help.

The voice continued to repeat to Tim to step away from the door… until it stopped, but only for a second. “ SUBJECT IS UNRESPONSIVE TO COMMANDS…. RESTRAINTS INITIATED”. Out of nowhere tentacle-like robotic arms came out from the walls and wrapped themselves around Tim, hoisting him up in the air. “Ahhhh stop this!!! HELP!” Tim continues screaming but with no response from the outside.

“OUTER GARMENT REMOVAL INITIATED” additional arms with claw attachments of the end come out of the walls ripping off Tim's suit and leaving him almost naked in the middle of the restroom, only the black briefs remained and they felt tight. Tim's typical nerdy build was exposed. Skinny and pale with some acne throughout his body. His cock was just below average and wasn’t really proud of it.

“STAGE 1: SKIN PIGMENT…..currently 0%…. Updating to 60%…” as the voice finishes Tim notices Panels on the wall start to turn around revealing long fluorescent light bulbs similar to those in tanning beds. As they all turn on he feels a sharp burning pain on his skin, causing him to scream. In the background of his screaming, he hears the faint robotic voice counting up from 0%…. 1%…. 5%…..13%. This continues for a few more minutes as Tim continues to scream in pain until the voice reaches 60%. The lights then shut down and turn back into the wall. In the corner of Tim’s eye, Tim notices the paleness from his skin had been burnt out, leaving a rosier and healthier colour in its place.

STAGE 2: BODY ODOR AND HAIR… THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS MINIMAL BODY HAIR AND ODOR… CHANGE COMMENCING” As the robotic voice finished, two new arms appeared but this time with what seemed like two aerosol canisters attached to the end. Before Tim could even react, the cans unleashed perfume all over his body. Tim coughing through the spray made out a few words “wait this smells familiar…” and then it clicked this was the same scent box menswear produced for their body spray “Alpha” it smelled like a mixture of a locker room musk and a cheap men’s fragrance. He always hated how the models would be wearing it during the product photo shoots. As the arms continued to spray his body, Tim didn’t notice that the genetic structures of his sweat glands were being forcibly changed as the chemicals from the gas started to penetrate and merge. No matter how much he showered or cleaned, the perfume fragrance would be a permanent aura around him. As the procedure came to an end, Tim could still smell the scent of Alpha lingering on his skin.

Out of nowhere, two more arms appeared with a stick of deodorant that looked the same. It moved quickly and applied the body odour to his armpits. As the slimy texture from the deodorant finished seeping into his skin and a tickling feeling arose in his pits as dark black hairs started to protrude out, blotting out any blonde hairs he had. As he looked down still restrained from the tentacles he noticed the large bushes on either side of his underarms, additionally, he got a whiff of the alpha scent coming from them even stronger than before. Deep down he knew even with his arms down the hairs would stick out of his sides.

STAGE 3: MUSCLES MASS…. THE SUBJECT DISPLAYS 10% MUSCLE MASS….. INCREASING DENSITY BY 98%......

“Please help! Stop this…” Tim pleaded. As he finished screaming for help, more arms and tubes came out of the wall. The first one latched onto Tims's mouth, before extending a tube down his mouth and into his stomach. Tim could barely make a noise as the muscles in and around his mouth had been subdued. The other arms contained syringes full of some liquid. They positioned themselves around Tim’s body, at strategic points before launching simultaneously and injecting him. Tim would scream if he could but all he could do was gurgle endlessly. Two more arms came out but this time two suction cups were attached at the end of them. Tim looked at them and thought about what they could possibly be doing until they launched towards his pecs. The two suction cups locked onto Tim's nipples as they settled onto them, stinging them slightly. Tim heard a noise from one of the walls as a whitish-brown liquid started to come down the feeding tube. Tim continued to try to scream and squirmish to take out the tube. Some disgusting liquidated food poured down the tube endlessly. Tim squirmed as he saw it pass sight and go straight down into his stomach where it finished. Then the syringes effortlessly squeezed the liquids in them into his body forcing it to absorb the chemicals. Finally, the two suction cups vibrated as they sucked away at his nipples, causing Tim to moan pleasurably.

As the chemicals settled in his body, the food continuously fed into him and the cup vibrated, Tim's body began to grow unnaturally. Firstly came his biceps which inflate into footballs, followed by his legs growing so much that they were able to crush a watermelon between them with ease. Of course, with his legs growing his feet expanded from a small size 7 to a hefty size 13. Tim continued to try and yell, but the tube continued to chug, feeding his expanding body. The muscles continued to move throughout his body as 8 slabs popped out of his abdomen, a perfected set of washboard abs. Tim moaned as the vibrating cups became more intense, almost as they pulled out his pecs outwards building two huge shelves that will certainly stretch out any shirt he wears from now on. His nipples became so hard and pointy, that no shirt would conceal them.

“MUSCLE GROWTH FINALIZED……” The machine said as all the tubes and needles reverted back into the wall leaving Tim there hanging from the original four arms.

“Pl…please… I don't know how much I can take…. Stop” Tim said pleading

“PHYSICAL CHANGES AT 85%... Proceed with IMPLANTATION OF DANIELS MENTAL STATE… 3…2…1…”

The mirror in front of Tim then changed to a screen. A spiral popped up and Tim’s eyes were forced to stare into the abyss as the spirals got deeper and deeper. Tim’s mind was becoming dull, his thinking slowed down and he could barely piece together simple thoughts. All he knew was the spiral in front of him. As it went on he swore he could see images and small scenes flying out of the screen, but this was just part of the illusion. Foreign thoughts now began invading his mind. His new body was just his body, it needed to be maintained through dieting and working out. He worked at Box menswear but not as an intern, he was a spokesperson. His name wasn’t Tim anymore, It was Daniel Thompson but everyone called him Danny.

“IMPLANTING DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE… at 10%... 50%... BEGIN FACIAL GROOMING PROCEDURES” the voice screeched again. Tim was absorbed into the spirals, his mind emptying itself of its memories as Danny’s memories were planted in their place, slowly taking over.

Arms yet again appeared from the walls, this time they were there to fix up Tim’s ungroomed hair. One of the arms had another unnamed canister full of perfume. This canister sprayed a musky perfume across his face, Tim was still unphased by this or the itching that followed as a great chinstrap snapped its way across his face making him look more manly, while his blonde eyebrows grew thicker in size and turned dark brown. Another arm possessed a trimmer and while another complimented it with a pair of scissors. These two got to work shortening his hair down, fading the sides into the top while cutting the top down into a short wavy style. It was then finished off with a spray and the blonde hair turned dark brown as well.

GROOMING 100% COMPLETE… IMPLANTATION OF DANIEL’S MENTAL STATE AT… 85%

Daniel knew these thoughts were wrong and held on, trying to fight them. But his mind was so dull and inactive, that he couldn’t do much but let them in unfiltered. Surprisingly though, the thoughts weren’t taking hold at first. They were melting into his defenceless brain, but Tim felt unphased by any of them.

“DANIELS MENTAL CAPABILITIES AND STATE 100% IMPLANTED… MOVING ON…” Daniel sighed relief as the spirals vanished in front of him and his mind came too. He began wondering and panicking about what to do and how to get out of here.

“SUBJECT SHOWS INADEQUATE REPRODUCTIVE SIZE……. PROCEEDING TO INCREASE” Soon a new arm came out of the wall this time with some sort of tube connected at the end of it….. It almost looked like those pocket pussys….. The boxers came down and the chub of his dick was left exposed. The tube then launched out sucking up his flaccid penis. “AH, WHAT THE FUCK” Daniel yelled. The machine started to suck on his cock “uhhhh wa..wait …UHHH stop” Tim could barely get words as the machine continued to suck on his dick. What he couldn't see happening was the more the machine sucked the more his cock would grow.

“SUBJECT IS REACHING COMPANY STANDARD SIZE……. 10 INCHES FOR BOX MODELS,” The machine said as Daniel continued to moan.

“SUBJECT WILL REQUIRE FURTHER MENTAL STIMULATION… subject Tim is registered as homosexual… Daniel is required as heterosexual…” The voice went on. ‘That can’t be right, who’s Tim? I’m definitely Daniel and I’m 100% Gay?’ Daniel thought as he began to realise what was happening to him, the mental effects were lurking inside him, simply waiting to be activated. He couldn’t remember anything from before but he needed to resist whatever came next.

The mirror changed again, this time, however, there was no spiral. Instead scenes of hot models with thin bodies, their tits becoming exposed and the models playing with them. Daniel resisted as well as he could, but his dick was being forced to erect itself as the machine vibrated with intensity. Eventually, a guy joins the models and starts fucking them in all kinds of positions. Daniel tries to focus on him, keeping himself attracted to the man, but instead, he finds his mind wandering to the lures of fucking and breeding chicks, being an absolute womanizer and showing off his body to get them.

Daniel resists as much as he can, but he’s barely aware that his dick is now at full mast and leaking pre-cum. However, to his relief, as the first drop is released, the machine vanishes back into the wall.

“DNA CONVERSION COMPLETE… RELEASING SUBJECT…” The voice said before all the arms restraining vanished as if they had never been there. Daniel pulled up his pants, imprisoning his jackhammer, his pride. He still had no clothes but he needed to find out what was happening. He opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

“WOW… The machine worked wonders on you…” wafted Jessica’s voice, squeezing out a high level of arrogance. Daniel turned to see her lying, stretched out on the luxury sofa. She was now wearing something far more skimpy. Daniel approached, hoping to get answers, but as he did his crotch began stirring. He rushed his hands over to rectify the issue but his eyes were thoroughly fixated on Jessica.

“OH don’t worry about that, come over Danny boy, Let me take care of it for you,” she said seductively. Daniel wanted to respond with a retort or a question. However, he found his body rushing with arrogance and cockiness, something wasn’t right.

“Oh, you can definitely take care of it, Jess,” he cooed back to her. His hands pulled down the boxers and let his crotch flop out. All fear, anger or questioning he had vanished, now replaced with arrogance and horniness. The memories that had been implanted in his mind were coming to fruition. He was Danny, he was a spokesperson for the company, he loved to, and needed to work out daily to make sure he kept in shape for his job.

“Looks like everything's coming too,” She said as Danny overshadowed her. The implanted memories were forming the full picture. The heterosexual desires implanted had full reigns over him, focusing him on the chick right in front of him. His dick was raging, eager to fuck and so was Danny now.

“The fuck you on about? Let’s just get down to it,” he demanded, as he jumped down next to her.

Jessica was about to reply but Danny went in for the kill. He took her lips and made out with her, pushing her back down to the side as he rearranged them both, positioning himself on top. Danny took no time in preparation, to him he had fucked 1000s of chicks before and this was no exception. His dick found its way to her hole, and Danny fucked her hard, taking his time to savour the pleasure, all while making out with her. Danny was so horny and he felt good to release and give in to his new pleasure, but he could feel the pleasure building up and slowly sliding its way down to his tip.

“Oh fuck… here it comes!!” he moaned as his tip exploded with his massive load. His seed being sent deep inside her.

“Fuck that was good,” she said.

“Approaching landing zone soon, finish up and get ready for landing in twenty minutes,” came the pilot via the speaker.

“You need to get ready, Danny. Go get some clothes and snap a pic or two for social media," said Jessica.

Danny got up to get his boxer briefs and then went to get some clothes. His mind had settled. He was Danny, the new spokesperson for BOX MENSWEAR. As he put on a white t-shirt and some gym shorts he caught himself in the mirror and couldn’t resist a chance to show off to the fans.

Paxton Learns His Lesson - Collab with Aardvark

Paxton is a delinquent whose mother has had enough. He’s not happy when she sends him to live with his grandparents in sleepy Hart’s Landing, but the town comes to grow on Paxton in a most dramatic way. - Written by myself and @aardvarkia.

To say Paxton Montcalm wasn’t pleased with his situation was an understatement.

It was stupid, really. All he’d done was take his teacher’s pepper spray and air it out underneath his desk. How the hell was he supposed to know that was considered poisoning other people and assault with a deadly weapon…? Or whatever the judge said - Paxton had hated his fat face, so he hadn’t paid much attention beyond “you’re in trouble now, you little fuck-up!” (Yeah, no shit. He had noticed he was in court, thanks.)

He’d done his community service, apologized, even sucked up a little, but the adults just were not satisfied. Paxton had decided fine, fuck them, he’d just do what he wanted again. No one seemed to give a shit when he tried to make amends. And then he’d snuck out after curfew and gotten caught by some roided-up cop. DeSanto or something. His mother had had enough and informed him that he was going to spend the summer in Hart’s Landing, South Carolina with his grandparents.

“That’s not fair!” Paxton had protested. Upon seeing the thunderous look his mother had shot back, he’d blanched.

“No, I’ll tell you what’s not fair, little boy!” she’d roared, jumping up from the table. “What’s not fair is that I have to continually leave work to bail your ass out, using up my hard-earned cash. I’m a waitress, Paxton. I don’t even make minimum goddamn wage! I can barely afford the rent, everyone either ignores me, thinks I’m a shitty parent, or pities me! The fact that you’ve been here as long as you have is a downright miracle and, frankly, a testament to my patience!” She’d stopped, taken a deep breath, and lit up a cigarette, walking to the sink and taking a long drag. Holding it in, she had opened the window, exhaled, then hung her head. “You’re going. That’s final. Now go to your room. You don’t have to sleep, but I don’t want to look at you.”

Before Paxton could really process this - his mother had never exploded at him before, despite all the dumb shit he’d done - he was on a bus down to South Carolina. It was a long ride from Brooklyn, but he’d managed to pass the time by chatting up some cute chicks and reading a copy of FLEX he’d nicked from one of the bus terminals.

The bus stop wasn’t far from his grandparents’ house, and they met him there. Grandma Rose and Grandpa Walker were just how he remembered them from their last visit on his 10th birthday. Old, decrepit, and kind of smelly.

“Oh, just look at you!” Rose cooed, pinching his cheek and giving him a big kiss. She left a bright red lipstick print on his cheek.

“Hi, gram,” he muttered.

“Stand up straight,” Walker ordered, “and march. I know full well what you did, and I won’t have any of that tomfoolery in my house. You hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Paxton replied sarcastically.

And that had gotten him dragged two blocks to his grandparents’ bungalow by his ear.

Keep reading

Escape

Inspired by the amazing vocal work of Amalianetwork

It was just another boring day at home for me. The rain was hitting my window rapidly as the clouds outside stormed on. A welcome noise to drown out my arguing family downstairs. I just sighed and silently wished for an escape from this mess I call my life.

I didn’t have the worst life. I was just a guy home from college this weekend. Part of me missed the nostalgia of being in my old room, while part of me remembered why I was so eager to get back to my less boring life in my dorm.

These were the thoughts that filled my head right before I blacked out.

Keep reading

Another favorite

Jock

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Max?” His voice was slow and unsure. I wasn’t surprised.

“That doesn’t seem right, does it?”

“No,” he confessed.

“You look like a Jock to me.”

He hummed in agreement, eyes still glazed over.

“What do you do, Jock?”

“I work on com–” He broke off, frowning as he struggled with his words. “I work on computers.”

“No, that’s not right. What do you do, Jock?”

There was a slight pause before a dumb smile began to cross over his face. “Flex,” he grunted.

“Where are we, Jock?”

“The gym.”

“What’s so special about the gym, Jock?”

“I flex here,” he responded, eagerly lifting his arms to flex his massive guns. “I get bigger.” 

It was hilarious to think that just a few minutes ago those mountainous biceps had been half the size. Then again he’d been twice as intelligent then too so this really was a trade up for both of us. I hadn’t even realized my magic was possible of changing another person this much but I guess the amulet I bought really does amplify my magic like the store owner said. And here I was thinking he had been trying to con me out of some money!

“Who do you belong to, Jock?”

Another pause. His arms dropped to his side and he frowned. “No-one?” he replied slowly, sounding more unsure of himself than ever.

“You don’t really believe that, do you, Jock?”

“No… sir.”

“Who do you belong to, Jock?”

“You sir!” he barked in response, frown dropping into a dumb smile. Such a brainless brawny beauty and he was all mine. I could already think of a number of things I was going to do with him now that he was under my control but why not take it slow first of all and really take a look at what I now own?

“Go on, Jock. Pick up those weights and show me what you can do. Prove what a big man you are!”

The moment Jock’s hands wrapped around those weights he lost the last remaining bits of himself. Gone was Max, the computer techie from my office who had deemed himself too good looking to go on a date with me. Now he’s a lumbering mindless jock who wants nothing more than to please me any way he possibly can. Don’t worry, it’s not all bad for him - I’m pretty sure he’s going to love every moment of it from now on!

Absolute favorite. A brutal story written masterfully

End of Shift

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

My life is over. I’ve been playing a high stakes game, and somehow landed on one side of the odds all the time, but my luck was bound to run out sooner or later. I guess I should be happy that it turned out to be later, but it sucks no less. I got sloppy. I was looking through the items near the cashier, as always, trying to mostly use reflective surfaces to see what was going on, as always. I need to be within 15 feet or latency becomes an issue. Some old lady still using the old wallet was buying KokaKola and a pack of Ziffs. This would be easy, as always. I discreetly pressed my watch as she was ready to make the purchase, activating my EM-swiper. I wouldn’t take much, a few credits more. She probably wouldn’t notice it, or think the store stiffed her, or think she bought two packs of Ziffs and lost one. I’m not stealing to get rich, just to get by.

As the EM-swiper went off a high pitched beeping starts behind me. I barely have time to turn my head enough to see the charging police officer, before he slams me into the side of a KokaKola fridge. Shit, I hadn’t done a survey pass through the store as I always do. I could barely register what he was screaming in my ear. “Drop it,” I realize, and let go of the magazine. He must have thought I had the EM-swiper in my hand. He told me to put my hands against the wall and performed a pat-down. It’s only him, so he must be off duty or not on a real patrol. He empties my pockets on the cashier table. Nothing of value, and certainly not something incriminating. I may not have been fortunate enough to afford academy, but I’m not stupid.

“You are detained under suspicion of committing proximity fraud. Do you understand?” he asks me in that commanding yet bored tone of a laborer having to recite corporate bullshit, only in his case it is in the pretense of justice. “Yes,” I answer him. He doesn’t have anything on me or he would have arrested me right away. Probably. “Put this on to acknowledge you’ve read the Citizen Rights Act and agree to an investigation in this matter.” He hands me a pair of handcuffs to put on. I hesitate for a second. He is behind me and in the way of the store exit. I can stall for time and tell him to recite the CRA, but that immediately counts against you, as it is your duty to know it. I have no choice but to put them on. It’s the latest model. I haven’t seen any up close before. Light, thin, all metal, no key hole. Probably opened remotely or only inside a police cell or some shit. I put them on.

“Turn around, pick up your stuff, and exit the store.” I do as told, turn around and begin to pick up my stuff and put them back where he took them. It’s an older police officer. None of them young, jacked up types. Perhaps he is one of the fair ones. But then I am the criminal, so what good would that do me? There’s a small, black duffle bag by his side. So he is on his way home. Perhaps he is tired. Perhaps I can shake him. Have Leo remove the shackles and then stay low for a fucking long time. Or this just doesn’t amount to anything more than a slap on the wrist. I walk towards the door, him behind me.

“Nice watch,” he says, pointing at my wrist as I reach or the door.

He knows. Unless I can get away now my life is over. All I can think of is the monstrosities the state churn out as punishment. Equal part labor force and sadism. I open the door as little as possible and as soon as I am through I dash down the block. I don’t dare look behind me, but I don’t hear him in pursuit. Halfway down the block I swerve into the alley that cuts across the building and out on the block on the other side. If I can cross that block and then down south I’m in the park and there are plenty of places to hide there.

My hands are not on fire. This surprises me as I look down on my hands, screaming in pain. There is a high pitched sound coming out of the handcuffs, like capacitors charging, but it is continuous. The pain emanating from my hands is something unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. My legs buckle. I know I need to move, somehow, somewhere. It’s just so difficult to think of anything but my hands that are not on fire. It would probably be a good idea to not scream my lungs out, but I don’t really have a choice in that.

Just as suddenly as it started it stops. I’m still writhing in pain, but my hands are not on fire in a much more comforting way. “The payment proxy is in your watch, is it not?” the policeman asks, standing a few steps away. I’m panting, I realize when I attempt to answer him. Panting and sweaty. I can’t manage to speak. I just nod my head.

“The state vs. item RK-220553 finds the defendant guilty to breach of contract with the state, executed by judicial AI 5” he reads off his handheld screen. I’m confused to what just happened. “No trial?” I manage to wheeze out. “You entered into a cooperation contract when you put on the handcuffs, as you are aware of as you claimed to know the Citizens Rights Act. Disobedience at that point allows for immediate trial by AI as long as no forensic work is needed.” He sounded like the same bored cop as he was in the store, reciting memorized text for the thousandth time.

I struggle to get up on my feet. Not only am I shaky, but having my hands locked together makes it surprisingly difficult to get up. “You know, this is bad timing,” the cop starts. “I was on my way home and don’t have all the standard gear. It’s supposed to be a swift punishment, for deterrence, but there is really only one thing I can do.” Why is he so apologetic? He opens the bag and pulls out a fucking tactical human transformer. I’ve never even seen one in person before. He turns it on, selects something on the screen, and points the device towards me. “No, I can…”

This time I am on fire, if only so briefly. There is a blinding light, a pulse of heat, and the smell of burnt plastic. As the transient heat subsides it keeps falling colder and colder. I’m naked. All my clothes have been singed from my body. My watch is gone. My shoes are gone. Underwear gone. And, I realize, my hair is gone. The cop keeps punching in selections in the menus of the devices. I manage to get up on my feet. “Stay on the ground,” he tells me. Not so much as an order, but as an advice. I sit down again and he trains the device on me.

I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not pain exactly. There is something about rewriting the code and cellular structure of your body while your brain is engaged that makes it give up in disbelief. “This can’t be what’s actually happening,” it thinks and gives you completely nonsense sensory interpretations. But it also gives up on all other tasks. Time becomes irrelevant. Critical thinking put on hold. When the device stops you are utterly confused for seconds. Possibly by design, but it makes sense that you can’t rewire the brain in flight without some glitches.

“I want you to stand up,” the cop says in a firm voice. “Who?” I ask, still dazed, just to make sure. “You. Get up on both feet. Take this.” He throws an orange bundle to me, and I feebly grasp for it but my one arm yanks the chain to the cuff of the other arm. The bundle brushes by and lands on the ground next to me. He looks disappointed, more at himself for thinking it would work than on me for not catching it.

I look down at my hand and see something orange in my grip, but it is not the orange that interests my but the grip. My arms, thin from lack of food and nimble from grabbing P2 storage modules out of vendor racks. are enormous. Big, well defined muscles with popped veins going up and around them. They look longer than before and even the hands are larger than they used to be. I can see that not only my arms are different. My chest is all lean and strong-looking as well, the legs have these weird lines showing different groups of muscles under the skin, and I can almost bet that the ground is further down than it used to be. Orange! I’m holding something orange in my hand.

“I only have an emergency kit with me, so not very many options for you I’m afraid. If you had come with me I think they would have found some better use for you, but as I said, I didn’t have much to chose from beside himbot,” the cop said while putting some beat-up looking boots from his bag next to me. He grabs the chain between my cuffs, and both of them pop open instantly, and he folds them up and begins to place them back into the cuff holder in his belt.

There was something he said that was important. Like, really important. I feel cobwebs like I had just been awakened from a deep sleep. “Put on the jock,” he tells me, and again I am confused, but of a different kind. It’s like I urgently need to know what he means, somehow. “You’re holding them in your hand.” I again look down at my hand and see the orange piece of cloth, which obviously is what he meant. I flip it around in my hands and finds it to be an orange jockstrap with a generous pouch. Looking down I also see the reason for that, since my dick and balls are large. Much larger than I remember them to be. I don’t want to keep him waiting, so as quickly as I can manage, with my balance a bit off, I manage to place one leg in each loop and pull up the jockstrap. It neatly collects everything in front into a large orange ball.

Himbot! That’s what he had said. It’s like the government robots but human. What was the I and M now again? Wait, those are just mindless sacks of muscles roaming around doing whatever menial task is available.

“Himbot?” I ask him. “Yes, you are a himbot,” the cop answered. “Put on the shirt.”

I immediately grabbed the orange bundle from the ground I assumed to be the shirt. To my delight I was right and with just a few tries I managed to get it on me. It isn’t a real shirt, but one of those without arms, whatever they are called. Quite a lot of skin showed. The shoulders were bare, as were the sides and the nipples unless you positioned the strings just right. Stringers! It’s called a stringers, or something close to it. I feel so tired thinking of words.

“And the boots”

I grab one of the boots. There is something missing, but I’m not sure what it is. I has something to do with the small holes, I think. Well, the large hole is missing a foot, so I put one in it. Then I put the other foot in the other boot, and looked at the cop to see if he approved. He looks about the same. Good enough I hope.

“Face me and raise your hands” I comply immediately. He is pointing the large gun at me again. I don’t like it, but I must do what he says. He presses a few buttons and then there is a sharp headache.

“Who are you?” “Himbot 220553.” “What is your assignment?” “Walk along path 228-red responding to requests.” “What types of requests?” “Any type of requests.”

Magic Mike III: Part 5

“Hello, Mr. Gyllenhaal”

Finally some time to breathe - whilst everyone else was enjoying casting season where they can finally get picked up for other films, Jake Gyllenhaal was just ready to enjoy some time away from the set as pre-production crawled into the focus of everybody’s lives. 

Cast and crew all busying themselves whilst Jake was cast away to some forgotten island off the coast of Hawaii for a holiday.

He had his luggage brought up and continued to listen to the words of the staffer helping him, not even minding how odd it seemed that the man helping him didn’t even look like typical staff. Dressed in a navy blue suit, the staffer stared at him with his hazel eyes as Jake tried his best to pay attention to what was being said.

“Sorry er - what exactly is it that you do?” asked Jake, snapping out of the odd haze momentarily as he began looking the man up and down, taking in his confident demeanour and his striking resemblance to…someone else, another man that he swore was prowling around the studios from time to time on another project.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Gyllenhaal,” said the man, stepping up towards Jake as he leaned in, the mere moments of touch were exhilarating, Jake felt he should’ve backed away but instead let the man close the gap between them. “I’m just a staffer. Why don’t you go outside and relax? And why don’t you leave that shirt of yours behind?”

For a mere moment Jake thought this was odd and would have declined, the last thing he wanted to do was…relax? But then he realised how silly that sounded. After all, he went away on vacation for that very reason. And this man was someone who at least seemed trustworthy. Jake slipped off his shirt. He suddenly found himself somehow, as if being led by an odd voice in his mind, heading outside to relax and was already thankfully dressed for it.

Soon shirtless in shorts, sandals and sunlight, resting back on a deck chair as he continued to just sit there, resting in the heat.

“And how are you feeling, Mr. Gyllenhaal?” came a familiar voice before Jake’s vision was obscured somewhat in darkness, suddenly seeing spirals emerging in front of him as sunglasses were slipped over his head.

“Good,” murmured Jake, nodding as his body automatically began feeling limp and relaxed, starting to slowly fade away from reality and stare at the spirals in sunglasses. As he started to stare and give in, his own body began to change, aligning itself with his muddled mind.

The deeper he drew himself further into his hypnotic state, the further his face started to change. At first shifting only from his own jaw, growing sharper than it already was and with the hair that formed his beard growing darker as his face began to grow longer. His head enlarged slightly with his forehead widening and his hairline started to come down. 

Age began to fade away from Jake’s visage, small wrinkles that once started to appear in were now a distant memory as his ears grew and suddenly the last sane part of his own mind realised that his face shifted to suit the sunglasses, perfectly keeping them in place and no longer drooping down his once smaller nose.

Jake moaned as he felt his eyes adapting to the spirals, his eyes enlarging, focusing further and further as the sunbaked tone of his face began trickling down towards his neck. His own vocal chords deepening before his own bare torso began to cause his body to bulk and sprout, stretching as he grew towards his full height.

As Jake shifted in the seat, still somewhat confused as to what he was experiencing but letting himself bask in the warmth of pleasure and sunlight as he could see his skin almost moving like the waves as if something was underneath causing his muscles to implode his body into the muscularity of a bodybuilder.

His biceps became bulging brawny limbs as the tone travelled down towards his hands, having no choice to grow in order to adjust to the size of his large arms, the knuckles cracking and the fingers flexing as they adjusted in their lengthened and larger state. All the while his own abs pushed out, pulsating as a great ridge began to form betwixt his pecs carving out the beautiful brown pecs that were now on his own chest.

The same kind of ridge formed down at his stomach where he could see his hard earned abs grew even harder as they soon continued to grow and swell one by one, just as his hypnotic commands were telling him to do so.

It was almost as if his mind was able to alter his body and he was loving how it continued to change as his legs parted slightly, relieving himself as his thighs began to thicken. His own shaft broadening as he could feel his own cock against his shorts. The last dregs of himself fuelling the rest of his body as his feet lengthened in his sandals, stretching them to their limit.

“Now, Mr. Gyllenhaal, just relax, I think the others will be here soon and after all this is the perfect place to begin filming. After all, I think this is going to be a fantastic step in your career.”

The man smiled down at the slumping Jake Gyllenhaal, now unrecognisable and the perfect final addition to Magic Mike 3.

Wheelman

In the darkness of his study a shadowed figure sits in the glow of his screen and favorite beverage. Above him shows a red camo print mustang racing through obstacles, the driver hyper focused. “Sir?” A voice asks stepping in from the doorway. “He’s the one,” was the only response. “Find him, bring him to me.”

Diego Higa sat in his Mustang waiting for the light to change. A black suburban pulls around to come beside him. Diego looks over unable to see through the tinted windows. Nervous he grips his steering wheel. The light changes and both vehicles proceed forward, Diego accelerates more to gain distance from the black SUV. Thinking he’d gotten a safe distance away he’s about to slow down when red and blue lights flash behind him. Cursing in Spanish he pulls over to the side as the black SUV passes by. The cop walks up and before Diego can speak reaches inside tazing the young man knocking him out cold.

Diego woke up hours later to ropes binding him to a chair. Cursing in Spanish and fighting against his binds he doesn’t hear the footsteps of someone walking up. Speaking in Spanish the man approaches, “hello Diego, I’ve come to offer you a proposition.” Diego looked up at him with a snarl on his face. “I don’t bargain with someone who kidnaps me.” The man smiles and blows smoke into his face. “You haven’t heard my deal yet. I want you to be a wheelman for me. You’ll get paid very well.”

Diego was floored. Did this guy really think he would stoop to something so low? “Pass,” he said confidently. The man smiled, “I knew you’d say that.” He reaches out giving Diego’s leg a squeeze. “You’re twenty-one? Is that right? Very young and very talented. Is that why they call you the baby-faced assassin?” He grabs hold of Diego’s face examining it. “You are cute, but still very cocky.” Diego just glares and daring the man to try something. “Don’t worry Diego,” he said blowing another cloud of smoke in his face. Diego inhales and begins to cough the man using the distraction to jab something into his leg.

“Youch! What the hell! Are you drugging me?” Diego growled fighting more against his restraints. “I’m making you more compliant and less likely to be recognized.” As he finishes saying that the spot where the needle had been begins to burn. Diego groans uncomfortably as it starts spreading down his legs and into his feet. The man grabs a chair and sits down to watch. The pain gets worse for Diego as his skin feels on fire. His naturally tanned skin lightens in tone. His leg muscles spasm and he experiences hundreds of leg cramps as the muscle expands and swells underneath his skin.

“Not so pleasant is it? Don’t worry it gets worse.” The pain radiates up his thigh as his eyes start to water. The muscles are growing in his thighs, it reaches his groin and he screams out as he feels it the burning spread to his testicles. They swell and immediately flood his body with testosterone. His abs become more defined, his chest pushes out underneath his shirts. The man smiles watching as the shirt shrinks underneath his growing form. A wet spot forms from his growing rod as pre leaks out. “Almost there.” Diego groans as his arms grow longer and beefier. His skin changing to barely tan. “Looking good,” Diego then realizes that the man is now speaking to him in English.

“What are you doing to me?” He asks through gritted teeth. Veins start popping in his neck, his voice growing deeper as if he is going through a second puberty. “Stop!” he screams as his face burns. He closes his eyes, tears pouring out as his face changes. The baby-face starts to melt giving him a more mature appearance. Face hair and a more predominant jaw line. His hair shortens leaving him with a buzz cut. The burning subsides and he sits there panting. He looks up angry and defiant as the man approaches. “Don’t like your new body?”

“Change me back,” he growls the restraints straining to hold him as he flexes his muscles. The man gets close in his face asking, “are you really sure you want to do this? Do you really want to fight me?” Diego rears back and smacks his head against the man sending him staggering back. “Fine! That’s it.” He rushes forward. “Say goodbye Diego,” he says coming up to Diego. Diego tries to fight it, but the man holds him down and grabs a vial. “You’re going to become very obedient.” The man forces Diego to open his mouth dropping a few drops into his mouth. Diego’s eyes shoot open and his cock twitches and stirs before shooting out a load and then another. Each shot wipes a piece Diego away. He struggles and groans and then sits there blank as his cock dribbles out the last drops of cum into a vial leaving him stripped of his identity. The man pulls out a new vial with the words Damian written on it and pours it into the man’s mouth.

“Damian?” He looks up at the man. “How do you feel?” The bound man blinks for a moment and then grins, “good boss. I do something wrong?” He motions to the straps. “No my boy, you asked for it remember?” He unstraps Damian. “Go get cleaned up. I have a job for you.” Damian nods and quickly gets up grabbing the clothes sitting on the table. The man looks at the vial filled with the essence of Diego. He smiles and puts the vial into a case. “I’ll save you for later.” He caps the vial smiling as Damian comes back asking what the job is.

Drug Trials: Part 2

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.

Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit. 

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “…I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply.  I hear him make some movements and then… then… silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That… wasn’t my stomach. 

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.  

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure. 

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular. 

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard. 

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.  

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’ 

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then… I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours. 

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious. 

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

—End—

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by… I mean… look at him.

What the Athletic Department Needs

Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested

Tony Reardon anxiously paced back and forth inside of the coach’s office. It was strangely large and well-decorated, looking similar to something he expected from a therapist. One large loveseat, a coffee table, and a chair with an extra wide cushion were the only items in the room. There were also multiple pictures of championship victories, a few caps and balls hanging as mementos, an array of cabinets, and large windows overlooking the university. He wished literally anyone was here with him. His girlfriend, his advisor, even his mother! But he was completely alone, unprepared to face what he assumed was going to be the coach’s wrath.

As a lead writer for the university’s newspaper, Tony should’ve known better than to expose the article. He’d been in the business for almost four years now through high school and into college, so he could admit it was rather idiotic of him to let his segment leak. He had written an editorial about the recent declines in the university’s academic departments and its odd correlations with the climbing numbers in athletic enrollment. Somehow, while the average grades had been plummeting, the football, soccer, basketball, baseball, and hockey records had been exploding, with a new star player added to each team every week. Not only that, but the swimming team had expanded for the first time in 20 years, and there were now four golf teams instead of two. Somehow, all these events had to be connected with the academic slump, and that’s what Tony’s article was going to explore.

For the next month’s publication, he began researching the link between the fall of academia and the rise of physical activities. The chase had led him through a plethora of unexplained student disappearances, skyrocketing mid-semester registrations, and a barely-quantifiable amount of seemingly illegal activity. The most prominent example had been the creation of some cologne called “Heir,” a seemingly simple concoction invented by the new Assistant Football Coach Mark Richardson. Ever since the beginning of the rises and declines, there had been a huge amount of the chemical shipped to the university almost every day. Tony knew that this cologne had to be the answer he was looking for, but before he had a chance to investigate further, his article had been exposed to the faculty, including the head of the Athletic Department: Coach Sorenson.

And this was why Tony was cowering slightly as he waited for the coach to enter. What would he do to Tony, or with Tony? He had definitely gotten himself in way too deep, but there was no way he could escape now. Tony took a long breath and tried desperately to cool himself down. There was no way the coach would be able to harm him in any way. Tony was only a sophomore, not even 20. He was going to be fine, and he just had to keep telling himself that. He just had to get through this and then he’d be on his way.

Suddenly, the door from behind him opened. Tony quickly stood at full attention, almost as rigid as a soldier.

“Stand down,” Coach Sorenson chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”

Tony followed his instructions, nervously twitching as sat down on the white couch across from the coach’s massive chair. His eyes quivered as the giant of a man strolled past him. Tony assumed the coach had to be almost 6’5 (at least a foot taller than him) and even though he looked to be in his forties, he had to be in better shape than any other man above 25. Bulging biceps and triceps, juicy quads, and thick calves were all exposed as they strained the light blue compression shirt and tight, white mesh shorts. Not only that, but the two massive white Nike sneakers did nothing to hide the giant feet as they stomped their way around the other side of the table. Tony also unhappily noticed a massive cock swinging back and forth between the coach’s legs like a pendulum trying to break out.

As the coach sat down, Tony looked over his own body in dread. He’d dressed a little more professional for the situation as he was talking with the head of the Athletic Department. His plaid button-up was fairly flat, showcasing his lack of anything in his torso region. His khakis gave a similar performance as they loosely held onto his legs. His briefs hid any existence of his dick, which was currently sitting at about 3 inches soft. Barely tapping his small shoes quickly against the tile floor, Tony sunk a little further into the loveseat. His butt barely covered half a cushion as he brought his legs together, hoping to stop the shaking.

“To get right to business,” Coach Sorenson’s deep, melodic voice began. “We both know why you’re here in my office.”

“I’m so sorry!” Tony exclaimed, his tenor voice sounding wimpy and childish. “I had no intention of harming the Athletic Department’s reputation in any way at all. I swear, the article is just an editorial–opinions, not fact.”

“I understand.” Coach Sorenson leaned back into his chair and crossed his meaty arms. He pushed his legs out until they were far apart, the man-spreading showcasing who was in charge in the room. He seemed to be dwelling over a thought in his head.

“I promise, it will never be published if that is what you’d like.” Tony gulped at his own proposal, upset at what he was sacrificing.

“No, no,” Coach Sorenson started. “The article can still be salvaged.”

“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.

“Well of course,” Coach Sorenson chuckled again, only this time it was a little more menacing. “But if you want to get this thing published, you’ll want both sides of the story.”

Tony pondered the idea for a moment. “What does that entail?”

“I know you’re a smart boy, Tony.” The emphasis on “boy” made it seem more like an insult. “I’ve seen your transcripts. Quite impressive really.”

“Thank you?” Tony was lost, not finding the point.

“You should know that the greatest editorials present sources from both sides. If you want to publish this article, you’re going to have someone in the Athletic Department. I would be willing to fill that responsibility.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment; Coach Sorenson waiting for Tony to take the bait.

“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Are there certain questions you’d like me to ask?”

“Well, first, I have a strange request for you.” The coach’s tone suddenly shifted from authoritative to friendly. “My son made a comment the other day about my body odor, and I’ve been quite self-conscious about it since.”

“I can’t smell anything,” Tony replied honestly, hoping to move forward quickly.

“I just want to make sure.” Coach Sorenson pushed his muscular body out of the chair, the giant frame once again showcasing its massive form as it ascended upwards. The coach then made his way over to the loveseat, taking a seat right next to the very uncomfortable Tony. Compared to the coach, the sophomore now looked even smaller than before.

“Can you smell me when I’m sitting right next to you?”

Tony, now even more intimidated then he had been the entire time, took a theatrical sniff before sputtering out a meek, “N-n-no.”

“Alright,” Coach Sorenson shifted over, getting close enough that his gigantic arms and legs were rubbing up against the beanstalks Tony called limbs. “How about now?”

“S-s-still n-nothing!” Tony squeaked. The coach smirked and casually raised his arms behind his head, stretching out his compression shirt and allowing tufts of wet armpit hair to spill out. Now Tony began to smell something pungent, repulsive, and… addicting. His eyes began to water from the stench as he gradually lost focus.

“Really?” Coach Sorenson insisted, slowly leaning one of his pits into Tony’s face. “Are you sure I don’t smell?”

With logic disappearing quickly, Tony decided this had to be a test. All he had to do was show his obedience to the coach and he would get to publish the article. Without a doubt in his idea, he confidently moved his nose right into a damp forest, the stench almost hitting him immediately. Although he now knew his answer, Tony didn’t stop sniffing. For some reason, he kept going. He had had three words to describe the flavor of the coach’s body odor before, but now the only one that came to mind was-

“Addicting, isn’t it?” The coach cooed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pushing his head in further. “Mark really made sure to make his cologne captivating, that way you’d have no chance of escaping.”

Tony should’ve been panicking; he should’ve been screaming and trying to escape. But he couldn’t, and not because he was being physically held down. He could slip out in seconds if he wanted too, but that was the problem: he didn’t want too.

“After I discovered your little essay, I had to assure your disappearance would be quick and much more hidden than the other students.”

Tony was too captivated in the tangles of pit hair to hear or understand what was going on.

“Although Heir probably would’ve worked, I decided it would be best to be extra cautious. Mark had informed me a few weeks ago that he had made a new detergent for his uncle, the CEO of TenHaken Industries. Apparently it was a success, as its main purpose was to give the employees a few extra decades.”

Tony, who was still feverishly sniffing, began to feel pulsing tingles race across his limbs. He twitched violently but continued to dedicate his attention to the pits at hand.

“So, in hopes that Tony Reardon would vanish from the university while also becoming an advocate for the Athletic Department,” Coach Sorenson smirked proudly. “I decided to mix Heir with Maturitatem, the aging scent that Mark made for his uncle.”

The coach pulled a small, empty cologne bottle out of his pocket. It had two labels on it: one that had been originally attached and one that had been taped on. Tony wasn’t able to see either, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was smell the coach’s greasy jungles of pit hair.

Lost in bliss, Tony didn’t notice how the tingling from before had now spread to every part of his body. With every passing second, it seemed to be expanding, pushing outwards as if it was begging for release. In its attempts to escape, the energy pulled at Tony’s mass like taffy, stretching out his limbs and torso as they were pulled further apart. Satisfied with how the process had begun, Coach Sorenson had to readjust his arm to make sure the larger Tony could fit under it. Once the stretching had stopped, the lanky boy now stood at 6’4, just under the coach. He now had to crouch a little with his feet planted firmly on the floor so he could keep inhaling the intoxicating scent.

Now that he was of proper height, the tingling began to focus on certain areas of improvement. The first were the arms, which immediately bloated outwards as mass began to develop. Thick, juicy muscles pushed outwards to create firm biceps, triceps, and forearms. Veins snaked their way downwards to process more flow of testosterone and other hormones. Tony’s hands, which were previously delicate enough to make a typewriter silent, ballooned out as extra flesh made each of his fingers into calloused sausages. They were now only meant to throw, grip, and squeeze.

The tingling then moved across the shoulders and into Tony’s torso. Straight, strong shoulder blades popped out as his chest began to inflate with each huff. Two sturdy pecs pushed against his shirt fiercely, causing the buttons to eventually fly off in random directions. After the pectorals had arrived, they were followed by a magnificent eight-pack that was sure to impress crowds. A hard, defined core helped Tony’s stature become more masculine, giving him a stronger alpha presence to compare to the coach’s.

With the torso improved, the tingling split into two. The first colony swam south, spreading across Tony’s extended legs. The twitching began much more as the Coach eagerly watched the khakis strain at the seams before ripping. As they slipped away–along with his briefs–two sets of gloriously crafted trunks were revealed. Beefy quads were taking in their first light just like the sculpted calves below. A pair of succulent buttocks had also appeared below, hoisting Tony up a little further into Coach Sorenson’s armpit. The sheer size of Tony’s legs forced him to subconsciously push them apart to allow room for his below-average pouch. Although Tony wasn’t a true man yet, his newly-permanent manspread said otherwise.

The tingling also made sure to target Tony’s feet, giving off a similar feeling as if they had fallen asleep. The two soles began to slowly pulse outwards, gaining mass and girth with each increasing centimeter. It wasn’t long before Tony’s shoes were simply destroyed, losing their shape as they were torn into multiple pieces. Coach Sorenson watched on proudly as he swiftly pushed the remains of all the destroyed clothing underneath the coffee table. With surprise, he noticed that Tony was still wearing socks. They had once been knee-high, but now rested right at the ankle, just barely managing to cover the Size 16 feet.

The second group of tingles had now moved upwards, quickly bringing along a flurry of changes as it zipped by. Tony’s neck grew outwards to support larger, broadening vocal chords, which now provided a grumbling bass voice similar in timbre to the coach’s. Tony’s head lengthened out to give him a wider, more prominent chin, allowing for a sharper jaw in return. His ears perked out a little more, along with giving him a bigger nose, wider lips, and piercing brown eyes to replace his shimmering blue ones. His hair also tidied itself up, pulling back up and flopping over as it now had a modern, but natural lift to it.

“Yeah, you’re looking real good,” Coach Sorenson murmured, shoving Tony a little deeper into his pit. “Now, let’s see the namesake of Heir…”

The tingling returned to its roaring presence across Tony’s body once more, except this time it felt more like itching. Sprouts of hair follicles began to explode forth from Tony’s skin, blooming all across his legs, chest, and pubes. Hefty tufts swirled around each other on Tony’s forearms and thighs, while dense forests now covered his calves, chest, and the tops of his feet. Tony’s upper arms were pushed out just slightly to make room for the emerging jungles of pit hair, which now filled in a space Tony had no idea existed before. His face also gained a rather gracious smattering of hair, as he now adorned an extended goatee that could grow back in less than 24 hours. A strong odor began to erupt out of Tony’s body too, a masculine funk coming from his pits and feet that demanded authority.

“…and of Maturitatem.”

Coach Sorenson hadn’t exactly known how much of the detergent to add, but he had assumed a few drops was enough when he had mixed it into the cologne. By the looks of it, he had put in the perfect amount, as the effects were rather minor but definitely noticeable. Tightening of muscles all across Tony’s body came first, followed by the tiniest of wrinkles and weathered skin. Tony’s hairline fell noticeably back, and his once full head of hair lost its youthful thickness. His marvelous eight pack thrusted forward into a powerful muscle gut, almost identical to the coach’s. Finally, Tony’s body hair became a little denser and coarser, adding a few more playful curls across his limbs.

“You’re looking much better,” Coach Sorenson commented as he slowly brought Tony out of his armpit. Tony was startled and bewildered, the smell of the coach’s pits still potent in his nose.

“Now, let’s get you changed into, well, something.” The coach quickly maneuvered his lumbering body across the room to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a set of clothes.

“I always have a few spare shirts and shorts,” Coach Sorenson began as he plodded back over to Tony. “And looking at you, I’d say we’re pretty close to the same size now.”

As Tony was still in a daze, the coach had to help him put on the clothes. First, he carefully placed a tight, gray compression shirt over Tony’s chest, struggling a little at the pecs but eventually making it over. Then, he proceeded to shimmy a pair of blue compression shorts up Tony’s bare lower body, not bothering to grab him any sort of underwear. The coach knew he would rather be commando in the end anyway. Coach Sorenson also grabbed a black baseball hat that had been hanging on the wall and placed it on Tony’s head, making sure to twist it. Although Tony now looked to be around 30, he could still rock a backwards cap.

“Alright,” Coach grunted as he collapsed back into the loveseat beside Tony, the two barely fitting now. “There’s just one more thing we have to do.”

“One… more thing?” Tony’s sonorous voice seemed lifeless. His head had just begun to clear up, but at such a tedious rate that even the simplest of thoughts were difficult to comprehend.

“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know that this process had two steps.” Coach Sorenson grinned, glistening in the warmth of his own arrogance.

“First, there’s the cologne, which you’ve already experienced.” The coach brought up one of his feet onto the coffee table. Tony nodded in response, still unable to think straight.

“And then,” Coach Sorenson yanked off one of his sneakers. “there’s the sole of the shoe. It’s specially designed to help you mentally process the transformation.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yeah,” the coach replied, nonchalantly shoving the sneaker into Tony’s face. “When I read your article, which wasn’t half bad might I add, I was surprised to find that you had missed a whole component of our project.”

Tony, who had finally started to make it out of the haze, was sucked right back in as he passionately inhaled the coach’s foot funk.

“But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Coach Sorenson demeaningly patted Tony’s back. “In a few minutes, you’ll barely be able to read an article, let alone write one. You’ll be just what the Athletic Department needs.”

To the coach’s delight, Tony had now grabbed the gargantuan shoe and was holding it to his own nose. His frantic sniffing was quickly replacing his personalities, values, and morals; shifting them out with thoughts crafted for a team player. Years of academic clubs, races, and scholarships fell away into the abyss, only to be replaced with numerous sport outings of various kinds. His saxophone lessons had changed to baseball practices, his writing seminars had switched into working out in the gym, and his tutoring sessions had flipped from him being the tutor into him being the tutored.

An extra ten years were also added onto his mental plate, giving Tony a whole new history. For years after (somehow) graduating from the university with a Sports Education degree, he had worked as a personal trainer at a local gym, climbing the ranks until he had become the assistant manager. That’s when Coach had dropped by to check on him, with his true intent to offer him an assistant coaching position back at the university. Tony had agreed to an interview not only because it would put his degree to good use, but he’d also get to work with Coach again, and under him. Tony suddenly recalled all the late nights he spent with Coach, lots of one-on-one brojobs, handjobs, and of course, offering his hole whenever Coach needed it. And if Tony got to train his own team, he’d have a group of young boys at his sexual disposal. Just thinking about it made his cock spring to life.

Speaking of his cock, all the information that was being replaced had to move somewhere else, with the only available option being Tony’s balls. With all of his former intellect and memories now stored there, the once previously grape-sized testicles had now bloated into two ample tennis balls. In response to the new volume, Tony’s sack began to ferment the material, slowly dissolving it down and reconstructing into pure jock seed. As the new production began, testosterone dispersed throughout Tony’s pouch, affecting his dick instantly. It was already hard at 5 inches, but it hastily expanded forward into his shorts, becoming as thick as a beer can as it now stood at 9.5 inches.

As everything that made up Tony was now accumulated in Tony’s balls, Coach Sorenson knew it was time for the final step. He gently grabbed the man’s giant cock, gave a good, long squeeze, and let go. Tony in turn took a deep, heavy inhale of the coach’s shoe before exhaling slowly, allowing for a giant wet spot to appear on the front of his shorts. The coach then leisurely made his way back to his own chair, taking a seat and getting into position. Now given more space, the new man hiked up both of his legs arrogantly on the coffee table, spreading them as far apart as possible to take up as much space on the loveseat as he could. Although he knew Coach Sorenson would always be superior, he wanted to make it clear that he could be an alpha too.

“Thank you for coming in today, Tony. I’m glad we could get you here on such short notice.”

“Of course, bro,” Tony responded. “I’d do anything for you, Coach.”

“Good to know,” Coach Sorenson winked before continuing. “Because I know you’re not that bright, we can skip past the logistics and get right to the basics.”

“That’s sick! Thanks, Coach.” Tony gave a dull guffaw.

“Now, Tony,” Coach accentuated the name, chewing on it intently. “Tony isn’t a name that demands respect, authority, and masculinity, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Coach.”

“To be a coach, you know how important it is to give the right impression. You need to be an example to these boys, someone they can look up too.”

“Yeah, Coach.”

“I know you want my advice.  I am a good mentor.”

“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Anthony Renz.” The change inside Anthony’s head was instant

“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.

“Try it on me.”

“Hello, my name is Anthony Renz.” Any existence of the name Tony Reardon ceased to exist as Anthony Renz came into place.

“Very good, Anthony.” Hearing Coach say it, as though it always had been, made Anthony cum just a little more inside his shorts.

“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.

“Yeah bro?”

“Are you missing anything?”

Anthony thought it was an odd question, but he decided to respond to it truthfully.

“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my Coach!”

“Perfect,” Coach Sorenson replied. “Welcome to the team. Before you head out, let’s talk pay.”

Coach Sorenson proudly looked over his new Assistant Baseball Coach, happy that he’d gotten rid of a nuisance and filled a seat on his board. No one would come looking for Tony Reardon, but if they did, Coach Sorenson would know just what to do with them. Maybe Assistant Coach Renz would have some coworkers in the near future.

Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

Jason laughed again

"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...

Sauna

I was very surprised when a guy way out of my league, approached me and confessed to me. I should of suspected something was wrong when he invited me to his house but I guess, I was too pent-up and horny to think rationally. But I think it’s too late now.....

At the present moment I’m sharing a sauna with him and he seems to know everything about me. I’m sure this guy is going to sell my organs........ I was not prepared to die today... there is so much I still want to do. My God, he even know my daily schedule and personal details.... I’m definitely screwed.

Then he whispered into my ears “Don’t be afraid. Guess you still didn’t recognize me. I assure you, you are in safe hand.”

With visible confusion I replied “What?”

“Hehe.... you are as cute as ever” he replied. “U will understand soon, sit tight. “

With that he left me in the sauna confused and freaked out.

...

I know this could be my last chance to attempt an escape and I want to but, don’t want to at the same time. Come to think of it, there is unusual amount of steam here now but, it feels really good here...... a little nap won’t hurt right?

...

Huh? Why was I asleep here.... it could have been dangerous? How long have I been here? It doesn’t feel like much time has passed. There seems to be a letter in front of me, I am sure it wasn’t here before. Should I read it?

!!!

“What happened to me? My voice what happened to my voice!?”

It’s so deep and I’m totally ripped..... hard abs, huge biceps, strong pecs, a real Alpha. How is this possible, not that I’m complaining.

.... The letter, it’s from the guy who brought me here. Huh? What’s this.... His name is Rick and he attended college with me. I’m sure, I would have remembered someone that hot but I don’t remember him. I should read the letter further....

I see it now, He is was Chemistry major, small and fat.....An ideal target to bullies. I remember standing up for him; he was my roommate after all. And he has been in love with me since then and wanted to repay me.

Well I sure do love this gift (i said while flexing), I’m busting with vigor... I could probably fuck someone for days nonstop. Rick is waiting outside for me now and I can’t wait for the main course either.

Hey are you still taking transformation applications? Just found this blog and it's great. I was wonder if you could turn my into a dumb himbo surfer? I'm white, 5'9 and a little on the fat nerdy side, but I'd love to be a tall tanned lean surfer dude!

“Alright dude, welcome to the Amalia Aquatics Center. We have been looking for more surf instructors and you are the man for the job. The name’s Kellan and I’ll be your boss.”

You look at the tall surfer guessing he had to be about 6′7″, almost a foot taller than you. His muscles are lean and his skin is tan. He looks like a stereotypical, but tall and slightly more built, surfer. He even spoke like one. Hardly the professional you were expecting from what you saw at the front desk.

“I’m just here to help you get used to your job. I’m sure it won’t take long for you to fit in, brah.” He chuckled, “Now why are you wearing a shirt?”

You look down, a little embarrassed for even trying this. You look back up at Kellan and he his simply looking back at you with a smirk on his face. Your eyes look down at the beginnings of moobs and gut pushing at your shirt. 

“You want to be a surfer or what?”

You grip the hem of your shirt in frustration. Struggling to pull it  off, you finally do, red in the face. Kellan is just chuckling, “See that wasn’t so hard.”

A blush fills your cheeks again. You look down at your lean, tanned torso wondering why you wouldn’t want your shirt off. You love going shirtless. 

“And we like our surfers to be blonde. Longer hair is preferred.”

You run a hand through your hair, remembering you got it died a few weeks ago.

“Oh and the clients usually like a big cock. From your swimsuit I see no problem there.”

You smirk, thinking of the 7-inch soft torpedo in your swimsuit.

“And our surfers always love getting fucked as a tip instead of cash.”

Your ass suddenly feels very hungry and your cock grows to a full 9 inches at the idea at your prospects for sex. Not that your brain even knows what a word like “prospects” means anymore.

“So dude I think your ready to start.”

You smile dumbly, not even realizing you had changed, “Awesome dude.”

Hi, i was hoping my Touristics trip would take me to Greece?

Well of course we can arrange a journey to Greece, we even have multiple packages to book. Looking at you I think you would it would be good for you to book our Mt. Olympus package. Climb the mountain of gods if you like or drive to the coast, it’s only about 5 minutes by car. But that would be up to you. Oh you would like to climb the mountain first. We can arrange that. 

As you leave my shop, you find yourself on an uncommon street. It isn’t the same you entered the shop through, but you aren’t bothered at all, it feels just right to be here. You wander around and finally a man speaks to you. He is cute, a twink and reveals to have a soft almost feminine voice as he speaks to you: “I have searched for you, you are the tourist the man at Terrence & Ford told me about, aren’t you?” You confirm this and the man leads you down a few roads and then you are able to see your destination, Mt. Olympus.

The little man shows to possess a whole lot of endurance as you climb the mighty peak. Just as he struggles with a particularly high stone you notice his butt, it’s really big from what you see through his pants, and it looks really round and firm. “But wasn’t I supposed to be straight.”, you think as you scratch your head, only the noticing how big your biceps are. You look at them in awe, totally entranced by he twitching of the mighty flexed peaks and the criss-crossing veins running along them. 

Carefully you approach the still struggling mountaineer, grab his ass and help him shove him further up allowing him to climb the rock. Then you reach out and pull yourself up in one fluent motion, earning awestruck gazes from your companion. “Man, it must be nice being this tall.”, he squeaked looking up at your chiseled bearded face.

“Fuck I can’ take it anymore.”, you exclaim in a powerful baritone and pull the man upwards, planting a sensual kiss on his lips, as you rip his pants away, as well as yours. About 10 minutes later you find yourself behind a corner, rapidly jackhammering your new godly cock deep into your companion’s big ass. Another 30 minutes and more than a few loads later you descend down the mountain again.

Though you didn’t reach the peak fully, you still gotta show the mortals on the beach what a true Olympian looks like.

Cocky And Proud, By Accident

Greg's roommate Chris had just begun his 10 month stay in Japan as a part of a student exchange program. In the beginning Greg thought that maybe, just maybe, he would have their 2 bed dorm all to himself. Then he realized he would probably be living with a student from Japan. After all, Chris was taking part in a student exchange program.

But he didn't expect what actually happened. He was assigned a new roommate, who turned out to be Heath Richards, a jock from the football team. When Greg was informed of the administration's decision he just sighed. This was going to be a hard year.

From the moment Heath first entered Greg's room it was clear his new roommate was a textbook example of a college football bro. He was loud - screaming while watching TV, belching and burping, laughing with that dumb jock chuckle. His clothes were everywhere and he refused to pick them up no matter how often Greg would remind him. This also meant that his sweaty smell quickly filled the whole room and removing this stench seemed impossible.

Greg was stuck with a dumb football jock for a roommate and he hated every minute of it. But there was nothing he could do as there was no process to appeal the decision that put Heath in his room. He also didn't have the money to move out and rent a studio off campus. So he was stuck with Heath. And that musky, sweaty smell.

One day Greg woke up and while still groggy and half-asleep, he started looking for clothes to wear. He opened his drawer and took out the pair of boxer briefs from the top of the pile and put it on. He then moved to their small kitchen area to prepare himself some breakfast. As he mixed the oatmeal he felt as if Heath's smell was more noticeable than usual.

"broooooooo" He suddenly heard the jock's voice behind him "why you wearin' my Under Armour boxers dude?"

"What?" Greg looked down and he gasped as he realized that the underwear he was wearing was not his usual kind, but Heath's black Under Armour boxer briefs.

"Fuck, how the hell did these get into my drawer, dude?"

"dunno brah, just calm down bro" Heath just shrugged "ya can wear them dude if ya want, i don't care, i have like 20 more after signing that sweet deal" Greg was about to scream at the guy, demanding he finally take care of his clothes when a thought entered his mind. You enjoy wearing Under Armour. It was a foreign thought, almost as if someone else had planted it in Greg's mind. But it stayed there, and though he was still angry at Heath, the need to take off the boxers just disappeared.

"Ugh" he just groaned "you jocks are all the same" he muttered under his breath and finished making his oatmeal, which he then took back to his desk. He sat down and started eating. You enjoy the smell of sweat, especially after a workout. The feeling of disgust at Heath's stench disappeared instantly, replaced by a slight enjoyment of the salty smell.

Greg quickly ate his breakfast, then got ready for the day. He put on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a hoodie, his ass still covered by Heath's UA boxer briefs. He saw the jock sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, wearing only a jockstrap, with his legs spread wide apart, looking at something on his phone. Greg rolled his eyes as he took his bag in his hand and walked up to the door.

"I hope I won't find any more of your clothes in my drawer, Heath" he barked at his roommate as he opened the door.

"yeah, yeah, calm down bruh" Heath drawled in response, then scratched his bulge. Greg sighed and left the room, ready to get through all the classes he had to attend today.

Greg was sitting on his third lecture of the day, still not the last, taking notes diligently. The professor went on and on, his charisma barely perceptible and he seemed to be the only person in the room who was still following what the older man was saying. Then, as the prof was looking at the computer, trying to change his presentations, a thought was implanted into Greg's mind. You have an IQ of 80 and don't care about academics.

He stopped taking notes and looked around. Fuck, how much longer was this lecture going to take? Greg shifted around in his seat, spreading his legs wider apart. The old dude leading the class resumed talking but he didn't really get what he was saying. It all sounded so boring.

An hour later, Greg was finally free of that old dude's ramblings. He looked at his phone and realized he still had one class left. Huhuh, nope, he was not going to suffer, not for one minute longer. And so he left the rest of his group and started walking towards the dorms. His brain needed time to relax after this mind numbing experience.

When he entered his dorm room, Heath was sitting on the couch, watching game tape on his laptop. Wait, how did he know it was game tape?

"ey dude, yer early bro" Heath commented, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Yeah..." Greg nodded, but then he didn't know what to say, he didn't have the words. You speak like a dumb jock.

"dude, lectures were so fuckin' boring bro, huhuhuh" Greg let out a dumb chuckle as he approached Heath and then sat down on the couch.

"duh bro, never got why ya bothered with all that academic bullshit bro, i see yer finally seeing how dumb all that shit is" Heath paused the video on his laptop and looked at Greg. "the only reason to stay in school is fuckin sports dude, ain't no other way to get to the NFL bro" He then furrowed his brow as he looked into Greg's eyes "you play ball dude?"

Greg was surprised by the question and as his brain was processing it, another thought appeared. You are a cornerback playing for the Atlanta Golden Eagles.

"yeah bruh huhuhuhuh, am a damn cornerback" Greg let out another dumb chuckle and Heath looked at him, suddenly very confused.

"shit, i gotta get ya to coach" He put the laptop away and stood up "follow me bruh"

Coach was not thrilled when he learned what happened to Greg. When Heath brought him to his office it took a while to get the necessary context out of the dumb jock, but eventually Coach was able to understand what had occured.

His supplements which turn all his players into strong and cocky football jocks had a weird quirk - it spread through his body and entered the jock's cum. And because Heath was one nasty jock, he got off into his boxers and didn't even wash them. so when Greg put on Heath's used boxers, some of the supplement got into his system and the his transformation began.

Coach was not thrilled, but he quickly , but he quickly decided to use this whole mishap to his advantage. He activated his connections, did some work himself and got himself a new player - cornerback Greg Geralt Evans. A few rounds of Coach's supplement and Geralt would be just as muscular as his best bro Heath, ready to get on the gridiron destroy any opposing team.

And Chris would have to find himself a new place to live after coming back form Japan.

Check out my new story on my side-blog!

Power Couple

---

Thank you all for waiting! Its a tad longer than I've ever written before.

I hope you all like it! Thanks again to @mrrharper for proof-reading!

----

"Hey, Babe?"

"Yes, Chris?"

"Can you help me put this on?" Chris said, motioning over to the little white tube on the counter top.

As Alex walked over into the kitchen, his boyfriend was already taking off his shirt.

"So, what's this for?" Alex asked, inspecting the label on the tube he just picked.

"You know my co-worker Jack right?"

"The gym bunny, right?"

"Yeah that one."

"So what about him?"

"Well. I was chatting with him during my break and he told him I recently started going to the gym, so he offered me this cream."

"Hmm. What's so special about it though? Looks like any ordinary cream to me" Alex remarked after scrutinizing the ingredient list.

"Uh. He said it helped him a lot when starting out. Helps prevent sore muscles and promotes muscle growth or something."

"Anyway, it's getting a bit chilly. Can you lather me up already?"

"Uh yeah sure, sorry"

Squeezing the tube revealed a solid white cream which felt cool to touch. Alex put a sizeable blob on his hand and spread it out on Chris' back much like you would do with sun screen on a hot summer day. It felt like it too. The thin liquid quickly disappeared into his, what looked to be broader, shoulders as he rubbed it in.

"I think I can see your effort pay off a little already babe, your shoulders look a bit broader" Alex noted.

"Really?" Chris asked, glowing from the compliment.

"Of course!" Alex replied smiling back at his boyfriend.

"Well, this is the only start babe" he said with a confident smirk while quickly putting back on his workout shirt.

"That said, time for my workout. Thanks for helping babe" Chris said giving a peck on his boyfriend's cheek before leaving the apartment.

Chris could definitely feel the work of the cream. Like a machine he was pumping through his sets. Usually, he'd feel his limit kick in quickly. However, today he felt like he could pump another extra 2 sets.

Chris wasn't the only that had noticed the change. One of the biggest guys, Scott had made his way over as Chris was still busy pushing out reps.

"Want me to spot for ya, bro?" a familiar baritone called out.

As Chris looked up he was met with Scott's face.

"Uh yeah. Thanks, that'd be great" Chris replied, not expecting Scott to come over.

Scott was the gentle giant you'd always hear of: mind fully set on lifting but always there to help newbies in the gym.

"No problem bro. I noticed you've been in the gym longer than you'd usually be, you getting a feel for it bro? huhuhuh" Scott said, his hands now hovering under Chris' bar.

"Yeah huhuhuh, today's been great. Been lifting so much more than I usually can, I'm really feeling the burn" Chris replied, surprised at the sudden guffaw he'd apparently taken over.

"Bro you should watch your form, your arms are a bit crooked. It'll make your shoulders will really start hurt, bro. Here lemme show you" he said as he helped Chris rack his bar.

"You've gotta make sure sure you spread your arms wider, it shifts the strain back to your chest muscles" Scott said, as he pushed Chris' arms futher apart.

Taking his advice, Chris once again lowered the bar to start benching another set.

"You feel the strain now, bro?" Scott asked while gently pushing down on your pec muscles

"Yeah bro, that definitely makes a difference" Chris grunted as beads sweat started to form on his face.

"I think you can do better than this bro, let's add a plate"

Normally Chris wouldn't have considered it, but today he was on fire.

"Yeah bro, let's do it!"

As Scott loaded up another plate on each side, Chris felt his motivation rise further.

"Come on lil' bro, you almost have it!" Scott hyped up Chris as his last rep.

With Scott spotting him, he managed to break multiple PRs that day. Not only had he done more sets in one session than he usually would but he also managed lift extra weight.

"Good shit bro, huhuhuh" Scott said as he helped rack the bar again.

"Man, I can't believe it went this well today. I hope I'm not too sore tomorrow" Chris said to himself.

"You'll be alright bro. Let's hit the showers" Scott reassured him while putting away the weights.

After putting back all the weights the two of them walked towards the locker room.

"Hey bro, you've got a good pump now. Gotta show it off, you know what I mean?" he said with a slight smirk.

"Come on bro don't be shy, huhuhuh" he said put his hand around Chris' shoulder and leading him to the mirror.

Like an older brother teaching his younger brother Scott took off his sweaty tank and struck a side chest pose.

"You see bro? Like this" he said to the side as he kept looked straight forward to the mirror.

In the reflection he could see Chris acting shy and hesitant.

Taking matters into his own hands he grabbed onto Chris shirt and lifted it over his head in one swoop.

Chris' sweaty body was now fully on display.

"Hey, uh, what"

Chris was stunned. One second he was lost in thought and now he found his shirt was missing laying on the ground.

"See bro, your body looks good" Scott said, as he placed his large paw of a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Having Scott support him felt really good.

He felt like a big bro to Chris, which reassured him.

Quickly, Chris' hesitation started to fade and he started notice the, albeit small, amount of muscle definition that had started develop.

"I look good bro" Chris said, as he now admired his muscles, his mouth almost agape.

"You do bro. Now come on, show off those arms. Ya know, strike a pose, go crazy huhuh"

Without much hesitation this time Chris flexed his left arm. He looked in the reflection as he saw a bump form as he curled his arm.

"Your arm is looking pretty big now bro, right? huhuh"

"Huhuh, yeah bro. This is great"

"You coming again tomorrow bro?"

"You bet."

"Hey babe, how was your workout?" Alex called over from the living room upon hearing the sound of the door opening.

"It was amazing. This jock cream does wonders. I was able to do like two more sets than usual." he explained as he dropped off his gym bag.

"Wow babe, thats great" Alex said, giving Chris a quick kiss.

"Yeah. The biggest guy even came to spot and me gave me some tips about my form. Bro's amazing" Chris explained enthusiastically.

"Look, he even taught me how to a pose" he said, stricking a double bicep pose.

"You like what you see? huhuh" Chris said with a cocky smirk on his face.

"Yes babe, I do" Alex replied, totally turned on by the sexy muscle and newfound confidence.

"Well then. Let's go somewhere you can see some more" Chris winked, eying at their bedroom door.

"Ah... I really overdid it yesterday" Chris groaned in pain.

"Yeah.... You did...." Alex laughed, rubbing his ass cheeks.

Chris put his arm around Alex as they snuggled up together and cuddled for a couple minutes.

"Alex, could you help me put on the jock cream again? I promised bro I'd be there today as well."

"Of course babe, let me grab it."

Upon returning Alex found Chris laying on his back already. Alex never really paid that much attention but his boyfriend really had some nice definition going.

He was also wondering why Chris was saying bro so often now, but in all honesty, he actually found it kinda hot.

Again he put the cream on his hands and started the massage it into his boyfriends skin.

"You like that bro?" Alex said, thinking his boyfriend is just roleplaying.

"Yeah bro, that hits the spot" Chris replied, letting out a soft moan as the soreness of his muscles soothed.

"So, you're gonna lift with your bros today right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, huhuhuh. You should join bro"

Alex started to think about it.

"Turn around babe, I'll get the front for you as well"

"Thanks babe"

He started fantasizing about becoming a fitness power couple.

"Hmm, perhaps I could try it out some time."

"Bro, no better time than now! Come join me today" Chris said enthuastically.

"I'm not sure yet babe" Alex said, avoiding Chris' gaze.

Noticing that Alex was avoiding looking at Chris he grabbed his arms and flipped him around.

Chris was now on top, pinning down Alex's arms to the matress.

"Come on babe, do it for me" Chris pleaded.

"Okay... Fine" Alex said with a slight giggle.

With a triumphant sigh Chris let go of Alex' arms.

"If I'm going I want to try that cream as well" Alex pouted.

Chris obliged and made sure oil up his boyfriend just as well as he has done for him.

The two oiled up lovers grinned at each other for a moment before starting resuming their cuddle from 15 minutes ago. Whilst cuddling they could feel the slick layer of jock cream rub against each other's skins as it slowly absoorbed into their skins.

"Hey bro, ready for the workout today?" Scott called out at the sight of Chris

"Of course bro, wouldn't want to miss it." Chris replied enthusiastically.

"Lil' bro, who's this?" Scott asked, looking at the newcomer that stood next to Chris.

"This is my boyfriend Alex, Scott. Managed to convince him to go with me to the gym, huhuhuh"

"Nice bro, the more the merrier. The more muscle the better right, bro?" Scott asked Alex who stood awkwardly next to his boyfriend.

"Yeah, bro. Of course" Alex replied.

While it was fun roleplaying with his boyfriend, Alex had to admit it felt kinda embarrased calling Scott a bro. He did however see why Chris said he liked the guy.

"Let's go, broskis" Scott said, heading towards weight room

They started their workouts, going even harder than the day before. The three of them pumped out rep after rep on various machines, aiming to .

"Come on, you can do it. One more rep, just one more" Alex said to hype up Scott as he had already pumped five reps of what seemed to be Alex and Chris' weights combined.

"Nice bro you got this" Chris said, giving Scott a pat on the back.

What Alex thought was just some casual banter between dudes started to worry him now. In his recollection, Chris never said bro before yesterday. If anything his boyfriend not only sounded like a bro but also had started to act like one.

"Hey babe, can I talk to you for a sec?" Alex asked, pulling Chris to the side.

"Ever since you came back yesterday, you've been acting like some frat bro. What's up with that?"

"huhuhuh I guess you're right bro, I have been acting like one"

"There you go again. Chris, what's happening to you?" Alex asked, sounding legitimately concerned now.

Intrigued by the heated conversation Scott had made his way over and put his arms around both men's shoulders. "What's the fuss about bros?"

"I'll tell you what the problem is! 'Bro' this 'bro' that' Alex said angrily as he removed Scott's arm from his shoulder.

"Bro, calm down" Scott said

"I am- uh not a bro!" Alex defended with a slight hesitation in voice.

"Bro, babe, why are you getting so heated? Why not put that energy towards lifting? huhuhuh" Chris said

"Br-babe, I- bro"

Alex could feel his control slipping away.

He felt his brain turn to mush as his worries started to fade.

Bro...

Bro...

Bro...

The more it was repeated, the more Alex lost his way.

Each time he got a step closer.

Step by step.

Until something just snapped.

"Hey bros, why are you just standing there?" Alex asked with a perplexed look on his face.

The fog in his mind had cleared. He was no longer confused.

Alex was a bro. Chris was a bro. Scott was his big bro.

They were always best bros.

"Ah it's nothing bro, you were just being a little dummy" Scott said

"Huhuhuh sorry bro" Alex replied, absently scratching his head

"Let's continue working out, broskis" Chris chimed in.

This time, the trio really managed to finish their workouts. Despite only being a newcomer Alex had been able to lift a huge amount of weight. Normally, one would only be lifting as much if after half a year of consistently working out.

Thanks to the magic of the jock cream however both Chris and Alex could easily push pasts their limits again and again.

Before finishing their workout Chris quickly snapped a pic.

"You two are really becoming a power couple aren't you, broskis? huhuhuh" Scott remarked.

"Huhuhuh yeah bro" Alex said as he continued lifting his barbells.

"Of course bro" Chris chimed in, quickly striking a double bicep pose to show off his gains.

Gamble

(This idea was formulated by Craftsman )

Josh threw the dice, these two little things bounced across the table as he held his breath. “Seven!” The dealer shouts and Josh jumps up and down in excitement. Josh looked like a stud, but his story didn’t start there. 

Casino’s have been trying to bring more people in, but with everyone becoming more tight on their wallets, they had to expand what you could bet. You can still bet money, but they’ve now made it so you can bet your looks, your intelligence, your sexuality, even your social class. Enter Josh, a 35 year old who wanted his bet his age. It started with a hand of blackjack. He put down 5 years which would’ve made him 40, he got a blackjack and ended up becoming 25. He doubled down and won 20 years. The Casino however couldn’t age him any less than 21, so he opted to cash out his extra 16 years for looks.

It started with his muscles, the sagging skin tightened up with muscle swelling underneath. His pecs swelling as his chest lifts up. He loved every second of it. He began to bet more and more, lady luck along side him the whole way. He grew beautiful blond hair, his leg muscles strengthened, and now he has a gorgeous six pack. He started stock piling some of the amazing things, so now he gets to stay 21 for the next hundred years, he’s famous, and gorgeous.

Problem is Josh didn’t know when to quit. He was so far ahead, but then he had to try roulette. He gave up having a hairless body. When he realized he wasn’t going to win that way, he opted to bet his intelligence thinking he could maybe just double it if he bet red or black. Five spins later and the Casino cut him off. They didn’t need him drooling all over the carpet. His once above average mind now just smart enough to form simple sentences and work out. He lost his money so he had to find a job doing something else.

Good thing he got to keep his looks and stay 21 for another 100 years because working for a gay strip club is helping him rake in the dough. Unfortunately, he’s no smart enough anymore to stay away from the casinos.

“Watch where you’re going!” snapped the businessman, Sam Milton, the newly made CEO of his father’s business. Hot coffee spilled over his suit as he quickly wiped away, glaring at the speedo wearing shirtless and skimpy man in front of him that had bumped into him. They held a rainbow flag in hand as Sam instantly knew he was from the pride parade that was nearby.

“Sorry mate,” came the relaxed and British sounding voice of the shirtless man, Sam felt he saw him somewhere as a model, but he wasn’t sure why he would ever remember that as he glared at him, as a barista came rushing over.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Milton, sir, could I get you a new order?” questioned the barista quickly, Sam shrugged.

“It’s fine, not like he put anything in the coffee,” Sam joked as he took a sip, not ever noticing the slightly tangy taste that came from the hot substance inside as he finished wiping himself off before leaving.

On the way to work, he found himself finishing the coffee before finally entering his office, sitting down with the skyline behind him, his assistant had already left a stack of files and things to do. Sam started to get to work, reviewing reports, as he started to find himself sweat. It was small at first, droplets on the back of his hand before beads started to run down his forehead. “Why isn’t the AC on?” Sam muttered, coughing as he noticed the odd gruffness off his voice, he started to unbutton himself, taking off his tie.

And then his dick started to become erect. Sam shuffled and stifled in his seat as thoughts of the parade came across his mind, not realising that he had been straight before, he just had a date yesterday! His hand slowly started to find itself on his thigh, wanting to inch closer and closer to his needy cock, he shouldn’t be doing this at work of all places, but his mind could barely respond, and his fingers grew closer and closer, coiled towards the very edge of his length and then-

“Sir,” A knock came at the open door, as his assistant stood firm in the doorway, giving them a warm smile. Sam instantly picked his hand away, focusing on them as best he could, only thinking about his body, those fuckable lips…Why was he thinking about that? Damn it, he needed to focus!

“Yes?” Sam’s voice sounded odd and distorted, he coughed to try and cover it up, wondering what was happening as sweat continued to sheen off skin.

“The investor, Mr. Clarke is on the line, the one to call about our next quarter,” informed the assistant, Sam nodded as they gave him one last smile before walking away back to their desk and closing the door behind them. Sam instantly picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mr. Milton,” Sam’s voice only grew rougher and rougher, as he felt his hand clutched around his cock through his suit pants, unable to stop himself as he started to see his hand, slowly growing paler and paler, the fingers felt longer as they started to grow and expertly maneuvered around his head.

“Mr. Milton, is it? I’m Julius Clarke of Clarke Foundations, I just wanted to speak to you briefly…” The voice paused as Milton couldn’t help but emit a low groan as he could feel his other hand starting to grow larger, wrapping around the phone in his hand as his other teased the head of his lengthening cock, starting to slither down towards his thighs as the first tears at the seams of his pants could be heard. “Mr. Milton, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a-head-” Sam yelped as his fingers stroked over the tip of his cock, the more they played with him, the more he felt himself growing as more rips were spreading in his pants, revealing more of the muscular mass of his legs underneath that started to grow, “of myself. Carry on.” Sam quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth as he started to see his cock poke through the top of his boxers and pants, throbbing as the suit pants were shedding away.

“As some of you know, some of our recent investors have been a pain in the ass-” Sam almost fell from his chair, now his knuckle stone white as it grabbed at the edge of his desk, feeling his chair pushed away slightly from under him as Sam felt his cheeks spread apart, hairs growing on the back as they began to grow and tear away the Calvin Klein boxers and seat of his pants. “And not to mention the fact that they’ve been clearly ripping us off.” The rest of the pants ripped away as Sam felt his thighs thickening, growing in muscularity as they became lean and long, stretching out beyond the desk and causing Sam to fall on his knees, only his office shirt on as he resisted the urge to moan at the feeling of his calves growing.

“Yeah, we- we should come-” Sam felt his cock twitch, still growing in girth and elongating as it flopped down between his legs, looking paler and larger as pre-cum dripped. “I mean, get over there and sort…sort it out.” Sam couldn’t breathe if he kept talking, trying to stop himself from panting and groaning as he felt his feet start to crawl forward, looking over his shoulder as his dress shoes began to split, the black shiny soles as his large pale feet started to poke through.

“Exactly, now I think you could be a strong competitor,” started the investor, the moment he said strong, Sam felt his arms flex themselves, needlessly watching the rest of the buttons from his tight shirt spray into the air as they were flexed off. Sam had always been fit, but this was something else as he started to cup his new pecs that became extremely large, swelling to the point where he could barely believe they were real. The muscular power flowed through his stomach, his once lean abs now became stronger and sturdier, growing and thickening as they were now deep crevices in his stomach. “I’m hosting a gala soon, where we could discuss this with some other members who are interested in a coalition of sorts, would you be interested?”

“Sorry,” Sam couldn’t tell if he was apologising to the investor for the noises or the meeting as he felt himself near writhing on the ground, the phone still barely in hand as he continued sweating, his cock throbbing.

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was having some people coming all the way from Britain,” It was then Sam started to find his mind rearranging, new accents and words fading in and out as he couldn’t even remember what it was like to start speaking with an American accent, his own groans and muffled moans started to sound different in his deep voice that lingered on with a new London accent. “Well, I will speak to you soon then, here’s hoping you can still come.” With that, everything went blank, business, statistics, stock prices, and so much more as Sam saw nothing but white as his dick throbbed and delivered the best orgasm of his life, spraying and coating his entire body and desk with his own cum, every single orgasm erasing Sam Milton as the American businessman, now replaced with the London model as he began to moan out loud, writhing in his own pleasure as he came again…and again…and again.

“Oh fucking hell mate, where the fuck am I?” Sam muttered to himself as he started to look around, standing up behind his desk now as a naked muscular hunk dripping with cum and sweat.

Some time had passed after the incident, Sam couldn’t remember what he was doing that day but now found himself too busy to care. The business was taken over by his father until his son was “feeling better”. His dad now started going to the same coffee shop as he did with the same guys who came from the same parade every year. It was only a matter of time before he followed his son’s footsteps.

As for Sam Milton, well he now found himself posing on the billboard across from his old office, modelling for the makeup company; Clarke Foundations. 

Making Some Changes

By: the-craftsman

The cafe had seen a lot of better days, times when, the boss admitted, that it was a great place for college jocks to hang out and chill, but throughout the years it became “sophisticated”, a place where boring people came, ordered their drinks and left, leaving the cafe a place for dwelling hipsters, like Andrew and Rob here. The two of them sat down, Andrew barefoot not minding as he was complaining to Rob about the useless “jocks” on campus, needless to say things needed to change. Rob and Andrew were once again sat on a casual day, most of the people by now were leaving which was odd for the afternoon, and they swore they saw the appearance of more jocks in the cafe then they were on campus, which of course made it all the better when they complained.

“God what are with the meatheads today,” chuckled Andrew, beginning to sip into his chai tea (because of course he would be the type of person to order chai tea at a cafe), his feet still barefoot as he began scratching at his beard, feeling like it was slightly rougher against the skin, even skinnier he supposed. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe they put steroids in the coffee here,” smirked Rob as he drank his own chai tea, feeling a bit of a tangy taste causing him to smack his lips, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat. “From the taste of it, sounds like some of it slipped into our tea.” Rob joked, both him and Andrew laughing, neither noticing that their laughs had become deeper, almost more full as they were the only ones in the cafe by this point, that was, beside their new manager who was watching them earnestly as he wiped the tables. 

“God yeah, man this tastes awful,” grimaced Andrew, noticing his grip on the cup had become weaker, like his hands were feeling numb and he swore the cup was smaller than before. “I’ll go see if we can get a replacement or something.” Rob nodded, shifting in his seat as a sweat was breaking out on his brow, hoping Andrew didn’t notice. Andrew had walked up to the manager, still barefoot, not minding showing off his body now especially when there was nobody left in the cafe besides him and Rob, “Excuse me, sir, is it okay if we can get a replacement please, these just taste a bit…” The manager ignored him, though Andrew swore he could see a smirk. He was horrified as he dropped both the cups, glancing at his hands as he saw tanned skin began to appear, the tone travelling down his fingers which elongated.

“Andrew!” Rob was behind him, his own hands doing the same. Before the two could even begin to run away, they both looked down, watching their feet expand, growing to be similar footsize as Rob’s own pair of feet broke through his shoes, the toes popping out of the seams as the leather all but buckled upon his feet, the musky odour that began to emanate from them causing him to stifle a deep moan, as his feet all seemed to move on their own, instead of running away like he wanted them to, they were getting closer to Andrew. Andrew witnessed the change, unable to stop smelling his own musk that even began to make his cock erect. 

“R-Rob, we need to, to get out of here…” Andrew groaned, feeling his now larger and toned hands began to caress Rob’s body, slowly tearing off his clothes as Rob’s hands did the same to him. Both their hands exploring one another’s bodies, exploring each other as they began groaning and moaning together. Andrew felt Rob’s torso begin to creak, his own fingers seemed to almost create the crevices that defined themselves in Rob’s belly as his body became thinner, his shirt falling away as pectorals began to jut out, and Andrew felt Rob doing the same to his own, Rob’s fingers coming down to create the perfect navel and defined abs for himself. “R-Rob…” Andrew moaned before he felt Rob’s lips on his own, the two of them unable to stop themselves as their cocks pressed up against one another. Andrew’s fingers traced on Rob’s shoulder blades watching as a tattoo began to form. 

It was then when they felt their bulges expand, their cock elongating and lengthening against one another as their pants seemed to fall apart, Rob’s hands came to grasp Andrew’s ass and he suddenly felt his own inflate, his ass thickening and becoming somewhat wider as if the fingertips and hands that brushed it were crafting it, shaping it into the perfect bubble butt as Andrew did the same to Rob. They both glanced down as new underwear appeared, tightly fitting around their cock and ass, outlining themselves. Andrew even teased Rob, his fingers diving into the crevice of his new large ass, slapping it slightly and smiling as he did so, Rob yelped and groaned at the spanking and the fingers that continually teased diving into his ass to rub against his prostate, almost arching his back as he wanted more. Yet instead both their hands continued to explore each other’s cocks, fingers caressing the very head and the tip, rubbing against them to hear the other groan just that much more louder.

“You like that bro?” smirked Andrew as his finger came and playfully caressed the throbbing underside of Rob’s cock, his fingers making Rob tingle as he pre-cum was beginning to jut out, staining their tattered pants as Rob began to hump and thrust into Andrew’s hand.

“Andrew b-bro…I need…need more…” Rob continued to hump at Andrew faster, wanting more, hoping his collea- his bro could shove his cock down his ass, but with a seductive wink from Andrew, Rob knew that was later. 

They moved even closer, feeling both their legs almost tangle as they brushed against one another, becoming thinner, much more muscular as their calves defined themselves, their bulges still rubbing against each other as they were leaking. Andrew kissed Rob once again, unable to stop as his mind was altering, his groaning and moaning becoming much more apparent as the tatters of their old ‘nerdy’ clothing disappeared, their rough beards were gone as their jaws became chiselled, as their hands ran through each other’s hairs, their locks were gone, instead their hair was straightened, each other’s fingers almost combing through and styling it on their own. 

The musk was far too much, their feet both being confined to sandals as the two sniffed deeply, their fingers were clutching and grasping at each other’s cocks through their new underwear, rubbing the very head with their palm as Rob looked up at Andrew, biting his lip at the man’s blonde hair as he stared at them with brown eyes. 

“B-Bro…I’m gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me bro? Do it.” And with that, Rob couldn’t stop himself as he felt Andrew’s fingertips pull at his cock one last time before he stained his underwear with heaps of cum, upon seeing this Rob quickly did the same to Andrew, only giving him barely two strokes before Andrew did the same, the two of them cumming and leaning into each other’s touch, reality bending around them as their old lives were forgotten, lost upon them, no longer the hipsters that they were but the dumb bro jocks they once resented, once were jealous of, and that they now once were. 

By the time Andrew and Rob came back to be, they were both standing up, the manager facing them as he gave them their new drinks.

“Yeah bro, don’t give us any of that chai tea shit again, I’m telling you we don’t drink that,” Rob noted as the manager smiled, giving his most sincere apology as he waved goodbye to the two new jocks, the both of them laughing and flexing in their new bodies as they left the cafe. Needless to say they weren’t going to be lingering around any longer, they had frat parties and other “cool shit” to be doing.

Blog update

Hi everyone!

First of all, thanks for the insane amount of likes and reblogs on my first story! As a new writer, it's really motivating to see!

Now, for the actual announcement:

I am going to be doing a slight blog rebrand.

I will keep reposting hot stories that I managed to archive/find,

However, any (new) original stories you will on my side-blog:

-> Derek's TFs

Hope to see you will all follow me there as well.

Thanks again for all the support

Dissolving Swim Shorts

Inspired by a video I saw

Tanner was a lonely college freshman. Thin, nerdy and very body shy. He was surprised there were very few clubs at his school, it seemed like all of the guys were in the frats or sports. He felt self conscious seeing all of the bigger guys in the halls wearing tight revealing clothing to show off their muscles and hair. One day he found a package outside his dorm, which contained a bathing suit, a tank top and an invitation to a big frat pool party. The invitation said the outfit had to be worn to be admitted, Tanner sighed. Even a sleeveless shirt made him feel uncomfortable showing off his skinny arms and lack of body hair. But he was lonely and bored so he forced himself into the suit, noticing the material felt oddly light and strange to the touch. He shrugged it off and put on some shoes and went to the party.

He made it to the gate where two large frat boys in just swim trunks stopped him.

"No shoes bro, only the outfit you were sent, thats the rule".

Tanner felt his face reddening but he had already come this far. He tossed off one shoe and then the other, revealing his small, pale feet. The guards took the shoes from him and waved him in. As he went past they laughed and tossed the shoes in the garbage knowing he wouldn't need them anymore. Tanner quickly noticed he was by far the smallest guy there in a crowd of hairy studs all flexing, chest bumping and playing beer pong. He wandered around near the pool when a pair of hands suddenly hit his chest hard sending him toppling in. He looked around at all the smiling frat boys who stared at him with looks that said they were expecting something. He looked down in horror to see his shirt melting off. His small nipples, flat stomach, all bare. He raised his hands meekly to cover himself only causing the other guys to laugh.

"Show off show off!" They chanted.

Tanner felt an odd heat and pressure as if the pool was warming up. His hands were starting to be pushed away from his chest as his pecs grew! Muscles ached and expanded until a definitive shelf had formed. His nipples enlarged and pointed slightly down. That wasn't all, his stomach had expanded, hard muscles could be felt there but also a bit of fat like he drank too much or was just lazy between work outs.  Tanner turned a bright crimson, embaressed but also oddly turned on by having this new muscle. His small joy quickly faded though as an itching spread over him. The newly enlarged chest was now sprouting curly brown hairs everywhere! Gross, he thought, muscle was one thing but he didn't wanna end up a hairy frat boy like these guys! He splashed towards the stairs in a hurry, hoping getting out of the water would halt the changes. Just then he felt a rush of water around his privates and saw in horror that his bathing suit had disentegrated.

"Show it off bruh!" One of the frat bros shouted. Tanner let out a loud, deep moan as he felt his dick slowly growing.

"No, no, nooooo" he moaned as it grew thick and hairy, dark hair swirling up around his dick to meet the pelt on his chest before swirling around to connect with his newly hairy ass that had also pushed out into a firm bubble butt. Tanner was overwhelmed with shame. His big, hairy, sexed up body exposed for all to see.  Even his hands and feet had swelled greatly. Hair pushing out on his feet and toes. No way those old shoes would fit now. Not that hed be wearing shoes. Against the embaressment a new thought was fighting to take over.

"Damn, Im hot" Tanner grunted not realizing he had said it aloud. But it was true. As much as he had felt grossed out before a growing part of him loved this big, hairy body.

Sexy.

Thats what he was.

Enough to get any girl and maybe some guys. He needed to show off. A cocky grin grew across his face which had changed to become more angular. A 5 o clock shadow growing in and beaming blue eyes under heavy eye brows. He took a big wet hand and slicked back his curly brown hair with blonde highlights before striding out of the pool, proudly letting his new cock swing between his legs, half erect already from all the hot people at the party. He fist bumped the other guys and grabbed a beer before chugging it. 

"Lets party!"

mrrharper Masterpost

what's up bros

to make this blog a bit more accessible, this is gonna be an index of all of my stories and other stuff connected with me, neatly divided into themes

everything's under this pic of a hot stud

Jock TF

Todd goes to a gym / Academic requirements / A Son, Reformed / Muscles In Chains / The Rookie's Figuring It Out / Headphones In, Guns Out / Waiting For The Roommate / Mandatory PE Class / A Real Jock's Supposed to Be Dumb /

Jock-focused

Under Armour Jock™ / Coach's Process of Developing a Jock / More Loyal, More American, More The Same / Muscle Memory / Inside A Jock's Mind / Script For A Jock / No-Trade Clause /

Cop/Soldier reprogramming

Programming Adjustment / Law, Order and Musk / Personal Muscle, Uniform Included / A Guard Programmed To Control And Obey /

Gym Bro TF (and adjacent)

Gym Bro / Bro Advice / A Workout Break / This Is How You Recruit Gym Bros / Waking Up Huge And Jocked / Empty Eyes, Pumped Bis

Other stuff

Commissions - I am open for commissions. Want me to write you a story? Check the linked post for all the necessary details

#AMA - you can see all the questions I have answered from previous AMAs under this hashtag

Ko-fi page - you can support me and my work on ko-fi

You might like this, @mrrharper