Latest Posts by user211201 - Page 7

3TH93USA

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-09 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Encouraged and spurred on by @mrrharper

The building in front of Nathan was nothing more than a gray warehouse. It was absolutely massive, stretching to either end of the block. Nathan had no idea how far back it went, and with no windows he had no concept of floors either. Nathan considered that it may have been a poor idea to apply after all. The job had been looking for candidates with highly flexible hours and at least 10 years of experience. But Nathan, a desperately-underfunded college student in his final year, was badly in need of some quick cash. Holding his head high, he strolled towards the building's entrance.

Nathan had received a notice of a job opportunity through his email. At first, he had assumed it was some kind of spam, but after reading a bit more discovered it was indeed a legit company. Falcon Security, somewhere Nathan would have never placed himself to be applying for, had not only sent a rather dull email, but had a dull interior. Everything with this company was informative and straightforward, apparently details and color did not matter.

In the open, almost liminal space, Nathan felt as if a spotlight were on him. He had not dressed too flamboyantly, a floral-patterned dress shirt with blue slacks. But he definitely felt out of place in such a starkly-monotone place. Not only that, but he knew he did not fit in. Just under six foot, red hair with freckles, lanky enough to be considered paper-thin, Nathan had to remind himself this job was not based on looks. Falcon Security meant IT, and all he had to say was he looked younger than his actual age. In a few months, he could be gone, the company nothing more than a blip on his resume.

The orientation process was a lot easier than Nathan had expected. After navigating through a few empty halls, he eventually found himself in a large room with a plethora of other men. None of them matched each other, all presumably in desperate situations like Nathan. After a bit of waiting, the presentation began on the huge screen projected opposite of the door.

It was nothing Nathan had not seen before, a male AI voice narrating the company’s background and history. When they began listing some of the more famous companies Falcon Security had aided in the past, Nathan was surprised at how many he recognized. Many names were politically-affiliated, all right-leaning but nothing concerning Nathan. Business was business, and he would be working IT anyway, so he would not inherently be supporting anything he stood against. The one anti-LGBT organization startled him a bit, although he did not show it. As a gay man, he would simply avoid any tasks related to that client. Money had influenced his standards a lot, but not to the point of changing his morals.

Once the presentation had finished, all the men received a text to their personal devices for their next station. Nathan pulled out his phone and after looking around, began to follow the other men out of the room. They herded down the hallway, passing by the different facilities available in the building. A cafeteria, restrooms, a huge gym with a few people the size of bodybuilders already hard at work. Nathan was beginning to think this was some kind of complex. Once they ventured past the sleeping quarters with bunk beds galore, questions formed as to how hard the company would be working him.

Eventually, each of the men began diverging off into different directions, finding their corresponding rooms. Nathan tried to remain optimistic of the situation, following along the instructions from his phone. Third floor, hallway T, room H93. It took a little strength to open the door, Nathan assumed it had to have been made of some metal. He entered his room and heard the door click shut behind him. Room H93 was small, with nothing in it but a chair facing away from the exit. Once Nathan took a seat, the projector lit up.

“Welcome to Falcon Security,” the male AI voice announced. “The following education supplement is broken into three segments.”

Nathan peered around the room once more, finding it strange as to why he was separated from the other men for this portion of the orientation.

“Cerebral Manipulation activated, engaging Cleanse.”

Suddenly, Nathan was bombarded with a combination of blinding visuals and piercing audios. The projector was strobing violently, quickly flashing colors back and forth and scorching his eyes. The speakers out of Nathan's sight were blasting discordant notes, the high pitches scrambling his neurological pathways. He immediately shut his eyes and went to cover his ears, trying to tune it all out, but the damage had already been instituted. Overwhelmed by the stimuli, his brain carried out the emergency function, shutting itself off completely. Nathan’s hands dropped to his sides as his mouth hung open, staring lifelessly at the paralyzing screen before him.

“Cleanse complete, Cerebral Manipulation disengaged.”

Nathan made no movement as multiple ceiling tiles lifted up, revealing vents. He continued to stare ahead, no thought forming in his emptied mind.

“Physical Manipulation activated, engaging Vapor.”

Slowly, a hiss began to sound out from the vents opened within the ceiling. A reddish gas softly descended from the ceiling, filling up Nathan’s room in a minute. Before long the air had completely left the room, leaving Nathan’s mindless husk to breathe in the pure red fumes.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics,” the AI rattled off. Through the red haze, the projector booted up a loading screen with an array of fields.

HEIGHT - 75 Units

WEIGHT - 200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 12%

MUSCULATURE - 85%

FEET - 13 Units

PHALLUS - 9 Units

LIBIDO - 80%

HAIR (B) - 67%

HAIR (C) - 1B0C05

EYE (C) - 200C05

Although Nathan could not recognize it, these inputs were standardized by the company.

“Vapor engaged, activating Reactor.”

A relaxer began to escape, mixing thoroughly with the red fumes already present in the room. Carefully slinking down, it eventually slithered up Nathan’s nostrils and tickled his brain. Triggered, Nathan began taking larger, deeper breaths, thoroughly absorbing the red gas.

The effects of the vapor rapidly assimilated into Nathan’s system. His bones began to crack, his tendons and ligaments shifting and expanding. The edges of his tight outfit grew taut, threatening to rip before a laser quickly scanned the room, erasing every article of clothing. Now naked, Nathan’s body was free to grow in any direction it needed. And it did, stretching out across the chair as Nathan evolved. With each filtrating breath, Nathan pumped himself larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’3.

Nathan's muscles continued to bloat as the vapor was continually absorbed into his systems. His once lanky body was broadening: longer legs, longer torso, longer shoulders. His calves and upper arms swelled with power, thickening and plumping with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, now along with his new eight abdominals bolstering immense durability. Nathan’s backside curved outwards, better filling in his seat while his hardware up front enlarged into a thick 9 inches. Although not in a conscious state, Nathan separated his legs to accommodate for his new, massive bundle, his toes inching forward as his feet puffed out into a sturdy Size 13.

Nathan’s head arched back to allow the remainder of red gas to be consumed. His neck distended to accommodate for the emerging Adam’s apple, his vocal chords thickening to create a deeper tone. His jaw and cheekbones jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow. In a flash, Nathan’s roots and eyes darkened into a steep brown, tainting his hair as it pulled into a tight crew cut. The rest of his body adapted accordingly, his skin tone tanning slightly before being washed over with dark hair through the pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and throughout his arms and legs.

The last of the red fumes disappeared down Nathan’s nasal passages, coating his more masculine jaw with a well-maintained beard. The AI voice confirmed this completion.

“Vapor installed, engaging Auxiliary Supplements: 3TH93USA.”

AGE - 29 Units

When Nathan had applied, he had not met the company’s standards of employment. This forced Falcon Security to take the necessary action of moving him to meet the minimum experience requirement. A small tube appeared from one of the open vents directly above Nathan. With his head in position and mouth lazily ajar, the pipe distributed seven blue drops directly down Nathan’s throat. He did not have to swallow, the liquid absorbing on impact.

After a moment, the aging began to show. Nathan’s muscles stiffened slightly, toughening after more years of constant conditioning. His body odor grew denser, his voice gruffer. His libido remained the same, but now served a different purpose. It had matured into a machine for fertilization, built for a purpose rather than for pleasure. As the tiniest beginnings of frown lines formed, the process moved forward.

“Auxiliary Supplements complete, Cerebral Manipulation reactivated, downloading Cognition.”

The ceiling tiles lowered, the vents closing as the screen booted up with new diagnostics.

“Displaying mandatory characteristics.”

CEREBRAL CAPACITY - 20%

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 73 Units

SUBORDINATION - 95%

AGGRESSION - 90%

INTERPRETATION - 15%

INDEPENDENT ANALYSIS - 10%

Uploading SECURITY package…

Uploading SELF-MAINTENANCE package…

Installing CODE RED

“Download complete, engaging Cognition.”

Once again, the room was filled with the blaring visual and audio combination. Because Nathan’s brain had already been turned off, the repetition now triggered the opposite effect. Soon, Nathan’s mind reanimated, becoming coherent to his surroundings. His former self had been deleted, leaving an open canvas ready to become something completely new. Before Nathan could become cognizant and recolor his gray matter, the program instituted new effects.

Delicately, the strobing lights and screeching notes were honed into the background. New media quickly infiltrated the pattern. Flashes of words and phrases flashed the screen, branding Nathan’s mind. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men burst through Nathan’s retinas, establishing only one precedent. Mixed in were scattered opinion pieces to erect the bare minimum of personality features. Pictures of conservative leaders, Christian motifs, and clips of straight sex, enough to align with the company’s agenda.

“The company is always right,” “The clients are always right.” A male narrator had begun instructing different phrases into the room. His words crawled into the open crevice of Nathan’s shrunken brain, filling up the emptied space. “Every guard is completely loyal to the company,” “The company never makes mistakes.” Every instruction repeated over and over, accompanied by the images of Falcon Security and their work.

Nathan had been wrong to assume the Falcon Security had been an information technology firm. The company was actually a high-tech, military-grade safeguard who prided themselves with muscles promising complete protection, surveillance, and performative obedience. When they had discovered their investors in conservative businesses, they tailored their focus a bit more, pledging their guards would not only work for them, but vote for them too. Focus groups and trial operations provided them with the perfect formula for their clients.

In an instant, the program went into overdrive. The male AI returned, drilling “Ejaculate, Ejaculate, Ejaculate,” over and over. The stimulation exploded Nathan’s brain with ecstasy, his cock rising directly up and pulsing with excitement. The images on the screen ran twice as fast, the audio tracks looping quicker. With a manly grunt, Nathan howled as his swollen weapon blasted the remnants of his former will across the room. The laser from before returned, erasing the ejaculation and covering up the newly transformed guard in the company’s in house uniform: black sweats and a black cap

Blinking, 3TH93USA stood up as the door to the room opened behind him. He marched out of his room, the other new guards like fraternal clones of him doing likewise. They all filed down to the halls back to where they had come from. Some steered off into the cafeteria, others navigated to the sleeping quarters. 3TH93USA was one of the few who arrived in the gym, beginning his workout immediately as instructed. Security was his function, and if he was not doing that, then 3TH93USA was either eating, maintaining, or sleeping.

3TH93USA began his pull up routine as a few men in suits walked by, looking in on the gym.

“One needs a soldier, completely obedient and always following orders,” one of the businessmen stated. “Each of our men are customizable, programmable to any of your needs. Their only purpose is to be a security guard.”

They watched on as 3TH93USA continued his workout, no other objective in his mind.

Swapsidite stone

--- Originally posted on 2019-10-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

ROMAN’S PERSPECTIVE

“Come on Roman, let’s get to work.”

I kicked off my small shoes and sulkingly walked into Mr. Jefferson’s house. I was still embarrassed that I had scratched his car during a neighborhood soccer game. All the other kids in the neighborhood were playing soccer with me, yet here I was, the only one who had to pay up. Just because I was the one who ran into his car and scraped my cleats across his door shouldn’t mean that I have to make it up to him all alone. I mean, how much can one twelve-year-old do anyway?

At least Mr. Jefferson was a pretty cool dude. He let me off fairly easy, saying that I just had to come over for one day and help around his house. He had moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, buying the entire rambler to himself. I’d always hear my parents talking about him, how they feared he was growing a little too old to stay a bachelor. I’d seen a few women come over to his house and stay the night, but no real signs of commitment. He seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe already in his 40s, the guy was definitely past his prime. Unkempt beard, flabby stomach, and poor choice in clothes, he wasn’t the best looking neighbor on the block. I didn’t know much about fashion, but everyone knows that the dress shirts, jeans, and flip-flops don’t go together. He even had a weird-looking necklace on, something I’d never seen before today.

No matter what I said about his body or clothing, my opinion was rather meaningless. Still waiting for puberty, my short, skinny, and hairless body wasn’t anything special. I wore a bulky football jersey and mesh shorts to make my appearance seem bigger, but I’m pretty sure it just made me look smaller.

Mr. Jefferson led me to his kitchen and showed me a stack of boxes.

“I need you to bring all of these downstairs,” he said in a deep voice, “I don’t have much for you to do today, so I hope you remember that, even though I don’t think you will.” He walked towards the living room and out of my view. What did he mean he didn’t think I’d remember this? Was he trying to make a backhanded comment or was he just being honest?

“It’s all super easy, Roman. I promise!” Mr. Jefferson shouted from the other room, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged it off and grabbed the first of the boxes. It was a little heavy, but I’d be able to manage. I walked around the house slowly, the weight causing my stride to be a little off. Once I had eventually found the staircase, I placed the box down and wiped my brow of sweat. It had become a little more than I had expected. Procrastinating the inevitable, I surveyed the area around me. I noticed Mr. Jefferson sitting in a yellow chair--he was in my view, but luckily I wasn’t in his. He held the necklace up to his face, examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. I swear I saw him whisper a few words into it and saw it glow lightly, but before I could focus any more on it, he began to shift in his seat. I quickly picked up the box and, forgetting its weight, marched down the stairs.

— —

I carefully placed the last box down next to the others and ran up the stairs, my mediocre-sized feet making little noise. I walked into the main area, and, after pushing the brown hairs away from my eyes, found Mr. Jackson still sitting in his chair, smugly reading something on his phone.

“I’m done, Mr. Jackson,” I exclaimed proudly, my soft baritone ringing in the room. He slowly got up from the chair and guided me over to my next project.

Mr. Jackson and I had been pretty close these last few years. Ever since that one day I had stupidly run into his car during a soccer game, I had often come over to help with his other chores. Although he was only in his mid-thirties, the single man still had a lot to do around the house. After a while, he began to pay me for my work, persuading me to come over every summer. He even offered me a raise this year, saying that I should get some extra money before college in a few months. I probably could’ve gotten a better paying job, but my personal connection with Mr. Jackson made it hard to turn down. Luckily, it turned out to work for the best.

Ducking under a short ledge, we walked into a small closet behind the main bathroom.

“Alright, Ronan,” Mr. Jackson began, pointing to rolls of paper towels, “I need you to bring these down into the laundry room. Once you’re done with those, come and find me again; I’ll be in the same place as usual.”

Being that both Mr. Jackson and I were the same height, he didn’t have to grab anything down for me. He walked off as I grabbed the first few rolls, being able to fit a decent amount in between my large palms and toned arms. Over the school year, I made sure to start the healthy habit of working out, hoping to get ahead of the freshman fifteen. I had never really gotten into sports through high school, but I made sure to keep my body through the school gym during my senior year. It took me a while to start working at it, but progress eventually began to show. After only a few months, my body had firmed up with the beginnings of abs and some perceptible biceps and triceps. It wasn’t much, but I was fairly proud of myself. It also made an impression on my boyfriend, which became an extra motivator for me.

I strolled out of the closet and walked back towards the staircase downwards. I saw Mr. Jackson sitting in his chair again, scratching his small beard as he read a small book. I itched my own stubble with my shoulder as I descended, remembering how I had forgotten to shave this morning.

— —

Once I dropped the last load into the laundry room, I guided myself up the stairs, ready for the next assignment.

“Next thing?” I shouted as I strolled into the room where the other man sat.

“Finished so quickly, Robbie?” He quipped, getting up from his chair. He knew I was going to fly through that job in minutes. I barely had to put out any effort; my military experience made it rather simple to carry everything down.

“Got anything harder for me, bro?” I said, itching my buzz cut. I had just returned after four years in the service, which I had come to realize were some of the best years of my life. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree, I decided to draft myself into the military and spend some time overseas. My parents and friends didn’t approve at first, but after a while they realized it was good for me--and by that I mean my physical appearance.

Coming home to see my parents shocked faces a few days ago was one of the funniest moments I had experienced. When they saw the lumbering, muscular man walk out of the airport, they didn’t expect to hear their names coming from his [my] mouth. The military had given me a rather strict routine, providing me with an impressive 6-pack, defined upper arms, and powerful quads.

After spending some time with my family, I decided to visit my old friend next door. We had gone through most of school together, with my neighbor only two years older than me. I hadn’t been able to spend his thirtieth birthday with him a few weeks ago, so I was making it up by helping him move into his new house. He had bought his house from his parents, now owning the very place he grew up in. Assisting my old friend reminded me of when we were younger and I scratched his parents’ car during a game of soccer. I can still vaguely remember all the chores I had to do that day to pay for the damage.

“Since you’re so good at this,” he snarked, “I think I’ll give you something a little more difficult to do.” We both walked to his front door and, after grabbing my average-sized shoes, made our way to the backyard. I had been over here plenty of times, the two of us spending hours here when we were little, but now it looked almost completely different. The old playground and slide were removed, now replaced with a disheveled patch of grass and a modern fire pit. Where once stood the garden was now a brand new shed, and as my neighbor opened it, I realized it was where he stored all of his seasonal gear.

“I’d love it if you could mow the lawn for me,” he began, “it’s never really been my thing.” He smirked arrogantly, knowing I’d do anything he said because I missed his birthday. I pulled out an old lawnmower and pushed it out of the shed, my old friend had already gone back into his house. I adjusted my jersey, which fit perfectly tight on my frame, and pulled at the engine. The motor revved up, purring obnoxiously as it began. Although I was very athletic, mowing was still such a bore. As my long legs glided across the yard, I reminded myself to never miss another one of his birthdays again.

— —

I brushed over the last part of the lawn and let go of the brake, causing the motor to stop. I brought a palm up to my sweaty forehead, pushing the black hair back back on top of my head, revealing my receding hairline. I still can’t believe I agreed to mowing for Jackson--the guy’s no older than 25 afterall. He had the body for it too: we had worked out together before, so I knew he was fairly toned.

Then again, I had no problem at all with the physical exercise. Ever since returning home from the military 12 years ago, I had made sure to keep my body in shape. My muscularity isn’t exactly what it used to be (age does that), but I still take a vast amount of pride in my work. I still have the torso, arms, and legs of a football player, but now with the firm maturity of adulthood. I also still have the libido of a football player; no one told me that your cock gets meatier as time passes.

After pushing the lawnmower back into the shed, I made my way to the front of the house. I opened the door, kicked off my large shoes, and made my way to the living room. There, sitting comfortably in his yellow chair, was Jackson, reading his phone once again, his shirt lying on the floor.

“I was hot,” he replied, seeing my confused face. His voice was smooth, deep and youthful.

“Alright,” I said before yanking off my shirt, revealing a shaved, muscular torso with a black treasure trail. Bulging arms and wet, hairy pits also became visible to the world.

“I’m hot too.” The smell of my sweat and odorous armpits began to flood the room.

“I think I’m done with you for today, Richie,” Jackson muttered before plugging his nose, “but I think you do need a shower.”

“What?” I replied sarcastically, my deep, gravelly voice shaking the room, “You don’t like the smell of this?” I brought my furry underarm up to his face and shoved him playfully. I’ve known him since he was born, so we’re almost as close as we can be. I was already in highschool when he was born, and, being the neighbor, I became his babysitter. As the years flew by, babysitter became friend, workout buddy, and brotherhood, so teasing him with my pungent body odor wasn’t anything new. I knew he didn’t like it because he was straight, but I loved it. Being a homosexual, and a top, made dominating very erotic for me, but Jackson had no idea of my true sexuality. That was why I had to hide my giant boner as he found his way out of my pit.

“Ha!” I guffawed, “Now your going to smell like my pit sweat all day long.”

Jackson glared at me furiously, my beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go take a shower before I kill you,” he said, pointing to the master bathroom.

“Oh, sure,” I retorted before walking off. He could never beat me: I was a man still in his prime. As I stripped myself of my clothes and stepped into the shower, I quietly stroked my dick. Once I got home, I’d have to furiously beat one out like many nights before, probably once again to the thought of Jackson.

— —

JAX’S PERSPECTIVE

I still can’t believe it worked!

With my life lately going to hell, this was my last, desperate choice. Nevertheless, it’s surprising that I even found the necklace in my basement; the people who had lived in the house before must have left it.

When I had found it a few days ago, there was a little note attached describing the name and purpose of the necklace. According to the description, the Swapsidite Stone, the strange chunk at the bottom of the necklace, would switch one of your traits with another person. The trade off however was that whatever you’d swap, the other person would receive double the original bargain. For example, if one person had decided to take a quarter of someone else’s intelligence, the first would receive the quarter bargained for, but the other would dumb down so much that it would seem like the first had taken half. As an added factor, only the person who had the stone one remember their own swap, the rest of reality would change accordingly. That was why I had to consider what I would take and give to someone else.

A few days after I had found the necklace, Roman scratched my car. It was only a coincidence, but I knew it was the perfect time to strike. It took me a while to figure out what I would trade between the two of us, but after a lot of thought I figured out what I desired the most: I wished to redo my past and find a woman to love. I regretted that most of my life I had remained a bachelor, and know was my time.

I decided to trade 20 years of my age to Roman, which meant that he would receive 40 years in total. I felt bad at first, but as I saw him change and reality adjust around us, I began to care less. I had gone from Mr. Jefferson, a 38-year-old loser, to Jax, an 18-year-old stud, in the course of one day, and the best part was that the changes were permanent. I was so excited that as soon as I saw the stone darken to its finish, I stripped down to my underwear and sat back in my chair. I now had the body of a high school jock: thick muscles, blonde haircut, pronounced pouch--it was perfect.

“Hey!” I heard a gruff voice shout from the bathroom, “Where did we put the towels?”

“Back counter!” I yelled back, my voice now a lighter baritone with a more innocent tone. As I sat in my chair, a large, older man walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Usually, the sight of a naked man would disgust me, but right now I was completely enthralled. In front of me stood a true adonis.

The man, who was now 52, had the body of an alpha male. Strong forearms, calves, and hips were brought together by incredibly large biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Not only that, but there were a powerful set of abs hiding beneath two massive pecs, adorned with large nipples. The man’s face showed lines of maturity along the forehead, which were easily visible thanks to his recently-gelled graying hair. The beginnings of a beard also framed his lantern jaw, its shape just as perfect as the ridges of his collarbone. The last thing I noticed was the military academy ring he wore on his left hand, which lay in front of his graying pubes. I assumed there was both a massive dick and large set of balls hiding right underneath.

“What are you looking at?” his husky voice rumbled.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I lied dumbly. Before I could react, he leaned over and snatched the necklace of my neck.

“And what have we got here?” he asked, looking at it oddly.

“Oh, just something I found in the basement,” I replied, giving him half the truth.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it on?” he requested, catching me off guard.

“Sure?” I responded cautiously. He placed the necklace around his neck and smiled smugly.

“This is the Swapsidite Stone, correct?” He already knew the answer, but before I could react he had already muttered something into the stone. The stone began to shine dimly.

“Richard, I can explain, if you’d just-”

“Jax, I know you did something to me. I have no idea what you traded, but at least I know that you did something.”

“But Richard, I-”

“It’s Sir to you.”

“But, Sir-” I froze. Why had I just listened to what he had told me?

“I’ll tell you what I swapped between us, because it won’t matter soon enough.” ~~Richard~~ Sir pulled up a seat from across the room and sat right across from me. He placed the towel aside and let his naked body hang free, his enormous cock standing tall.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since you entered high school. I’ve known you since you were born, I’ve raised you, I’ve made you who you are today, but now I’m going to make you into who I want you to be. You’ve never appreciated what I’ve done for you, so I’ll make it that way.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He was referring to the new reality, while I was still living the old, causing me to have no way to respond.

He took a deep breath before continuing, his tone becoming more serious, “You see, you stupidly left the description card in the bathroom, not even thinking about me finding it. Once I got out of the shower, I finally figured out why you were wearing that ugly necklace. Now it’s my turn to trade and I think you’ll like what it is.”

I tried to get up from the chair, to run away, but I was stuck. It was like I had no control.

“I’m taking half of your dominance. You know what that means right? I’ll become 150% the alpha male.” He leaned over closely, his hot breath on my cheek.

“And you’ll lose all free will. WIth this, I’ll be able to change anything about you that I want, no magic stones needed. Oh, and just to be safe,” he ripped the necklace off his neck and crushed the small stone between his hands, never to be recreated again.

“So I hope you remember that,” he smirked, leaning back, “even though I don’t think you will.”

— —

Something was poking at my hole, and I had now idea what. I slowly opened my eyes, finding a hairy forearm draped over my side. The smell of my dad’s body odor and cum poured from the sheets like a flood, almost as if they had been washed in them. Memories of the pounding dad gave me last night came into my head, causing my miniscule dick to harden. I remember my dad telling me that although it was almost as big as his, it was tiny. I knew he was right--he is always right.

“Morning, Jax,” I hear my dad groan as his dick pushes further inside of me. I moan as he begins to push in and out. This is how mornings usually go: waking up to the smell of old sex, discovering how intelligent and arousing my father is, and then him filling me with his cum. It was always a pleasing cycle.

About ten minutes later, after my insides were filled with his semun. I got up and went to go make breakfast, still in my birthday suit. It only took me minutes to prepare a protein shake and some eggs for my dad. It only took seconds for him to come clomping down the stairs with his abnormally large feet. He always had to specially order his shoes.

Before sitting down, my dad, who was also naked, brought a dirty cup to the tip of his penis and began to piss. A dark, yellow stream dripped in until it was full to the brim.

“Drink up, son,” my dad said as he handed me the cup, “it’s good for you.”

I greedily slurped the steaming liquid down my throat. It was going to be a long day of work ahead, so I had to eat and drink healthy. There were chores to do, dirty laundry to sniff, and fathers to please. I was excited to do it all.

Here's to 28!

--- Originally posted on 2019-06-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

Not only was it the final day of my senior year, it was my birthday, and my plan was nearly complete. After thorough research through numerous different libraries, online sites, and a few difficult equations, I was finally going to get everything I had dreamed of for the big 18!

It had all started in early March, a little while after the tennis team had begun their practices. The sun was shining, the snow was finally melting; spring was upon us. However, it was only about 50 °F, so when I walked by and saw that Julian Richardson, the varsity team captain, was wearing nothing but some skimpy running shorts, all I could do was bite my lip in frustration.

One of the top jocks in the highschool, Julian had everything anyone could have wanted; great looks, tons of money, extremely popular, etc. He looked much more like a senior in college than one in high school. Not only did he have the brawn, but the brains too. He was part of many different clubs outside of athletics, he was even the vice president of the Mathematics Leagues in our state. Now all of this definitely made me jealous, but the worst part about him was his pride. As stated millions of times by not only himself, but his sexual conquests too, he was 100% gay. He was extremely proud of it, so much in fact that he wore something to showcase it everyday. Today, it was a stupid wristband that I noticed as he adjusted his luminous blond hair. Growing up in a good-old, traditional American family, I knew that everything about Julian was against what my Christian beliefs had told me, and it was my job to try and stop it.

After seeing him, I began to rush home, eager to begin my research. Right before I got to my house, I heard a voice call out to me.

“Hey, Jake!” My neighbor, Michael, emerged off his porch, “You look like you’re in a rush.” Michael was a man in his late forties, but he certainly didn’t look like it. He was blessed with decent genetics and regularly visited the gym so he was fairly defined. He had always lived in the house right next to mine as long as I could remember, yet he had always lived alone. He took trips out of town every now and then, and sometimes he had friends over who’d stay the night. I was closer with him when I was little, but as I ventured into adolescence we grew more apart. Something about his, lifestyle, seemed a little off to me.

“Yeah,” I said, a little flustered. I must have been going faster than I had thought. “I have a new… erm… game that I’m excited to play.” My conscience had always made it hard for me to lie.

“Oh, well, hope you enjoy it.” Michael seemed a little suspicious, but just shrugged it off and walked back to his porch. After he turned away, I rushed into my house and ran up to my room, excited to begin. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for it to load, I looked out my window. I had a nice view of Michael’s house, but beyond that I could see the entire town.

Once I had finally logged into my computer, I began my project. First, I had plans to try and find dirt on him before publicizing it, but after hours spent on looking through countless websites, I found nothing. Then, after the original failure, it occured to me what I had to do. If I wanted to fix him, it had to be me in charge - I can’t trust him to change his ways. My next plan began to develop right before my eyes.

Over the next week after seeing Julian at tennis practice, I researched multiple different options. Body swapping, transformation, disappearance. After some heavy searching, I finally landed on genetic displacement. In this process, I would have to create some weird liquid concoction with strange ingredients that I’d never heard of before, combine it with some form of DNA from the intended victim, and then drink it. Then, over the course of a few minutes, the DNA from the victim would rapidly multiple and displace the DNA of the drinker, causing a genetic shuffle that would eventually change the entire body of the drinker and make them look like an identical copy of the victim permanently. I would look like his identical twin, but I’d still have my mind, personality, and soul. The directions were simple, but I just had to make sure I got everything right because the side effects looked insane. Stuff about brainwashing, amnesia, personality disorders, and other terms I couldn’t even pronounce threw me off, but as long as the victim and drinker were less than 2 years apart in age, everything would be fine. Luckily for me, Julian and I were born on the same day, which was another reason why I hated him.

The next three months rolled by. A few purchases of various items with strange names, rigorous searching to find them, and plenty of studying had lead to the last day. Luckily, my immense intellect made everything easier. For some reason, the ingredients always came a day or two late of the planned delivery, but that’s just the black market I guess. I had lurked in my room for hours on end, with the sun slowly descending through my window as I worked away. I really should have shut the shades to block out the light, but I never bothered too. I finally had everything ready by the last day of school, and all I had to do to finish the final part of my plan was to find a fresh piece of Julian’s DNA.

The last day of school was fast. I didn’t really pay attention to my finals or others; I was just too excited to finally finish my project, and the fact that everyone was celebrating Julian’s birthday instead of mine made it all the more unbearable. Finally, the end of the day came and students rushed out the doors. I calmly stayed behind, lurking a safe distance behind the tennis team. They had a short practice today, so this would be my only chance to snag something of Julian’s. As I saw the players casually hit the balls between courts, I snuck my way into the men’s locker room. After a minute of looking around, I finally found Julian’s rainbow sports bag. I dug my hand in, a little disgusted to be groping around another man’s dirty clothes, but eventually I found something. In the bottom of his bag was an old, white sock, obviously worn out from wear. It was pretty big in my hand, and - disgustedly - I brought it up to my nose for a timid sniff. I reeled back, getting a putrid scent of male foot and sweat, it was definitely fresh. As much as I hated to think about it, this nasty sock had enough DNA seeped into it for my concoction. I tossed it in my bag and ran home, sprinting the entire way, ecstatic that all my work was about to pay off.

After running between my room and the kitchen, I was finally ready to finish my project. Neither of my parents would be home tonight, so I had the house to myself.The sock and other ingredients sat all on the counter, ready to be mixed together. All I had to do was blend all of the components together without the DNA, and then pour it into a pot and boil it. After that, I’d throw the DNA in and (after letting it cool) drink it down, holding my nose shut of course. Then I’d find somewhere to sit and get comfortable, because apparently your body would freeze up until the transformation was finished. It took me a while to combine all of the ingredients together, and once it was mixed together it looked like a slushie without syrup. I ran over to the stove, ready to turn it on, but was met with a large sticky note on the dial.

“Oven broken?” I angrily read out loud, “No! How is this possible?” I quickly thought to myself how I could boil the concoction. I had to do this today, otherwise the DNA would become old. Sadly, only one idea came to my mind, but it was the only one I could think of.

“Jake!” Michael exclaimed, opening his door, “How can I help you?”

“Hey, Michael,” I smiled courteously, “I have a favor to ask.”

Michael led me into his house as I described that I was making a present for my mother’s upcoming birthday, but my stove wasn’t working. He graciously offered his and said that I could come by whenever to use it until mine was fixed.

“I have to go get something from the backyard, but if you need me I’ll be right upstairs afterwards.” He smiled as he opened the backdoor and left. I quickly fired up the stove and place the small pot a burner, happy that I’d finally finish. As I the concoction began to bubble, I realized something was missing: the sock! I carefully took the pot off of the burner and ran back to my house. As I sprinted past, I saw Michael walking back in, smiling as I dashed past. I burst through the front door and flew into the kitchen, grabbing the sock before running back. As soon as I got back to Michael’s kitchen, I pushed the pot back onto the heated burner and threw in the sock right as it began to boil. I stirred the liquid until I no longer felt anything solid in the liquid. Then, I took a cup from the cupboard, threw in some ice, and poured the soup-looking drink into the cup. The drink cooled down instantly, almost filling the cup.

“Here’s to 18!” I held my nose shut, said a quick prayer, and drank it all down in one go.

Once the drink was gone, I let out a huge belch. I quickly cleaned up the mess I had made in Michael’s kitchen and got ready to leave. I had to be fast enough to get to my house so I could transform in private. Right as I was about to walk out the door however, my conscience got the better of me. It would only take me a few seconds to thank Michael and then I could ditch. I dropped my things and walked upstairs, going towards the only room that had a light on. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly peed myself. Sitting right on the edge of the master bed was Michael, taking a picture of himself in the mirror, only wearing a tight, blue athletic shirt and a snug pair of underwear.

“Oh, you must be ready,” Michael said, taking note of my presence, “Do you like what you see?”

All I could do was keep staring at Michael, his body the perfect male specimen. For a man just under fifty, somehow he had maintained the body of an adonis. For some reason, I couldn’t look away, all I could do was stare.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Michael slowly walked over to me. I knew something was wrong, but for some reason I couldn’t move. The transformation must have just begun! He slowly stripped off all of my clothes as I stood there. As he slowly worked off my clothes, I could smell his natural musk emanating from his body. Once he was done, he lifted me up and placed me in a chair. Once he was done, Michael sat in one across from me, manspreading to show who was in charge.

“So, I expect you’re quite confused right now,” he said calmly, smirking, “but that’s alright, I will explain everything while you transform.”

My eyes widened. How did he know my plans? Did I make it obvious?

“First, let’s start with the fact that you should keep your blinds shut from prying neighbors, like me.” He motioned towards his own, which were shut, “After a week or two, I got curious as to why you were always up so late, so concentrated on your computer. Your lying is pretty pathetic, so I knew something was up, so I began to dig.”

As he spoke, my legs began to stretch out. My body was slowly pushed up into the chair as my calves pushed themselves apart. Muscle began to crawl across my legs as my thighs and quads became thick and strong, letting small veins pop out. My butt also plumped up, muscle filling in my rear and giving me two firm globes in the back. As my legs and butt finished strengthening, hair erupted all across the surface. It started out fairly blond, but then darkened to a more mature brown. I thought Julian had all blond hair, but I’ve only ever seen him from a distance so it must have just looked lighter.

“Next, I began to do a little investigation into what you might be doing. When the first package was being delivered, I caught the mailman and told him there had been a mistake and that the packages where supposed to go to me. After some heavy convincing, he finally obliged and all the packages went to my house before I dropped them off at yours.”

My chest began to bulge out, expanding tremendously. It too added to my height as abs began to pop into existence, creating a hard, cobblestone path from my belly button to my new pecs. As my pecs created their own shelf on top of my stomach, I felt my nipples perk up as they became slightly larger and more sensitive. Blond hair began to spread out over my torso, before it to darkened to the same brown as my legs. I had never seen Julian with this much hair, but he usually shaved. Plus, he barely every wore a shirt, so that was probably why his chest hair was blond - it must’ve been brown in the winter.

“After carefully opening the few boxes, I had quickly figured out what you were trying to do. Those items were very rare, so when you put them together in a search bar it only comes up with a few options. Once I figured out your plan, I had to figure out who your target was, and let me tell you that was difficult to find.”

As he continued, my arms began to fill out. Strong biceps began to appear as my triceps filled themselves in with muscle. Veins appeared on my forearms as my hands began to grow, becoming firmer and more calloused. Brown hairs also began to crawl along my arms as my armpits began to fill up, getting bushier by the second. I didn’t remember Julian having such hairy armpits, or the awful smell that was now emitting from them, but he must’ve always worn heavy deodorant.

“Once I figured out that you were targeting Julian Richardson, that’s when I decided to get involved. Originally, I was just curious to see what you were doing, but after that I knew I had to stop you. I began to read over the directions and ingredients again and I realized the only way I could tamper it was if I dealt with the DNA.”

My neck began to bulge as an enlarged Adam’s apple began to appear. I coughed a bit, causing my voice to adjust down a few registers. My voice began to also mature, sounding a little older. Although Julian looked much older, he still sounded like a teen with a life ahead of him, so this was strange to me.

“It took me a bit to figure out when you wanted to execute the plan, so when the last ingredient came in the mail a few days ago, I knew I could set you up for the last day of school. Not only would you be extremely excited with your plan about to be finished, but the natural adrenaline from the last day of your high school career would definitely kick in, having you lose focus.”

My head slowly lengthened out, becoming looking more ovular then circular. My jaw became more defined as my teeth straightened out. My nose grew straighter and smaller as a light stubble appeared, giving me a naturally wise look. I felt my hair shorten up and style itself. If I could have looked in a mirror, I could’ve seen my hair and eyes turn brown.

“So, this morning I went over and put a little note on your stove to say it was broken, and with you in your frantic state you never even tried to turn it on. I knew your only option to save your plan would be to ask me, and I kindly obliged. You only brought the pot with you, not even thinking about the DNA, so as soon as I walked outside, I ran over to your house - which you kindly left open - and looked for it. It took me a bit to figure out what I was looking for, but as soon as I saw the sock on the counter I knew what I had to do. I quickly pulled off my shoe, placed my sock in the exact same position as Julian’s, and then put my shoe on and walked out of the house. When you ran past me, I knew you’d be in for a surprise in a few minutes. With all the teenage adrenaline and excitement, you didn’t even notice that the sock was slightly yellower, or the different brand. The best part is, my feet are Size 16, so you didn’t even see that the sock was much larger than Julian’s Size 12.”

Michael held up Julian’s sock in front of my face, just close enough so I could smell it. He smirked as he saw my feet begin to lengthen out along the floor. My toes began to splay out further as my feet became meatier. Thick veins began to adorn the tops of my feet as dark hairs began to appear as well. Michael placed his foot on top of mine, and although I couldn’t move, I could see that looked almost identical, just with mine being younger.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said, before getting up and pulling his chair closer to mine. Once he sat down again, he carefully place his feet on either side of my sack, massaging it. I quickly grew hard.

“I knew that’d you’d have to come up here and thank me, you Christians and your conscience, so I quickly placed myself in a position that would stall you before your transformation begin. And here we are now, where it looks like we are near the end.”

Michael motioned to my pouch, which had expanded almost 4 inches as I had listened to him. I used to be average, but now I must have had almost ten inches of hard, veiny meat. Not only that, but a huge, wiry bush of brown hairs had replaced my previous non-existent ones. My balls were churning, the massage from the large feet making them much bigger and heavier. They looked almost identical to the outline from Michael’s underwear.

“So, now we’re here, I replaced Julian’s sock with mine, but there’s still one part I have mentioned yet. Remember the side effects and rules of this concoction? I bet you do.”

He smirked as my eyes quickly began to shake with panic.

“Now I am much farther than two years from you, so I did some further research into the side effects and it said that the drinker will end up somewhere in the middle, depending on the amount of DNA. The socks were dirty and rank, but it looks like it was not enough to put you into your thirties, but I’d say you’d look like me in my late twenties, so we’ll say your 28, 20 years apart from me so no one raises any questions. That's a good distance for me to be your father.”

I immediately got confused, and it wasn’t only from what he had just said. My mind had begun to feel cloudy ever since he began to massage my pouch. Maybe it was one of the side effects of the conco.... liquid.

“You see, ever since you started distancing yourself from me when you were little, I knew you were straying down the wrong path. You found out why I lived all alone in this house, and yet you would never admit it to yourself. You would never allow yourself to think I was possibly gay, that those trips I would take out of town weren’t work related, or those friends I had over were more than just friends. Well, now I’m going to raise you right. As soon as you release, you’ll black out from all the pent up pressure from me edging you and your transformation will be complete. Once your out, I’ll not only make sure you don’t remember any of this, but I’ll create a whole new life for you. The best part is, I barely have to do any work! With all the side effects of memory loss, personality confusion, and so much more, I can make you into whatever I want you to be. You won’t only be my son, but you’ll be my kinky, dumb lover.”

My pouch was throbbing, begging for release as Michael massaged them with his feet.

“Now on the count of three, you will release and pass out. Are you ready, Jake?”

I tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t. My eyes must’ve shown so much fear, for Michael’s smirk suddenly got wider.

“Three.”

My mind clouded over as I felt my sack tighten.

“Two.”

My body tensed up, I could feel it coming.

“One.”

Michael stopped massaging and gripped my pouch with his feet. I released and then immediately blacked out.

——

I woke up to the sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. My head hurt, like I had just been studying too hard or something. I slowly pushed myself up and noticed a phone laying next to me. I clicked the home button and noticed there was a track playing. All it said was “Final Track.” I wondered what it was playing through, and then I realized I had the earbuds on. There were words and phrases playing on loop. I tried to concentrate, which was pretty hard, but eventually I could make out the words. It was some sort of conversation between jocks.

“Bro, let’s go suck a dick!”

“Yeah, being gay is sick, bruh!”

“And your dad, what a stud, broski, he’s so hot.

“I’d suck his dick any day.”

“He’s so smart too, lucky that you don’t have to do any of the thinking, bro!”

“Yeah, Broseph, you’re so dumb you have a below-average IQ.”

“What’s IQ, bro?”

And then the track ended with the jocks all guffawing at the joke. I chuckled, my deep voice mimicking their laugh. For some reason, I found it funny.

I rolled out of the bed, pushing the blue comforter back. I clomped my huge feet down the stairs towards the kitchen, my hard dick swaying with each step. I walked into the kitchen, where I saw my naked dad cooking food on the stove. His bubble butt swayed as I took a seat at the table, my own naked skin cold against the metal chair. I watched my dad cook, getting harder while I watched his muscled body sway. He slowly turned away from the stove, his dick just above the frying pan. He pissed right into the pan, making sure the bacon was extra greasy.

“Happy Birthday, Jordan,” Dad said as he dropped a plate full of bacon right in front of me, “How was your night?”

“Great!” I said, shoving the bacon eagerly down my throat. He came up behind me and patted my shoulders, his hard cock pushing against my back.

“What did you dream about?” He said, slowly beginning to grind against me.

“Well,” I began, “first it with me with my bro, Brad, and we were heading to town. Then, in came this cute twink who I destroyed, and then it ended with me smelling your shoes while jacking off.”

“A perfect ending to that dream it sounds like,” he said, slowly kissing my neck as he continued to grind. My back became slick with precum.

“Totally,” I shoved the rest of my bacon in my mouth and put my dishes in the sink.

“Where you going?” Dad asked, smacking my butt as I ran up the stairs.

“Got a soccer game in twenty minutes with the bros, it’s for my birthday!” I ran into my dad’s bedroom and looked through the dirty clothes hamper. I grabbed a sweaty gray tee, two black socks, and a pair of sweat shorts that smelled like piss and cum. I smiled, happy with my choice, not even bothering with underwear. Commando always accentuated my pouch better anyway. I ran down the stairs and grabbed my large vans. As a slipped my feet in, they were greeted with puddles of my dad’s piss. Back ten years ago, when I was still highschool, my dad would do this before every game for good luck. He knew I loved it so much that he kept the tradition even after I had dropped out. There was no way I was going to finish, all I’m good for is playing games with the bros and helping my dad whenever he needs it.

“Thanks, Dad.” I said, kissing him before I left.

“Of course, Jordan,” he replied, returning the kiss and grabbing my bulge, “and don’t forget this.” He handed me a fanny pack with the lunch he made me. I quickly looked inside and was happy to see one of his famous homemade protein shakes. He always made sure to make it with natural protein.

“Let me get a picture of you for your birthday.”

“Dad, I’m gonna be late.”

“Listen or I’ll spank you.” It wasn’t really a threat, he knew I’d like it, but I got the message. I crouched in front of our houseplants, showing off my junk.

“Sexier!” My dad said, I shuffled a little more and tried to look smug. He smiled as he took the picture.

“Here’s to 28!”

The Interviews

--- Originally posted on 2021-02-07 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Can you guys believe we actually made it?” Elijah exclaimed proudly. Even as the tallest of the trio at 6’7, he had to arch his back to see the top of the skyscraper in front of him. Elijah had worked hard to get his degree in business, so the prospect in front of him made him feel like he was touching the finish line. He had applied for an interning position in the financial department, and the company had been so impressed with his application that they had set up an interview immediately.

“I will admit, it is pretty incredible,” Dylan added. He was in the middle of the three, having a little over average height at 5’11 and pretty good muscular tone. What really stood out about him though was his voice, for it was a powerful bass that could shake concrete walls and was completely recognizable at any event. He too had applied for an interning position in the financial department, creating a little friendly rivalry between the two.

“I’m still surprised we all made it.” Although Joe was almost a foot shorter than the giant Elijah at 5’7, he made up for his height in sheer body mass. Back in college, he had been the star wrestler of the college, giving him a body packed with pure strength and flesh. One wouldn’t be able to guess it, but Joe was also skilled in another area: accounting. He was so talented in fact that he had actually been scouted out by the company.

“I guess we should head in,” Elijah stated, making his way forward slowly. “If we actually want to work at the Carmichael Corporation, we’ll have to ace these interviews.”

“Oh yeah, like that’ll be hard,” Dylan jeered as he walked through a set of grand swinging doors. “My record is pretty well stacked. I think I have the best chance out of the three of us for this position.”

“Dude, I’m going for accounting.” Joe gave a rough eye roll, before walking off to notify the secretary of their presence.

“And like I have any competition,” Elijah scoffed as Dylan and himself took a seat on a nearby bench. “Once they see that my name was on the Dean’s List every semester, I’ll get in for sure.”

“You only got that because you were the captain of the basketball team,” Dylan mocked.

“Did not,” Elijah hurled back.

“Did too!” Dylan retorted.

“You understand that I actually worked for those grades, right?” Elijah felt himself get heated as his muscles grew tense.

“Oh you worked for them alright,” Dylan mumbled. “On your knees.”

“Excuse me, bro?!”

“You heard what I said, coc-”

“Gentlemen!”

A sharply dressed male was staring down at the two bickering companions. The man was furiously tapping a pen against his clipboard, obviously irritated. Standing tall in front of the two, he was wrapped up in a gray 3-piece suit with a checkered tie that fit well against his sculpted body. His face showed that although he acted superior, he had to be a similar age to the two young men cowering below him.

“My name is Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV, and I am one of the Accounting Managers here at the Carmichael Corporation,” he began pompously, effortlessly taking control of the situation. “If you want to work here at the Carmichael Corporation, the first concept you must learn is respect and decency to and in the workplace.”

“Sorry,” Dylan and Elijah replied in unison, deeply embarrassed and annoyed by the stuck-up prick.

“Now, I assume I will be performing one of your interviews today,” Yale took a moment to look at his clipboard. “Is one of you Joseph Koroll?”

“That’s me.” Joe appeared from behind Yale, surprising the other man a little bit. After checking in, Joe had quickly run to the bathroom to wash his face, finding he had accidentally missed a few hairs when he had shaved this morning. Not noticeable, just a little itchy.

“Exemplary,” Yale responded, causing Joe to give the other two looks that said What’s with this guy?

“Let us make our way to a correspondent room, we have a lot to cover in little time.” Before Joe could comprehend what Yale had said, the other man was already walking towards an elevator. Joe quickly scurried along, waving to his pals before he was lifted up.

“How do you think he’ll do?” Dylan pondered.

“Better than the two of us so far,” Elijah pouted.

— —

“Joseph Koroll.”

“Yes?”

Yale sat straight at his desk, constantly giving off an ill-tempered glare as he peered back and forth between Joe and Joe’s resumé. What made it even more intense was that Yale’s eyes had an oddly captivating color to them. The two sat in a small conference room on the 15th floor overlooking a part of the city below. Joe didn’t feel that nervous–he actually felt quite confident–but the giant yellow chair he sat in made him seem much smaller than he actually was. Even for his muscular figure, he barely filled half the seat, and his head did not make it anywhere near the top. Not only that, but the chair was placed in the center of the room, giving him more attention than he needed.

“I despise that I must admit it,” Yale sighed. “but your experience and credentials are rather splendid.”

“Thank you?” Joe replied back, a little confused.

“If you want to be a part of the Carmichael Corporation however, there are some aspects that must be changed or enhanced.”

“I understand.”

“The Carmichael Corporation is not some urban start-up with jeans and herbal teas. This is a very demanding industry, one that expects all employees to be obedient and loyal.”

“Of course,” Joe nodded along. “That would make sense.”

“I do not know or care what went on at your last position, but if you want to succeed in this company, it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Would you be okay with this level of obedience?”

“Yes sir.” Joe slyly added in the title, sensing he had to accept a power shift.

“That is more appropriate,” Yale smiled. “Now, let us first address the things that need to be changed to be hired. Your attire is the most noticeable facet, as it is unsightly to say in the kindest of terms.”

“Unsightly?” Joe was surprised, finding his red sweater and black slacks quite refined before making eye contact with Yale.

“And that is the kindest of words,” Yale snickered back. “If you want to succeed, you will need to learn how to dress like a man. Let me read you a small excerpt from the company handbook.”

Yale stuck a hand into his bag and pulled out the largest book Joe had ever seen. It had to be at least 1000 pages, yet Yale had no trouble finding the exact description he was looking for.

“Blazers are classic items that work for semi-formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, a blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event. Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit. Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices. Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”

Yale continued, “Supports should be practical and supportive. Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut. Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage. Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous. It is also compatible with tennis and golf; sports you will be expected to participate in and the only sports you will be allowed to play.”

Yale paused and took a deep breath. Once he had finished gathering himself, he looked over at Joe and gleamed with satisfaction. “I believe it is secure to say that you have already anticipated these particular needs of the company. Am I assuming correctly?”

“Yes sir,” Joe quickly replied. He had made sure to dress in one of his casual outfits today, something comfortable yet reputable. Along with a navy blazer that had been hung on the door, Joe had paired his classic navy polka-dotted tie with a blue button-up and wool dress pants. Sheer socks silently encased his Size 11 feet inside expensive-looking Oxfords, while two bright, yellow suspenders and a hefty watch worked as the statement pieces. He’d also made sure to shave his beard into a beautiful stubble, something that really made him seem both masculine and well-kept. Joe had originally been concerned that the look was a little too casual, but the fact that his superior had noticed it brought a smile to his lips.

“Superb,” Yale acknowledged. “If you are hired here, you will be expected to meet a certain standard of fitness.”

Yale once again examined Joe before meeting eyes, causing Joe to respond with a smug look.

“Interpreting what I have seen and read, I suspect you will be engaging in a routine similar to the one when you were in varsity golf?”

“Very similar, indeed.” Joe resituated himself in the chair, sitting a little straighter to truly show off his 6’1 height. His tight clothing did an impeccable job showcasing his muscular build, which wasn’t as massive as a bodybuilder’s but definitely imposing. He kicked up one of his Size 14 feet onto his knee, knowing he could now get a little more comfortable.

“You will also need to adapt to our image of masculinity, Joe. This is something that has an adjusting definition for everyone here at the Carmichael Corporation. Do you understand what I am referring to?”

“Not exactly, sir.”

“To explain further,” Yale eyes had a piercing gleam to them. “the duty of a man is to understand that when lacking in some areas of presence, he must identify other ways to consume the devoid territory. Men are meant to take up a certain amount of space, no matter their stature. This does seem appropriate, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Joe completely interpreted what Yale was referring to. It was only natural that some men had larger presences than others, so it was Joe’s duty to match that same standard. Readjusting in his seat once more, Joe felt his wide, plump bottom jiggling about, consuming the entirety of the extra wide seat. He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a distinct moose knuckle. The fluid movement accidentally made him hard, but Joe knew no one would be able to see his 4 inches.

“Now, I believe the next issue is your tone and speech.” Yale pulled out his handbook once more and flipped to another random page.

“Our manual refers to multiple accessible forms of dialogue, but you will be working with men of all ages from assets and banking within accounting. Therefore, it would be best if you learned how to speak slower and adapt your vocabulary to something better cultivated.”

“Why would that help me exactly?” Joe questioned.

Yale, once again annoyed by Joe’s indecency, glared directly at him before explaining. “It will deepen your voice and give you more presence, which will be extremely helpful in business. You will also be able to use a fuller, more masculine tone–much like my own. I expect that is what you desire?”

“Yes sir.” The words spilled out in nearly double the time they had before. Joe’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke as every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.

“Finally, if you aspire to work at the Carmichael Corporation, it is imperative that you adjust your title.” Yale moved along calmly, not at all caring about Joe’s confusion. “Joe is a very informal name. Lazy and lackadaisical. It sets you up casually in a professional world, agree with me?”

“I guess I don’t know…” Joe muttered, his voice sluggish and insensitive.

“In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression. The men in these industries expect a certain standard of professionality, even in your title. And you must give yourself every possible advantage.”

“Yes, of course sir,” Joe monotoned.

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as your full name, John Millard Koroll.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but that is not-”

“And where is your surname from?” Yale interrupted. “Is it German?”

“No, it is most certainly-”

“Make it German. It will give you a much more asserting presence. And I reckon a suffix would add some competency as well. From now on, we shall refer to each other by our full names to emulate what the atmosphere is like here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Joe was still at a loss over the last few comments. He was starting to feel a little panicked over the thought of losing his own identity to the corporate world, but before he could think any further on the topic, Yale stepped in.

“That will work for you, will it not,” Yale stood up from his chair and extended a hand, making sure to share a mutual gaze with Joe. “John Millard Koehler III?”

“By all means, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.” John Millard’s thick, slow voice drawled out. He got out of his own seat and shook Yale’s hand in a firm motion.

“Splendid!” Yale replied. “Then I can confidently declare that you are precisely what the Carmichael Corporation is scouting for. John Millard Koehler III, you will be starting as early as next week.”

“That is just grand!” John Millard responded cordially. “It is truly an honor, my gratitude, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.”

“The honor is all mine, you will be an illustrious addition to our department.” Yale sat back down in his chair and ushered John Millard to do the same. “Before I dismiss you, let us discuss acquisitions and the baseline salary. Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we want to make sure that you can ‘be audit you can be’.”

The two chortled merrily at the accounting joke before getting back to business, knowing they had a prosperous future ahead.

— —

“It’s been almost an hour,” Elijah exhaled. “Shouldn’t Joe be done with his interview by now?” The two other men were still sitting on the same bench, waiting for anyone to come and greet them like Yale had appeared before. Countless businessmen had passed in front of them, but all of them seemed so eager to work that they didn’t recognize the recently-graduated college students.

“I don’t know,” Dylan replied honestly, twisting a lock of his curly mane within his fingers out of boredom. “I mean maybe this is the corporate world and everything takes a little longer than expected.” He then stretched to loosen up his joints, showcasing the body of a former running back for everyone to see.

“Yeah, but how many questions do they have to ask to see if Joe is a good fit or not?”

“Apparently a lot.” Dylan began swinging his legs back and forth like a child on a swing to entertain himself. The Size 13 canvas shoes went to and fro, hypnotizing him more than they should have. Elijah watched on too, somehow entertained by the small amount of movement.

“Ahem.”

The two young men quickly shot up off the bench, standing solid. In front of them was a brawny man between the pair’s heights. He looked to be somewhere around sixty, as displayed by his slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jaw, and robust torso. His body was brilliantly exhibited in a multi-layered suit, one that displayed every shade from silver to slate.

“I assume the two of you are here for the hiring process, correct?”

The two men nodded their heads quickly.

“Very good.” The man made a quick glance at Dylan and motioned him to follow. Dylan did just that, giving a thumbs-up to Elijah before disappearing down a hall.

— —

“Dylan Pringle.”

“Yes… sir?”

Dylan watched a small smile creep onto the man’s lips after his little addition. There had been a few minutes of back and forth eye contact from Dylan’s resumé and Dylan himself, but he wasn’t feeling too apprehensive. Although the man seemed extremely uptight, Dylan knew there was nothing in his credentials that wouldn’t seem impressive. Plus, the man had already seemed to take a liking to Dylan, as he had been escorted to an expansive office that Dylan assumed had to be the man’s own. It was simply decorated with a few modern black-and-white pictures and two tables lined with retro leather chairs. There were also a few closets and coat racks holding different suits and other formal wear, probably owned by the man himself.

“I must inform you that the position you have applied for has already been filled.”

The sentence came as a shock to Dylan, causing him to twitch a little in his seat. Dylan was so perplexed that he had to examine the man’s eyes carefully to see if he was telling the truth. He was surprised to discover that they had an oddly charming hue.

“I would regard that as a godsend however, as you were not at all qualified for the position.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan’s bass tone became thundering. “I have everything the job requires… and more!”

“Surely you meant to say ‘Sorry Sir, is there another position open?’ as here I thought you were serious about working here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Dylan was once again caught off-guard.

“Hmm, they told me you were more articulate.” The man made a disappointed grimace before moving on. “I was willing to offer you another position working under me rather than in the financial department as it seems you have no competence in the area. That is generous of me, is it not?”

“Yes, definitely sir.” Dylan was relieved that he still had a chance to work at the Carmichael Corporation, especially after applying for a job he never could have performed.

“Good.” The man walked over to a table and grabbed a rather large book. Dylan was able to catch a quick peek as the man passed by, noticing the pages were lined with questions and guides. Dylan hoped these weren’t all going to be used in the interview for the other position.

“There are a few things you will need to learn quickly if you expect to succeed in this business, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Dylan made sure to maintain eye contact to confirm his answer.

“Very good. First, we have a completely reasonable dress code here. I know you may not have expected to wear a suit every day, but it will be required. And by a suit, I expect a minimum of 3 layers in some shape or form.” Dylan cringed in his seat barely, knowing that his black turtleneck and jeans probably didn’t make the cut.

“Sir, are you-” Before Dylan could protest, the man pushed forward.

“I find a certain degree of conformity aids in office morale, is that not fair? I can tell by how you present yourself you also believe this to be true.”

“It is fair, sir.” Dylan agreed. He always made sure to wear multiple articles underneath his blazer, as it made him feel more polished. Even though he was forced to take off his tan blazer at the door, it had allowed him to expose the other garments on his body. These included matching tan pleated pants that graciously showed off his hefty pouch, a white button-up with matching white suspenders that strained heavily against his pecs, and a striped tie that shared the same charcoal color with his wing-tipped derbies. Readjusting his glasses, Dylan waited patiently for the man to continue.

“I believe it is also appropriate to have a strict haircut policy. Your hair is to be cut every two weeks, and I will refer you to my own barber. You will style it neatly and you will use whatever product I chose.”

“Sir, if I may interrupt.”

“No, you may not.” The man glared down on Dylan. “I expect to see comb lines so sharp that even from a mile away a man could tell you know how to use pomade. Understood?”

“Completely, sir.” Dylan felt like this task would be no problem, as he already maintained his hair strictly. Brushing a hand across his scalp, he was delighted to feel his sharp quiff still held stiffly in place with not a single hair sticking out. He also made sure to rub a hand across his jaw, feeling up the sculpted beard contemptuously.

“Now, you recognize that you would not be starting at the top, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Meaning that you would have a certain number of superiors, including myself, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“So to clarify,” the man began, making sure that their eyes met so he could verify. “You would be an inferior male, underneath me and a plethora of other men.”

“Wait, that isn’t-” Dylan’s booming register was somehow once again cut off.

“You will need to present yourself to this position accordingly, but I believe it is fair to say that will not be an issue.”

“That is accurate, Sir,” Dylan replied reverently in a soft, creamy tenor. He understood where he was on the ladder, and how he’d have to act accordingly. Still sitting in his chair comfortably, the 5’7 man brought his legs closer together, allowing the sides of the Size 8 feet to touch. While doing so, Dylan felt his micropenis twitch eagerly inside his tight briefs, sending an excited reaction to the hole between his two jiggly, doughy buttocks.

“You will also be expected to attend to some other needs of mine,” Sir started. “Dry cleaning, note taking, errands, and the like.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“You will be loyal, you will be obedient, and you will be my dedicated servant.”

“Sir,” Dylan’s meek voice began. “What do you-”

“To work and succeed at the Carmichael Corporation,” Sir declared through fiery eyes. “it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.” Dylan was willing to do just about anything that could give him an advantage in business; anything that would make his superiors pleased.

“So with that said,” Sir leaned back in his chair happily, dropping the handbook on the desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “If I were to ask you to, say, change your name, would you do that for me?”

“Yes Sir,” Dylan lied through his teeth. He was willing to do just about anything, but not that.

“Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we like to go by our full titles as they allude to more professional, defined statuses.”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“Let’s first start with Dylan: just a gross, common name. You agree?”

Dylan didn’t, but the thought of a superior changing his name was suddenly tantalizing.

“Personally, I believe you would be more suited as a Dorrance. And for the surname, well,” Sir chuckled wickedly to himself. “Pringle was never an actual name, just a detrimental snack. You would be much better suited with Peabody. Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking. Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.”

Before Dylan could fire back a string of arguments, Sir had ascended out of his throne and extended a strong palm.

“Congratulations, Dorrance Rotterham Peabody, Jr.,” Sir seemed very pleased with himself. “You will be a great fit as my new personal assistant.”

“Thank you immensely, Sir!” Dorrance replied, jumping out of his chair in excitement and eagerly shaking the man’s hand. “How soon may I begin to work under you?”

“Right away, boy.” Sir made sure to emphasize the demeaning word. “I have a few outfits I need you to sort through and approve of, as you know my taste quite exquisitely.”

“Of course, Sir.” Dorrance followed Sir to a table covered in sheets displaying different suits and styles. He immediately immersed himself into the work, separating out the preferable blacks, navys, and grays from the disgusting other palettes. This extremely pleased Sir, so much so that he wanted to reward Dorrance with something special. So, Sir gave Dorrance’s butt a big appreciation swat as he strutted away, causing Dorrance’s ample rump to shudder within his pants as he continued his work.

— —

Elijah grimaced, noticing the time on the gigantic clock inside the main lobby had only moved by a minute. The wait had been a lot longer than he had expected, forcing him to cancel an event with friends and a hookup from Grindr. It had been about an hour since Dylan had been taken away to his interview, and almost 2 hours since Joe’s disappearance. He was concerned about what this meant for them, but he was becoming more concerned about what this could’ve possibly meant for himself. Maybe he didn’t have a chance within the Carmichael Corporation. Elijah was beginning to feel as if the employers had completely forgotten him when a young man magically appeared before him, answering his plea.

The man wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly strained at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch. It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button-up shirt and a gray tie with a subtle windowpane pattern. He carried a briefcase that looked both rather expensive and rather ordinary. The young man stood ramrod straight, his muscular build hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His powerful jaw–while covered in a little youthful baby fat–spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape.

“Elijah Grove.”

“Yes?”

“I assume you are the last respondent today?” His voice was slow and deep, catching Elijah off guard.

“I guess?”

“Do you guess or do you know?” The young man seemed to get rather disgusted by Elijah’s uncertainty. “If you expect to succeed at the Carmichael Corporation, you are going to have to know.”

“I-” Elijah was almost sure he saw the young man’s eyes flash dazzlingly as he began. “I know I am the last respondent, yes.”

“Grand.” The man ushered Elijah to get up and tread closely behind. Following quickly, Elijah was surprised to see that they were leaving the building.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elijah chose his words carefully. “Where are we going?”

“I am fond of conducting my interviews over promenades,” the young man replied. They steered their way around crowds of businessmen as they ventured into the streets, making random turns here and there. “It shows how well you can think on your feet, literally. It is an aptitude you will need to be proficient in if you want to become an Associate like myself.”

“Associate?” Elijah blinked a few times out of confusion, knowing that he had applied to work as an intern in the financial department. Although he was a few inches taller than the young man, he was having a little difficulty catching up, causing him to fall in and out of the conversation.

“Indeed,” the man misinterpreted the question. “I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions and advanced from Junior Associate to an Associate. Fascinating, is it not?”

“Sure.”

The two strolled a little further out of the city, moving away from the busy center where the Carmichael Corporation headquarters stood. They came upon streets a little emptier then before until they finally turned into an old park. It was actually quite beautiful, covered in old knotty trees and overgrown plants. Birds were constantly chirping and squirrels chased after each other like there was no tomorrow. It was also littered in large stones, adding an oddly picturesque feel to it. Elijah was surprised that he had lived in the city for so long and had never once been to this place.

After a while more of walking, the man led them to an old picnic table before turning around and offering a large, rough hand. Confused, Elijah accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones. Elijah had kept his body fit since his high school basketball days, so he was surprised to feel such a sheer strength in the young man’s shake.

“My name is Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.,” the young man stated before placing his briefcase down and taking a seat at the table. “Our interview should not extend too lengthily, as I have some imperative work to attend to after this.”

“What would that be?” Elijah asked earnestly, his jovial tone a major contrast to Keating’s flat, molasses-like demeanor. At 6’7, it was fairly difficult for him to get his skinny legs under the table, but he managed.

“I have been assigned to a downtown acquisition project, a potential development on 520 Porter where we need to clear the lot.”

“Huh, okay,” Elijah strangely got interested. “So what is it that you are removing?”

“Currently the future site of the Carmichael Settlement on Porter is occupied by this park we are lounging in right now.”

“This park?” Elijah was surprised. “But it’s stunning! There’s so much life and nature here. You wanna tear it down?”

“It is an eyesore and it occupies a lot with high economic potential. It is better suited for development.”

“How could you be such a soulless jerk?” Elijah scolded, getting angrier faster than he had anticipated. He began caring less and less about the job and more about his own morality. Sure, Elijah got how important money was, but he didn’t think he would be able to live with the guilt of destroying an animal’s habitat, let alone an entire population’s. “Don’t you understand what you would be doing? The impact this will have?”

“I’m offended by your tone.” Even after being insulted, Keating’s voice still sounded low, slow, and empty. His eyes however seemed to flare up before he continued. “And yes, I understand exactly the impact this will have. It will create a serviceable, profitable property for the Carmichael Corporation, which in turn will compensate me with enough money to survive. That is what any respectable man like you and I would desire.”

“Survive?” Elijah mocked, now getting extremely annoyed that Keating had compared the two of them.

“Obviously.” Keating wasn’t defending himself, but instead explaining what he thought was a common fact. “I just bought a house out in Fenwick, the only neighborhood in this squalid city with expansive acreage, tree-shaded streets, and good schools. It is very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood, especially one with the seven bedrooms, four floors, and private tennis court I required. Plus, I’m working on my country club application. The application fee alone is $50,000. Looking over your records earlier, I had gathered that was something you desired as well, correct?”

“Yes, that is true.” The idea was buried inside Elijah’s mind. Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it was embedded deep, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club. It was always the goal to move out to Fenwick for corporate shark Elijah.

“I am relieved that that is settled.” Keating opened his briefcase to reveal a combination of different documents, papers, and a massive book that Elijah couldn’t believe fit in the bag. Keating proceeded to pull it out and flipped open to a page somewhere in the middle.

“To become an Associate, you will first be assigned underneath me as a Junior before moving up the ladder. You will still make a good deal of money however, so do not feel too unsettled. Do you understand?”

Although they were maintaining a shared gaze, Keating was not able to read the confusion on Elijah’s face.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s correct.” Elijah was here for a position in the financial department, not to be an Associate, so he was embarrassed to point out the error that Keating had made. Not embarrassed enough however to not correct him.

“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects,” Keating answered, once again misreading. “I believe that will be appropriate compensation, am I accurate?”

“Yes, indeed you are,” Elijah replied cheerfully, glad that the issue was all cleared up. He had wanted to start as an Associate right away as he was worried it the Junior position wouldn’t give him the pay he had hoped for, but apparently it wasn’t that far below. Plus, if he did well, he could quickly move up like Keating had.

“Your job will require calls, lots of calls,” Keating droned, his piercing eyes drilling right into Elijah’s. “Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests. A few calls will be less productive, with upset protestors yelling at you about our improvement upon the lot. You will have to decelerate your speech to command attention better. Be direct and contain emotions. You will be better suited to appear calm and in control at all times. There is no need to ever appear energetic or excited.”

The hurling of information confused Elijah. “So you are saying I shouldn’t care about the clients?”

“Yes,” Keating confirmed. “You can try being sympathetic, but you will quickly find that being stern and direct will get them off the line quicker so you can return to work. Based off of what I have already perceived, this will not be a hindrance.”

“Thank you.” Elijah found himself mimicking Keating’s voice: deep, dull, and disinterested.

“There are many perks of the job, including a corporate gym on the fifth floor which I highly recommend you use.” After investigating Elijah’s long, fit body, Keating brought his eyes back to Elijah’s own. “We expect every man to have a sense of presence at the Carmichael Corporation. Currently, you are far from meeting those standards.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elijah responded. It was hard for a man of his height to keep a healthy weight. A high metabolism meant he was always fairly skinny, but he didn’t expect it would be such a problem.

“The gym is a good source of weight training,” Keating continued, ignoring the question. “I personally workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards. You will be expected to maintain a similar routine. It appears however that you already understand the importance of presence, but if you are interested in a tour of the corporate gym I would not be affronted.”

“Thank you, I would be very fond of that.” Elijah smiled politely after his reply, moving his legs a little under the picnic table. At 6’3, it was a little difficult for him to keep his well-defined legs under the table, but he managed. Although he’d left golf after college (and hoped to get back into it with his admission into the country club) Elijah had made sure to keep his body in excellent shape by working out almost everyday. His proof could be seen through the skin-tight quarter-zip sweater and the black khaki’s that hugged his meaty quads and calves.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we do have a dress code, but it is reasonably undemanding.” Keating turned the manual around to show Elijah. The page that Keating had flipped to displayed a model covered head to toe in a full, very dapper yet very posh suit. Elijah’s eyes fluttered quickly before looking back to Keating for confirmation.

“‘Reasonably undemanding’?”

“I would say so. A suit works as the foundation of a man’s future in business.” Keating closed the handbook and placed it back into his briefcase. Elijah could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of Keating’s mouth during the action. “I appreciate that you have already generated this knowledge.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” Elijah flourished, his voice still plodding. Elijah had made sure to pick out an outfit that had shown off all of his best features. First, a drab, beige, perfectly-cut jacket with matching pleated pants, accompanied by a striped salmon button-up that contrasted well against his pale skin. He had matched his coffee-colored tie to similar shaded Size 13 tassel loafers and a pair of bronze supports that were hidden expertly beneath his coat. Finally, he had styled his blond hair into a fashionable ivy-league cut, making sure to also get a fresh shave earlier that morning. Just the thought of himself in the outfit made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 6.5-inch mast.

“There are only a few more things we must address, one being your character and ethics.”

“What is it the company expects?” Elijah asked.

“You must understand,” Keating glared. “the Carmichael Corporation expects every man to share the same morale system. We want a unified front; a collective conscience per say.”

“Alright,” Elijah accepted. “What are these shared values?”

“There are the equitable ideals like marrying a woman of the same class, having an abundance of children, and being a member of good standing at multiple prestigious clubs.”

Elijah sighed to himself quietly while still maintaining eye contact, disappointed in these old-fashioned beliefs.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we also have intimate objectives that stand high above the others. You must want to move upwards on the corporate ladder. You must want to fully commit yourself to your work. You must want to embody everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich. You must want to be every title a man should own: sportsman, fraternity brother, and avaricious. You want money, do you not?”

“Yes,” Elijah confirmed deliberately. “I want money.” This brought a greedy sneer spread to Keating’s face. Elijah felt like a low, deep, and great truth had awoke inside him. Luckily, the Carmichael Corporation’s principles had aligned perfectly to his own.

“Very good.” Keating eyes also seemed to grin wildly. “Now, two imperative adjustments I would personally like to make. The first is your name.”

“My name?” Elijah opposed.

“Yes, you will need something stronger, more outdated to establish yourself as a man of the Carmichael Corporation. Is that not true?”

“Yes, I do believe that to be true,” Elijah suddenly affirmed. “Please tell me what you think my name should be.”

“Your name is not the only dilemma however, but also your nationality,” Keating resumed. “I believe a British origin would give you a brilliant presence. More mannerful, much more respectable, and it would help establish you as a leading man. Plus, a legacy will give you generational value. What do you think?”

“I-”

“But,” Keating cut off before Elijah could even attempt to reply. “I should not be bashful in saying that you already represent all those factors. Care to agree, Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth?”

“Most certainly,” Emerson acknowledged accordingly in a pretentious accent. He was a diligent, hard-working, and prosperous Brit, and those were only the first words that came to his head. Some may have called him smug and arrogant, but he was really just confident and self-assured. He resembled the epitome of a real man, as displayed by his stunning suit that contrasted his tanned skin eloquently. His dark, chestnut hair and beard also gave off a shocking amount of masculinity. Just the thought of himself and his own superiority made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 9-inch mast. He was by no means a repulsive sodomite, but he could admit a handsome man when he saw one. And he was a handsome man.

“So what do you convey, Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.?” Emerson began, taking a stand with his Size 15 feet planted firmly beneath him. “Do you believe I could become a Junior Associate at the Carmichael Corporation.”

“By all means,” Keating replied, getting up and extending a hand forward. “You’ll be a fashionable fit.” They gave a single sturdy shake before finishing their business. While heading towards the exit, they held a light conversation about stocks, each having grabbed a business edition of the Times along the way.

Gripping the paper tightly as they drifted away from the park, Emerson felt almost restless. The idea of stripping away that atrocity of a park to add in a new, profitable site was so thrilling it was mildly arousing. After his success here, Emerson knew he would receive a promotion, which pleased him mightily. Making their way across a boulevard, Emerson watched the Carmichael Corporation’s headquarters come into view, the place where he knew he would accomplish everything he desired.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Four

--- Originally posted on 2019-12-27 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Degrading Investors

Lee Hae-jin slowed down to take a breath, hiking his leg up on the side of a modern statue. He quickly took a swig from his water bottle as he gathered himself, only slightly sweaty after running three kilometers. Usually long runs got him out of an angry mood, but the events of earlier that morning were still lingering about.

It had been a few weeks since the world-wide launch of KOREABOO, with the band becoming huge hit. There music was played almost everywhere, and with multiple Hotel Koreas in almost every country, the Korean population was steadily rising. Over half of Earth’s population was now identifying as Korean, with more converts coming in by the minute. Other races were slowly going extinct as the once dominating ethnicities became minorities. Although many people were coming under Lee’s control, the ones left were becoming annoying, especially two American investors: Theodore Charleston and Bradley Sullivan.

The two were famously known as the “Gateway to the North.” If they invested in you, North America would soon follow. Lee had already conquered the majority of Mexico (or Megsiko as the native Koreans renamed it), but he was struggling to get the United States and Canada to develop his properties. When he met with the power duo, they immediately turned him down with racist slurs. Lee kept in his bubbling anger, but was infuriated that they wouldn’t accept his incredible offer.

Regaining his stance, Lee began to figure out a revenge plan. Of course he had to make them join his side, but he didn’t know how. They wouldn’t listen to his music, and they’d never come near any of his hotels, so he had to find a way to get the Korean influence to them. As he ran back home, a flurry of ideas began to fill his head. Some dangerous, some extra safe. It took him a few minutes to find a plan that would really work, but he finally landed on something that no one would ever turn down.

— —

Theodore closed the door behind him as he walked into his penthouse. It was already late into the night, and he was ready to crash. A man in his late fifties, he was experienced to having absurd ideas proposed to him, but the young Korean lad from earlier that morning was still on his mind. It made no sense, just to open a hotel to spread Korean culture? It seemed to be spreading so fast in other parts of the world, so why would any American want it was his main point. Bradley had quickly agreed with him too, so it had only taken one loud shout of his deep, gruff voice to shut the kid up and kick him out.

Theodore slowly stripped himself of his business clothes, revealing his naked body before he trotted into the shower. His body had seen better days, when there wasn’t as much fat and gray hair and his head wasn’t bald. He silently took a steamy shower before wrapping a towel around his waist and finishing his nightly routine. He had a rough day ahead of him, so he had to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s sake.

As he brought himself over to a large mirror, he noticed a small package lying on his counter. It was decorated in a small green bow, with the box itself being the size of a box of tissues. Theodore grabbed it and began to open the package, not thinking twice about it. It was probably dropped off by one of his maids during the day, as they usually brought his mail in. It was peculiar that it was in the bathroom, but he was too tired to care.

With a small rip, the cardboard finally opened up to show its contents. Inside hid a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container that looked like shaving cream. Theodore signed as soon as he saw the small, Hangul letters on the side, believing the gift was from the Korean earlier that day. He let out a minuscule smile, thanking no one in particular as he grabbed the suitcase. He had run out of toothpaste a while ago, and had forgotten to buy some at multiple opportunities. He wasn’t ecstatic about the gift, but he was slightly thankful. He grabbed an electric toothbrush and, after washing it thoroughly, put on some of the blue cream and began to scrub.

As soon as the toothpaste entered his mouth, his eyes went wide at the appalling flavor. Instead of the traditional mint, he was blasted with the taste of salt. Theodore wanted to spit it out, but he was so desperate for a good brush. He reminded himself to tell a maid to go shopping. He rationalized with himself that it was probably some sort of vegan toothpaste that would do wonders to his health. He hated the taste, but he told himself he could make it.

While Theodore brushed away, he decided to take a seat on his toilet. He grabbed his phone from nearby and began to mess around, not really paying attention to reality. He positioned himself comfortably, not noticing that his legs were slowly spreading farther apart. His lower limbs, which were hidden underneath the towel, slowly pulled in, bringing his height down 175 centimeters. Theodore didn’t realize that his heels no longer touched the floor, and he couldn’t see how his leg and thigh hair retracted to give way to a miniature black forest. His quads and calves exploded with meat, taking away the fat and replacing it with hard muscles. A yellow color swept across Theodore’s legs as they finished firming into limbs strong enough to run many kilometers.

Theodore switched from his main messages to his mailbox, becoming more comfortable with the salty taste in his mouth. As he checked his emails, he didn’t notice his naked arms slowly begin to inflate. Years of gym-time began to flood into his veins, with pounds of beef creating biceps and triceps. His faded arm hair was swept away, with the tiniest of black follicles growing in their place. The hands that held the toothbrush and phone also inflated, becoming golden paws and his arms took a lemony tone. Theodore was so involved in his phone that he didn’t register his bulky arms and hands.

The intensity of Theodore’s brushing began to diminish. The goal before was the get rid of the toothpaste as soon as possible, but now he was beginning to barely enjoy it. While the brushing became softer, so did his buttocks, which plumped into two small balls filled with flesh. It slowly pushed Theodore up, until he was so uncomfortable that he simply got off the seat. Instead of questioning why his butt felt bigger, he instead switched over into his news app. The amber tone swept upward onto his chest, imploding the massive gut and creating a six pack of abs as solid as concrete. Chest hair quickly fell away as Theodore’s man boobs hardened, becoming two pectorals that felt similar to rock. His nipples slightly grew while his collarbone pushed out, more body fat pushing away to reveal widened shoulders. His large armpit bushes shrunk a little, becoming a stark black and creating a more pungent odor. Theodore still hadn’t noticed anything, with all of his interest in his phone.

Deciding that he should do something else, Theodo put down his phone to set up his bedroom, not realizing he was still subconsciously brushing his teeth. As he set up the atmosphere for his sleeping routine, he couldn’t feel the toothpaste coating the inside of his throat. The salty flavor began to etch away at his deep and powerful voice, disintegrating his large Adam’s apple. Theodo sputtered a little as it slowly sank, his register slipping up to that of a lower tenor. The golden color quickly traveled up as the rest of Theodo’s vocal chords adapted, switching from creating English consonants to Korean syllables.

Theo continued to prep his room, turning on ambiance music as white noise. He always played the same instrumental track, but what came on instead was soft K-pop. To focused with finishing, he didn’t even recognize the different music, or the new chestnut bangs that laid side swept across his forehead. As he continued brushing with the mildly pleasing toothpaste, his face began to re-align. His ears became bigger as his jawline shifted upward, creating a more masculine square. His nose and lips shrunk, while his eyes became more horizontal as they took on a brown hue. All signs of facial hair disappeared as his teeth became pearly white. Any signs of age were washed over by the lemony tone, as Theo now looked more like a 20-something in his prime.

Te strolled out of his bedroom, finished with his pre-bedtime procedures. As he walked around the apartment, his large feet began to slowly change. Originally a much larger man, Te’s feet were Size 14 US to support his stature. With each step, his toes pulled in as the hair shed away. Although they shrunk in length, his feet stayed fairly meaty, retaining definition as they became calloused. Small, black hairs delicately decorated the top of his feet, as a smell almost as powerful as his armpits began to emit. The yellow color painted itself on to Te’s delectable 260 mm feet as he stopped in front of his old storage room.

Having a rather large penthouse granted Te-su with extra space. He hadn’t been to his storage room in a while, but he swore it looked different than it previously had. He remembered old filing cabinets, desks, and boxes of worn out books. Now, it seemed to be a home gym, with workout equipment scattered all across the room. Workout clothes were also strewn about, reeking excessively, but as Te-su brushed more, the room seemed more familiar to him. As he became increasingly accustomed to his changing environment, his average dick began to inflate. At 6.5 inches, it wasn’t the worst size, but it obviously had room for improvement. While Te-su drifted around the room. His hard dick began to slowly sink in on itself. The large, unkempt bush shaved away to reveal the stubs of raven black pubes. His balls also sucked themselves back up, becoming the size of grapes.

Images of men began to flash through Te-su’s head as he became increasingly aroused. He grabbed his dick through the towel in one hand, while still brushing with the other, the taste of the toothpaste becoming more recognizable with each scrub. As Te-su began to jack himself off, he noticed a mirror on the other side of the room. Walking towards it, he was momentarily shocked to see the young Korean stud looking back at him. Theodore regained consciousness for a moment as the amber shade quickly conquered the 7 centimeter cock. Before Theodore could react, he ejaculated to the mirror image of himself, erasing himself from reality permanently.

Tae-sung blinked a few times before regaining sight. He had beat off a lot, especially to himself, but that time was more powerful than usual. He kept brushing, the taste of soy sauce lingering in his mouth deliciously. He was glad that he had gotten it as a gift from the guy he met at the gym. What was his name… Lee? Tae-sung couldn’t remember, as he was fairly dull, riding off of his inheritance rather than intelligence. He didn’t care though, he’d probably find that guy at the gym again tomorrow. Maybe his best bro would know… he’d call him up afterwards. First, he had to finish his brushing.

— —

Bradley entered his suburban mansion lethargically, barely able to push open the heavy double doors. It had been an excessively long day at work, with that young Korean kid pushing him to his limits. About the same as his associate, he was also getting too old to deal with stunts like that. It was people like that who brought him to become overweight, making him age much faster than others. For example, he was the only person he knew who had white hair before sixty, and that was counting what was left. That was only the beginning.

Stumbling in the dark, it took Bradley to find his way to his bedroom. As soon as he got there, he changed as much clothes as he could before falling onto the bed. He was only able to change into an old pair of blue sweatpants, too tired to even put on a shirt . He silently hoped that the next day wouldn’t be as long as the previous.

Waking up the next morning, Bradley could barely even move. He’d gotten a good amount of sleep, but he was still lacking any energy to move. After flopping around a few times on the mattress, he finally pushed his heavy body up and over to the bathroom. After taking a steady piss, Bradley began the process of cleaning himself for the day. Right as he was about to wash his hands, he noticed a small box with a green bow lying on the counter next to him. He hadn’t had any of his maids come in overnight, or the day before, so he didn’t know how it had gotten there. He also hadn’t received any alarms from his security systems. Too groggy to think straight, Bradley decided to open it. After a little game of tug of war, the package opened up. Bradley was surprised to see a small tube of toothpaste, along with another container. Picking up the two objects, he recognized the Hangul writing and connected to the Korean lad from the day before. He put down the toothpaste and observed the bottle more. After looking at it closer, he discovered it was shaving cream. He opened the cap and took a sniff. He was greeted by a very nutty scent, one that he wasn’t at all expecting. Bradley looked in the mirror at his snow-colored stubble, deciding it was probably a good idea to shave.

Bradley grabbed a washcloth and turned on the shower head, just enough to drizzle. As soon as it was wet, he rubbed it on his face to make sure it was saturated. Next, he applied the shaving cream, watching the soapy bubbles create an even bigger white beard across his jawline. The nutty smell was becoming even more intense, making Bradley a little dizzy. He also noted a hint of muskiness, like something he’d smell in a locker room. He would have to check what scent this was afterwards, as he had no idea what he was supposed to be smelling.

As Bradley took the first stroke, the white hair bounced off his stomach and fell to the ground below him. He’d have to brush it up later with a broom, which didn’t really excite him. What he didn’t notice were how his legs were slowly bulking up inside of the sweatpants. Each breath Bradley took of the shaving cream added a little more muscle to his legs. His quads began to bloat, becoming massive with meat as they strained the sweatpants. His calves also expanded, becoming thick and firm for intense workouts. As the golden tan swept over his legs, Bradley lost all hair and some height, moving down to 170 centimeters.

Bradley scraped off the next stripe, with the hair falling down to the ground in small clumps. It passed the arms, which began to pump up with muscle slowly. Bradley didn’t recognize this however, as he was to busy shaving. His yellowing arms quickly created gigantic biceps and triceps, blowing up his arms to epic proportions. Thick veins appeared across his forearms as his arm hair disappeared, only to be replaced with tiny, stark follicles of black hair. His palms grew, becoming meaty.

The third stripe of hair came off, with more white falling to the floor. The soap didn’t stick to the razor, but instead to the clump, creating a bubbly mess at Bradley’s feet. The intense nutty smell ingrained itself into his face, familiarizing itself. While Bradley continued to shave, his massive gut began to suck in. The fat disappeared in a few moments, with the facial hair now falling straight to the ground. After the creation of an eight-pack of solid abs, his shoulders widened out and his collar bone popped out. As the amber tone washed over his entire torso, Bradley’s nipples grew to match his growing pectorals, both become hard and large. Finally, his armpit hair retracted all the way, only leaving a small black stubble that would never grow. Although the patches were small, the rancid scent that began to emit from them was very noticeable, yet Bradley was still concentrating on shaving.

With a little more than half of his face shaved, Brady deducted it would be a good time to wash some of the soap off his face. He had actually begun to enjoy the smell of the shaving cream. He’d also have to clean up the mess on the floor pretty soon, as it now looked like he was wearing a pair of bubbly hair slippers. As he grabbed for the washcloth, the lemony wave swept across his neck, pushing in his larynx barely. His passive bass tone lightened to a baritone. His vocal box also rearranged, no longer needed for a Romance language.

Grabbing the washcloth, Brad realized that it had gone dry. He grabbed the knob to turn on the shower head again, but accidentally turned it to hard. Before Brad could correct his mistake, a spurt of cold water poured over his head. He yelped as he was momentarily soaked. It felt like his entire head was a clump of messy, wet white hair. He slowly stood up, immediately noticing that he had sprayed water all over the mirror too. At least he hadn’t gotten his thick, dark brown bangs drenched. As he wiped off the leftover soap bubbles from the first half of his face, his jaw keenly realigned itself. Square points began to just out as his eyes became brown and narrow. His nose shrunk barely as his lips jutted out just barely. Any signs of age disappeared as Brad now looked no older than 25. To top everything off, his whole head was covered in a golden color.

Removing the last bits of facial hair from his face, Ba began to wash away the mess from his feet. As he pushed the mess of hair and bubbles away, which was magically disappearing with each swipe, his feet dwindled in size. Originally at a Size 12 US, it didn’t take much to make them shrink down. As they became more compact, small veins appeared to amplify the increasing muscularity. His toes became small stubs as a foul funk sourly filled the room. As Ba removed the last of the bubbles, he revealed a beautiful pair of 245 mm lemony feet.

As Bo stood back up, he suddenly felt his cock becoming extremely aroused, the smell of the shaving cream driving him wild. The monster quickly inflated to 9 inches, a rough gem hidden by a previously hideous body. As the amber tone began to spread to his cock, it began to slowly descend inwards, opposite to his expanding butt cheeks. The previous flat back began to push out, creating two meaty, massive globes that were both tanned perfectly, filling out the back end of the sweatpants expertly.

While the buttocks finished pushing out, Bo felt another wave of euphoria cascade over him. He quickly grabbed his cock, taking long strokes to truly work himself up. As time past, he fondling became faster. It wasn’t because he was becoming more elated, but instead because his dick was shrinking. The massive sausage was settling into much, much smaller. His bush and balls did the same, and they decreased to just a quarter of their previous sizes and they turned black and yellow respectively. Bo looked in the mirror as flashes of sucking and receiving cock flashed through his head, with Bradley returning for a just a moment to see his life disappear. He was about to gasp, about to stop the process, but his lemony 5 centimeter cock thought otherwise, for it was so sensitive that it burst immediately, blowing all of Bradley out with it.

Bo-gum’s eyes refocused to the mirror in front of him, the load of sperm beginning to dry in his underwear and pants. Immediately, the smell of his sesame oil shaving cream hit him full on, the smell reminding him of Korea. That guy from the gym really knew what to get him, yet Bo-gum couldn’t remember his name. He knew his first name was Hae-jin, but what was his surname? Sometimes Bo-gum was so dumb, he was such a meathead. The only reason he was rich was because of his inheritance not at all due to his smarts, or lack thereof. Maybe his best bro would know, he’d have to text him.

Looking back in the mirror, Bo-gum noticed a small patch of black facial hair that he had missed. He quickly shaved the spot and put the razor, not to be touched again until his next semi-annual shave.

— —

From his office, Lee Hae-jin smiled with pride at the success of his revenge. By simply mixing simple ointments with his own semun, he was able to create two Korean studs out of the rude Americans. It was also smart of him to mask the scent by mixing in soy sauce and sesame oil, two traditional Korean spices.

By eliminating the “Gateway to the North,” Lee now had free reign over the entire Earth. At the gym later that day, he could easily convince the now dimwitted Cho Tae-sung and Seong Bo-gum to become his main investing partners. With over half of the world conquered, it was only so long before everyone would encounter “A Seoul-changing Experience.” Everyone would be Korean, and more importantly, under Lee Hae-jin’s control.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three

--- Originally posted on 2019-11-18 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Ignorant Passersby

Lee Hae-Jin looked at his watch anxiously, his bicep unintentionally flexing as he did. His workout gear stretched over his tight body as the seconds ticked away, counting down slowly. It had been almost a month since the first Hotel Korea had opened, and nearly a hundred more had been built since then, with even more being proposed in other cities. Lee’s idea had been a huge success, with more and more of the world’s population becoming Korean, but he still had more work to do.

One of his newest ideas for faster conversion was about to launch, and he had no idea how successful it would be. Lee had made sure that if it faltered, only he would be able to notice. Not everyone stayed at a hotel, so he had to find a way to change the everyday civilians. As the last second clicked away, his plan came to life. Lee looked out the window, hoping to see some sort of changes. His anxiousness quickly turned to glee.

— —

“I’ll be back in a second, bro!” Chandler said as he stomped his way to the restroom. He was lifting weights with another guy from his fraternity, Nathan, but had suddenly felt an urge to take a piss. Nathan waved him off as he ran into the men’s locker room. He looked in the mirror and was greeted by a fairly built white male, his blond hair slicked back with sweat. Although his face looked red, his Under Armour wife beater looked rather dry. Chandler grabbed his phone from his gym shorts and took a mirror selfie, the white wall behind him accenting his tanned skin.

Suddenly, Chandler felt a stirring in his bladder, a reminder to why he had come here in the first place. He rushed to a urinal and took out a heavy dick, one that was almost 6 inches and still soft. He began to piss and looked up towards posters on the wall, mindlessly reading about some concert from an unheard American band. He smirked, believing the Top 40 playlist he was listening to was much better.

As Chandler pissed away, he began to hear music playing through the vents. He focused his hearing in on the music and, after a few moments of thinking, determined that it wasn’t in English. He quickly figured out it was some K-pop boy band. It wasn’t his kind of music, or the gym’s for that matter, but he assumed there must have been some big party from the new Korean hotel down the street.

Chandler focused back on the posters, reading about the new boy band that was touring all the way from Korea. He suddenly became overjoyed as he remembered that they were his favorite band. As he finished, he tucked a smaller, yellow cock back into his gym shorts and walked back into the main area of the locker room. Each step he took slowly brought him lower until the 6’2 male was only about 175 centimeters. His arms and legs inflated and he suddenly rushed back into the stall, his dick now wanting to do more than just piss in the bathroom.

Chandler quickly closed the stall door behind him and sat on the ridge of the toilet, taking out his much smaller dick. Chandler didn’t notice the difference in length as he got hard, his cock much shorter than what it used to be hard. He moaned as he began to stroke, his once rough hands becoming small and soft with a lemony sheen. As he edged, his pecs began to fill out more, his pre-defined abs sharpening. He groaned as his shrunken balls began to churn, his hair growing out into black bangs on his head.

“신 이시여!” Chung-Hee shouted as he burst a load in the stall, the white cum sticking out on the black wall. He cleaned himself and walked out, his small, yellow feet moving quickly across the floor. He walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror, the K-pop still playing from the vents overhead and in his earbud. Chung-Hee was glad that Nam-Kyu had convinced him to come to the local Korean gym today. He was a little timid that it wasn’t going to be authentic, but the place seemed to be as if it had come straight out of his own South Korea itself. He smirked as he walked up to the mirror, his sexy Korean body looked incredible against the black wall. He brought up his phone and took a mirror selfie, making sure to hold a straight face. He was looking as 멋진 ever. He sent the picture to his boyfriend before running back into the gym.

— —

Officer Charleston sat in his car, surveying the land around him for any sort of disturbance. Right across the street from him was the Hotel Korea, a newer building that had been the center of multiple documented disappearances, as well as numerous other complaints. He had been dispatched there to see if there was any reason the department should be concerned, but as he lazily ate a bag of potato chips that rested on his large stomach, he couldn’t find anything that seemed out of place.

Officer Charleston watched strangers as he sat there, his floating eyes hiding behind a thick pair of sunglasses. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just lots of random people around the busy street. He noticed the large Korean population that seemed to be spilling out of the hotel across the street, but he assumed that what the typical crowd for a chain targeted at a certain population. Officer Charleston scratched his bushy beard and placed the bag of chips next to him. He lined his large foot up to the brake and started the car.

Right as the car spurred to life, a blast of music began pounding from the building. Officer Charleston twitched from the sheer volume before turning off his car–this was obviously some sort of noise disturbance. He opened his door and shuffled out of the car, his large frame struggling slightly. The policeman strolled to a crosswalk and waited patiently, not realizing that as he stood there his foot tapped to the beat. He also didn’t realize that he was translating the Korean in his own head, beginning to understand every word.

A stoplight flashed red and the officer crossed with his fellow pedestrians. Each step brought the policeman closer to the earth, until he was barely 172 centimeters tall. His torso began to shrink as his stomach fell in on itself, the skin turning to a soft golden. His arms and legs plumped with definition, years of age being replaced with pounds of muscle. His shorter calves and forearms became solid as he made it to the other side of the street.

The policeman hummed along to the music as his thighs expanded inside of his pants. His hands became smaller as he adjusted his name badge, his name switching from the English phonetic system to Hangul. His feet also shrunk, now being able to slip comfortably into a pair of 250 mm boots.The yellowly tone overtook the rest of the officer’s body as his hair magically began to shed, all of it disappearing from the neck below. Even his beard fell away, revealing a sturdy jaw and the most flawless skin.

As a brown bob began to grow out on his head, the officer suddenly felt a sharp pain in his crotch. He rushed out to the side of the hotel behind a dumpster, pulling down pants to reveal a stubby, lemony cock begging for attention. He grabbed his cock and stroked it carefully, his whole hand not entirely fitting. He moaned quietly, its pitch rising as his Adam’s apple sunk in. He felt his balls tremble as he took in a harsh breath.

“커밍 해요!” Security Guard Choi howled as a small load poured into his hand. He sighed before wiping it on the side of his uniform. He was glad that he was able to sneak a session in during his shift at the Hotel Korea. They were fairly lenient on breaks, but sometimes a Korean man in his youth had to get in some extra time. The watchman turned the corner back around to the front of the building and noticed a car was abnormally parked on the street. It probably was just an accident, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect at the hotel. He strode over confidently: there was nothing a fine, young Korean like himself couldn’t deal with.

— —

John just needed a break. He wasn’t supposed to have his kid for the day, but his ex dropped him off a few days early. John hadn’t been able to take off work, so now he had to drag the 9-year-old around with him everywhere he went. It was completely agonizing. As they walked downtown, the kid had to see everything, point at everything, want everything. It was the worst when they passed the new hotel a few buildings back; there was way too much to look at. John eventually gave up, telling him to sit down outside and wait as he went into a brewery to get a drink. He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he was about to explode.

John quickly ordered a strong scotch and took a seat. Getting closer to 50 everyday, he still couldn’t believe that he had a child so young. Wasn’t his sperm supposed to stop working at one point? The kid had put so much stress on his body, helping him gain weight and lose hair. The balding man sat there quietly as a glass was carefully placed in front of him. He grumbled before grabbing it, knowing he’d have to chug it. Why couldn’t the kid just grow up?

He grabbed the glass right as new song began. It wasn’t coming from the brewery, but instead from a distance away. John didn’t notice it at first, but he slowly began subconsciously focusing more and more on the music. It wasn’t in English, but John could feel himself slowly get more and more involved in the music. His gulping turned to sipping as he started fully investing his attention in the boy-band music.

As John casually drank his whiskey, he didn’t notice his clothes slowly becoming looser on his frame. His stomach was coated in a light tan as pounds shed themselves away, the hair falling with them. While abs and pecs appeared on his frame, round biceps and triceps also began to pop up around his thickening arms. While his body became more muscular, years of age began to disappear. His shoulders and hips were coated in a lemony shade as they widened and shrunk respectively.

As more of the beer disappeared from the cup, so did John’s height. He slowly diminished in his chair, losing 16 centimeters to his height. Although his legs had contracted, his thighs and quads had become enormous. His calves had also becoming thicker, but they had lost their body hair along with the rest of John’s body. The only hair that grew in was on his head, which now was a soft, full stark-black part. John’s feet compressed as the rest of the golden shade covered his body.

Putting his root beer glass down, John began palming his groin. It had become increasingly agitated as time went on. John knew he was in public, but he had to relieve his dick right now. He dug his hands into his pants and began furiously stroking; his cock became more sensitive from its decreasing length. Suddenly, John felt his pouch scrunch up in his hands, ready for action.

“달콤한 방출!” Joon-ho squealed in a high tone as a small wet patch appeared on the front of his shirt. Joon-ho groaned in delight as he resituated himself in the chair. He picked up the Korean coffee and took a sip, smiling at its deliciousness. He knew it was dumb to come to a brewery and not get alcohol, but he didn’t care for it that much. He was still basically a kid in his early twenties, so it never appealed to him.

Speaking of feeling like a kid, he had to go find his boyfriend. He didn’t have a daddy kink, but it was clear who was in charge and who wasn’t between the two of them. Before he’d run off to find his boyfriend, he’d have to finish off this drink first.

— —

Timothy hated the hotel that had opened near his apartment. He had been living there for almost ten years, and all that time he had assumed that nothing would ever be built in the hideous lot a little less than a block away. Then, out of nowhere, a giant hotel was built, with people flowing in and out everyday. The strange thing though, Timothy noticed that people of every size, race, and age went into the hotel, but only young, attractive Koreans came out. The 40-year-old man could sense something was wrong.

Luckily for Timothy, he had just come home from work early, his boss feeling extra kind today. He rushed home and ran upstairs to his bathroom to take a hot, long bath. He prepared all the materials necessary before stripping his suit down slowly, his furry chest and legs becoming exposed to the world. Timothy knew he wasn’t the most attractive of people, with his beer gut and clunky height, but at least was fairly average. Once he was naked, the middle-aged man got into the tub, laying down so his feet stuck out the other side. Timothy rubbed a wet hand onto his head, the short, graying hair meeting him. He laid there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Timothy’s eyes jerked open as he began to hear music bouncing around his bathroom walls. He focused his ears to figure out that it was coming from the hotel, realizing it was in some kind of Asian language. At first, he was completely annoyed, but as he listened to it more, he began to like it. What the boys were singing about became enticing to him, relaxing him once more into the tub before he fell asleep.

Tae-won squinted as he woke up, his nap being a little longer than intended. He slowly pulled himself up, his small body wholely underwater. He looked over his lemony, muscled body, his proudest features all displayed finely under the bubbles. He looked over himself as he felt his small cock rise, with the absence of hair making it look even more miniscule. In fact, Tae-won was completely hairless from the armpits down–and he completely loved it.

Tae-won brought a small hand to his dick, carefully bringing it to full mast with three fingers. He whimpered as he jerked away, his cock sensitive. The boy band played in the background as he kept pushing, his short but powerful legs scrunching up to his defined torso. Tae-won pushed his brown locks to the side as he began to stroke faster. As he got to the edge, he felt his balls scrunch up to push out a load.

“여기 온다!” Tae-won yelled as his shot a miniscule load into the tub. Once he took a few deep breaths, he regained himself and slowly got out of the tub. He grabbed his red jockstrap and tight shorts, placing both on as he dried himself off. Tae-won restyled his hair into the classic chestnut bob before running downstairs. He picked up his phone and saw that he had a little less than an hour before he began his shift at the Hotel Korea. He also noticed that he had received a text from his boyfriend a few minutes ago. He opened the message, finding a picture of the other incredibly attractive Korean at the gym. Tae-won smiled, noticing his boyfriend was wearing one of the wife beaters he had given him at their last anniversary.

“Looking good, Chung-Hee,” Tae-won muttered in Korean, responding back to the picture. He guided himself back to the staircase, his tight, yellowy abs glistened under the sunlight from a nearby window. He pulled up his phone and brought it to the mirror, going from the same straight face that his partner had. His lemony features looked delicious after his long wash. He shot the picture and sent it to his boyfriend before running back upstairs to his room to get his uniform on. He had a long shift ahead of him, but, luckily for him, he loved his workplace.

— —

Milo had been waiting for his friend for almost an hour. He was parked outside of his hotel, the new one that had just opened, and he still hadn’t gotten any word from Kayler. He should’ve been worried, but for as long as he could remember, Kayler was never really one to be prompt; however, this was getting absurd.

Both Kayler and Milo had been friends since kindergarten, and the two of them would graduate in a few months from the highschool a little ways out of the city. Kayler was at the hotel for an assignment, one in which the student would observe a different culture. Of course, the Hotel Korea was the perfect choice, but Milo hadn’t heard any word from Kayler. He was supposed to pick him up after three days at the front door, but as Milo fiddled with his large shirt over his lithe body, no one ever approached his car.

Out of the blue, loud music exploded from the building Milo was parked in front of. Milo ducked for cover, taking a few moments to realize that it was not some sort of explosion, but instead K-pop. Milo didn’t know what to think of it at first, but what the boy band was singing about was strangely alluring. Milo concentrated on the noise, grooming his bright red hair as he followed along. The longer he listened to it, the more he began to enjoy it.

As the song started its first refrain, Milo hadn’t noticed how his feet were no longer tapping the brake pedal. He subconsciously pulled his chair a few inches forward as his shirt began to fill out. The once loose shirt began to tighten around the pecs and abs that were popping up by the beat. His once miniscule arms bloated, becoming muscular and dense. His calves and thighs also expanded while an amber color began to blotch out the pale white.

By the second refrain, Milo’s shirt was now strained, his large torso and biceps making it seem like the seams would rip any moment. Milo’s pants were also threatening to tear, with a large bubble butt and tree-trunk legs pushing at the silky boundaries. Hair dwindled away all around Milo’s body except for on his head, which shortened into a black sports cut. A few years packed onto to Milo as he shifted into his early twenties, while his feet shrunk into a softer size of 245 mm.

As the rest of the golden tan covered his body, Milo grabbed his average size cock and began to stroke. It got hard instantly, but didn’t lengthen at all. His hard length was now the same as what he was as soft previously. Milo didn’t notice however, for he was too focused on how incredible the bridge of the song was. As the last refrain came around the corner, Milo felt his testicles tense quickly.

“너무 좋아!” Min-kyu cried as a spray of white cum covered his shirt. He sat there for a second, breathing irregularly before regaining consciousness. He hadn’t even realized he had an audience at the passenger door.

“여보세요?” The stranger asked, causing Min-kyu to jump. He turned to the window to see his boyfriend standing at the window, still on his shift as a security guard at the hotel.

“Choissi, you scared me!” Min-kyu said in Korean as the watchman entered the car.

“Well, I didn’t know I was late to the party,” he replied back before leaning over for a kiss. As the two embraced, Min-kyu suddenly felt a buzzing in his pocket. He took out his phone to see that he had a text from his friend Kun-woo. He put his phone down and continued with the security guard. If Min-kyu had waited this long, Kun-woo could too.

— —

Gunnar sat on the uncomfortable chair extremely bored. He couldn’t believe that his lousy father had just left him at the front of a furniture store while he went off to get a drink. He didn’t even like his father. The two never connected because Gunnar had spent most of his time with his mom. They never really spent time together, and when they did, it was just awkward and always ended in some sort of argument. It was like he wasn’t even related to the man, but he knew that he had to try to stay friendly.

Gunnar brought a small bag into his lap, looking through all the things that his father did let him get. It wasn’t much, the reusable bag was just as ordinary as they things they had purchased. There were some water bottles, gloves, and a new game for his console back at his other home, but otherwise the day had proved uneventful. His father wouldn’t let him go into any of the buildings he wanted to see, especially the new hotel that had just opened down the street. Gunnar took out the water bottle to take a drink, not knowing what else to do.

Without warning, music began blasting from down the street. Gunnar choked for a second on the water he had just opened, surprised. He took the plastic bottle out of his mouth and looked towards the hotel. He could almost see the soundwaves emitting from the building, the K-pop becoming strangely alluring.

Gunnar brought the juice bottle back to his mouth, beginning to enjoy the music as it played on. As he drank, his legs began to extend themselves, the new meaty thighs and calves pushing him to a staggering 178 centimeters. Gunnar subconsciously began to manspread as his body became wider, his torso filling in with strong abs and pecs. An amber tone flooded his pale skin while his eyes became a deep brown.

While Gunnar continued guzzling pop from the bottle, his arms and shoulders began to fill out. Years of time in the gym became evident as pounds of meat were added to the boys frame. Veins became visible while his hand became round and hard, the results of numerous callouses. His expanding quads caused his shorts to pull up, now looking more like short-shorts than their previous knee-length.

As Gunnar topped off the beer bottle, he began to feel a rumbling in his balls. He had no idea what was happening, but something was telling him in the back of his mind that he should stroke his small cock. He grabbed it, and, with a sudden feeling of elation, began pumping furiously. As he did, he didn’t notice his grunts slowly becoming deeper, or how he now had to blow black bangs out of his face. Right as the yellow color covered the last of the pale skin, Gunnar felt a final push in his groin.

“달콤한 서울!” Gun-woo grunted as his jizz landed on his Corona shirt. He quickly rubbed it in before grabbing the matching bag and looking through it for a back-up outfit. All he had was an empty glass bottle, a beer koozie, and a Korean porn film for his date tonight. His date! He had completely forgotten about it, and where his partner had walked off to.

As if on cue, his boyfriend walked out of a nearby coffee shop. A grin plastered itself on Gun-woo’s face.

You look adorable, boy,” Gun-woo remarked in Korean as his boyfriend walked over.

“You aren’t too bad either, old man,” the man replied back.

“Joon-ho, you know I’m only five years older than you,” Gun-woo snarked.

“You’re talent in bed says otherwise.” Joon-ho replied, licking his lips. Gun-woo smirked as he got up to leave with his boyfriend, knowing he had a fun night ahead of him.

— —

Lee Hae-jin sat at his desk, the new information charts flooding in from every other Hotel Korea. His plan had been a huge success, as apparent by the massive spikes of local Korean populations in each location. The music was an easy choice for conversion while still being untrackable, but the problem was how he would transfer the Korean genetic code through the melodies. He had to write a song that would transform its listeners.

After tedious research, he finally came to an idea: Don’t create music, create a band. He designed his own K-pop boy band, which he cleverly named KOREABOO. They would seem like any other boy band from South Korea, but they’d only produce Lee’s music. Their voices would make the melodies that would become hypnotic to new listeners. Their words would help produce the new Korean population faster.

Lee closed the laptop and chuckled to himself. It would only be so long before the entire world would be Korean, and, more importantly, under his control.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Two

--- Originally posted on 2019-08-16 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Feuding Twins

Lee Hae-jin squatted down in the hotel’s skate park, proudly observing the progress of his hotel. It had been a little over two weeks since the grand opening and already three more hotels had been approved by different cities, with almost twenty more being proposed. Lee wasn’t at all surprised, he knew his plan was going to work. Even if the individual governments didn’t necessarily see his point of view, they would eventually.

Lee’s casual look had suited him well. He was gaining lots of honest opinions about the hotel, as no one expected him to be the leader of the entire operation. Of course, everyone had the same opinion, agreeing that it truly was “A Seoul-changing Experience.” As he adjusted his ample manhood through his barely-covering shorts, he overheard two young boys fighting. Lee got up and slowly inched towards the conversation. He stood near a tree, listening in on what seemed like two middle schoolers fighting. “I can’t believe I beat you! AGAIN!”

“You cheated! Plus, that card game is way too easy.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m always the winner.”

“But it’s our 13th birthday - you can’t cheat!”

“I still won, and I won Bella’s heart, so anythi-”

“I hate being in the same room with you, you twit!”

“Shut up!”

“No you!”

Before the two could get too riled up, Lee swooped out from behind the tree and made his way between the two boys. Both of them looked fairly similar: blond hair, small stature, lanky bodies. Their pale skin was only heightened by their bright colored swimsuits, with the older wearing black and red and the younger adorning a neon yellow.

“So, I hear we have a winner back here?” Lee said in perfectly fluent English.

“Yes!” said one, stepping forward proudly. He was obviously the older of the two twins, being that he was taller and puberty was gracing him faster.

“Wait!” the second sneered, taking the first back and whispering into his ear, “He’s a stranger…

“Well, in that case, let me introduce myself,” Lee replied, surprising the two boys once again, “My name is Lee, I own the Hotel Korea.” The two boys stood back in awe. Lee, knowing that he held all the cards now, continued.

“I think the proud winner should earn a little prize,” he began, ushering the older one over. His black swim shirt gleamed in the sun against his bright, red trunks. He was obviously the superior of the two.

“For your amazing achievements in…”

“Sorcery,” the older twin stated, obviously a nerdy game.

“Sorcery,” Lee reinstated, “I’ll give you this free, underwater, disposable camera specially made by my company back in South Korea.” Lee took out a large device and put his thumb on a small circle, activating the prize, and then handed it to the older boy. The camera looked more like a tablet with a very bulky case. Before the twin could get too excited, Lee continued.

“Congratulations…”

“Seth Dawson-Kissel,” the older twin added, “and this is my twin, Hayden.”

“Now,” Lee resumed, “Hayden, although you lost, I believe you both also deserve a prize for your outstanding participation. I’m giving both of you access to one of my private spas.”

The two brothers’ eyes widened with glee, both about to scream with joy. After giving them a moment, Lee kindly asked them for their room keys. Lee quickly took out a different device and scanned over the two cards, resetting them. He was going to give them access to a private spa, but he was placing them in different rooms. After their time in the spa, they’d have a much different relationship then brothers. Once he’d had completed the reassignment, he gave back the keys and told the boys were two go. They quickly ran off, not even turning to thank the smirking man as they left.

— —

As soon as the two hadn’t gotten in the spa room, they jumped into action. The small area composed of a miniature pool, a stone stove, and plenty of spa chairs to relax in. They also had an incredible view of the city sprawled out below them. There was one other person there, a young, Korean man who was acting as their lifeguard. He barely spoke an English, but the two boys were too enthralled in the room to care. Seth, the older twin and victor, had decided to grab a giant pizza float and relax in the warm water. Unlike Seth, Hayden, the younger twin and loser, placed his sunglasses and towel in a neat pile before bathing in the sunlight coming from the windows on a spa bed. Hayden threw his towel on the ground next to him, but decided to keep his white tee on. He didn’t feel as confident in the presence of the strangely attractive Korean. He didn’t like guys, but he could tell he was very good-looking.

As the two began to relax, the Korean began to mix his hands into some scented oils before pouring them into the pool water. He made sure that all of the lubricants were touched by his hands, that way the entire pool would be under his own activation. He only had to work on the older twin, for Seth was already going to unconsciously work on the younger. The attendant had remembered what Lee had ordered: the attendant and the camera would have to work together to create a “trait switch.” The cheater was going to get what he deserved. The attendant quietly poured the scented oils into the pool with neither of the twins noticing.

While Hayden relaxed in a chair with his eyes closed, Seth began to play with the camera. With nothing else to take a picture of, he sneakily brought the lens towards his younger twin and took a picture. Once it had finished loading, he was surprised to see the quality of the photo. It actually looked really good, as if it was professional. As he investigated the picture, a small blurb showed up on the screen, asking if he’d like to apply a filter. Curiously, Seth accepted and watched as the picture transformed, giving his younger twin longer, stronger, and tanner legs. He giggled to himself quietly, excited to see more.

Still sitting silently, Hayden hadn’t realized that his twin had taken a picture of him, or that his lower limbs were changing. His legs began to push out. He wasn’t that tall before, being at about 5’4, but he was now reaching about 5’6. His thighs began to blossom, growing muscular quads as his calves strengthened. His once-knee length trunks were now halfway up his thighs, showcasing the meat hidden beneath. The beginnings of blond leg hair disappeared as a barely-visible, yet solid layer of black began to emerge with a yellowish tan coating his limbs. Hayden’s young legs also began to mature a bit, still retaining a younger look but having the meat of a man in his mid-twenties.

With Seth so focused on his new camera, he hadn’t noticed any changes about his own body. He hadn’t felt his legs stretching a little less than Hayden’s, bringing him from 5’4 to 5’5. He also couldn’t tell how his legs to had grown with maturity, hard muscle stacking up on his thickening thighs and strengthening calves. He didn’t notice how the blond hair had disappeared, keeping his legs hairless as they took on a more amber tone. Even when he took his eyes out of the camera to adjust his position, he didn’t recognize how his lower body had changed. He had always been shorter than his younger twin, it wasn’t anything new to him.

Seth took another picture, and this time the leg filter was already applied to his brother. Once he investigated the picture again, another filter suggestion popped up. Seth quickly clicked it, giving his younger brother stronger and larger arms.

Hayden, still calm in the chair, adjust his shoulders as his arms began to expand. He swiftly removed his shirt, not registering his changing body. As he went back to his relaxed state, his arms continued to bloat. Strong biceps and triceps appeared as the limbs lengthened, becoming stronger. Hayden was pretty much hairless on his arms before, but now he adorned miniature black fibers. As his muscles finished firming up, his hands matured, becoming meatier and harder. Memories of lifting and working out began to flood his head, teaching him how to maintain his strong and powerful appendages. A lemony shade enveloped his limbs while two, thick bushes of wiry, black hair filled in his pits. A subtle, yet putrid scent began to emit from Hayden’s pit, yet he was in such a lazy scent that he didn’t notice, or care.

Seth, fascinated by his camera, hadn’t felt his swim shirt expanding. His biceps and triceps were also growing, along with his arms lengthening, yet not as much as his brother’s. As Seth’s arms grew toned, he remembered that he always wanted to say right between the line of fit and athletic, while his younger brother always chose the route of muscular. His hands expanded, but also became a little more delicate as he remembered all of the times he would barely break a sweat in the gym. As Seth brought the camera back towards his face, his arms took on a yellower tone. His armpits lost all traces of hair ever being there, they were to remain hairless forever.

Seth shot the next photo, and, without thinking, clicked to add the filter. This time, he saw his cousin’s chest expand, looking more like a man’s torso instead of a boy’s.

As Hayden basked in the sunlight, his chest began to broaden. Years of working out began to show as two solid, firm pecs began to appear. A light six pack also emerged as memories of skipping class to go to the gym flooded Hayden’s brain. Muscles filled in what used to be the remainders of baby fat as Hayden’s shoulders widened, giving him a more visible collarbone. His larger torso gave him a little more height, pushing him from 5’6 to about 172 centimeters, just above (Korean) average. His nipples perked up as the golden color darkened his previous pale skin. His chest became completely hairless, never to have any coat grow there. As his chest finished, Hayden’s intelligence slowly began to drop.

With Seth still sitting on the pizza float, absorbed with his prize, he hadn’t realized how his swim shirt was suddenly becoming a little tight. Before, it was quite loose on his lithe body, but now, as his muscles began to perk up, the shirt began to hug him tightly. As his torso broadened, his height didn’t increase, leaving him at about 166 centimeters, shorter than his cousin. As his larger nipples began to harden, he remembered that his shirt had always been tight, he always wanted to show off his body for all men and women to see. He knew the easiest way to the heart was a solid chest. His chest also tanned as it became hairless; it too would never sprout hair again. Seth brought the camera up again to take another picture of his cousin, his chest yellowing as he did so.

The next picture came in quite odd. The only filter that had applied to his relative was a bigger, more prominent neck. Seth Kissel didn’t quite understand, yet the more he thought about it, the less he cared. Hayden Dawson had always had a neck like that.

Hayden grunted as his neck began to swell. His neck thickened as a meaty Adam’s apple slowly pushed its way out of his throat. His grunts became deeper and more mature, dropping from a prepubescent alto to a mature bass. His voice now had the stern quality of a young man, instead of that of a young boy. An amber tone appeared over his neck, giving him the complete look. With the deep voice also came power, causing Hayden to gently gain more confident, alpha personality traits. His levels of dominance began to rise and his intelligence continued to decrease.

Seth’s throat also tingled after he had taken the last picture. His neck thickened, making way for the maturing male coming out in him. A small Adam’s apple appeared in his throat too, definitely not as large as his relative’s but just as noticeable. His voice also dropped, but only half as far as Hayden’s had. He had now become a light tenor. His voice developed a more adulting tone, but also one that was inferior. As his inferiority slowly became more apparent, so did his now decreasing intelligence. He brought the camera up again, this time more timid as he took the picture.

The filter was applied instantly, not letting Seseu Kimmel choose if he wanted it or not. With no option of the filter, he didn’t recognize that the picture wasn’t showing his friend’s real face. To him, he believed that Heideun Dawso had always looked that way.

Heideun slowly opened his eyes, being the first time he had done so since he and his friend had played that dumb card game. He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to it; it was way too hard. Heideun looked around the room, his face growing longer as his chin and jaw began to expand. He noticed the attendant in the back, saying something to himself. As Heideun tuned in, almost completely making out the fluent Korean, his eyes began to shrink. Their blue tone took on a darker brown while his lips grew out a little. His darkening eyebrows straightened as his hair became a sharp black. His hair restyled itself, growing out and becoming a little bit messier due to the humidity of the room. His face matured, tanning into a solid golden tone yet still retaining some baby fat, giving him a true youthful, yet mature look. A natural, cocky sneer appeared on Heideun’s face as a dumber, more arrogant persona began to take over.

With Seseu absorbed into the camera, beginning to experience his first boner ever over a friend, he hadn’t realized that his face was changing too. His face stretched out longer, giving him a pointier chin. His eyes also shrunk a little as they changed to a dark brown. His nose shrunk while his hair restyled itself, becoming a penetrating black. More of his baby face stuck around, but he now looked like a young man. His lips became bigger, prepared to take on any cock of any size, and by the look on his face, he wanted his friends dick above anything. Seseu quickly took another picture, trying to be careful as to make sure his friend didn’t seem him.

The next photo was beginning to send Ses-eun over, his acquaintance was becoming more and more irresistible. He had simply snapped a picture of Hyei-sun’s feet at he could practically burst. The bony Size 11 US feet that were originally there were swapped out by the camera’s miraculous 265 mm feet.

“너무 섹시 해,” Ses-eun moaned in Korean quietly to himself. Trying to contain himself, Ses-eun hid his erection by scrunching up his legs, but didn’t notice how his thigh-length trunks now practically showcased his entire lower body.

Hyei-sun turned towards his acquaintance, hearing him mutter something. Ses-eun was too involved in the camera to notice Hyei-sun, so he got a clear look of the man’s body. A raging erection appeared instantly, causing Hyei-sun to casually grab his towel to place over it. It wasn’t that he was bashful, in fact he was quite confident in himself. The towel was instead going to be used as a cumrag. He had a hard-on, and he only knew one way to get rid of it. As he began to slowly stroke his erect dick, his feet began to shrink at the end of the chair. The Size 11 US feet that he once owned were lessening, becoming meatier as they lost their length. Eventually, they became soft and delectable, finishing to a size 265 mm. He knew his feet had power, and as he became more dense, he began to feel an urge to have other men bow down and service him at his feet. Hyei-sun couldn’t notice due to the essential oils, but his feet also began to emit a soft musk as they shaded themselves into a soft yellow.

Ses-eun was also palming himself, trying to find out how to discreetly grind without anyone noticing. While he was busy in his sexual haze, his Size 12 US feet began to diminish. They shrunk in quickly, becoming more mature and firm as they did so. Ses-eun’s pale, bony look was now replaced by something more luscious, as he now adorned two yellowy feet that fit perfectly into a pair of 250 mm shoes. Ses-eun knew he had to take one last picture of his overly attractive acquaintance, so he carefully took the camera out and took one last shot.

The final picture was what brought Seo-jeun to the edge. The picture looked almost the exact same as the last one, but this time he knew that the filter had applied something magical to the handsome stranger’s pouch. He could imagine how beautiful his 10 centimeter cock could have looked next to his large balls. He fantasized about how the amber tone must have brilliantly contrasted the wiry, black bush. Just envisioning the toned, hard butthocks on his back was bringing Seo-jeun closer and closer. The thought of the stranger’s package made him want to burst.

As Seo-jeun’s image became a reality, Hyun-sin was concocting something up for himself. At seeing the beautiful stranger in the pool make a look of ecstasy, he began to furiously pump his diminished cock faster. It didn’t shrink much, but it definitely brought more pleasure. As Hyun-sin cupped his expanding balls, he could visualize the golden bubble butt that laid inside the tiny red trunks. While his bush grew, he couldn’t help but dream of the tiny, 6.5 centimeter cock that was hidden between those thick legs. Once his butt had finished perking up, he pictured the small balls that had no black hair to hide behind inside the red trunks. As the last of the Korean genetics took over, Hyun-sin intelligence finished its descent at below-average. Everything left of his past self was pushed into his cock, ready to release.

“어 그래!” the man in the yellow trunks shouted proudly as he shot his load into the towel.

Seo-jun, hearing and seeing this, felt himself loading up. Seeing the glorious alpha in front of him made him clench his thickening cheeks together as they rounded into a soft bubble butt. His miniature cock ached as he felt his balls shrivel slightly. The last bits of pubic hair disappeared as his pouch took on a lemony tone. Seo-jun’s intelligence also stopped dropping, putting him just a few points smarter than the handsome stranger, but not enough to be dominant. The rest of his former life was pushed into his cum and ready to be expelled forever.

“어 그래!” the man in red trunks shouted anxiously as he shot his load into the pool water.

The two strangers looked at each other, both knowing that they had just come for each other. The one on the chair made eye contact first, his confidence burning from his eyes. The alpha Korean looked down at the pool on the submissive cockily.

The one on the pizza float looked back, scared to make eye contact at first but then suddenly drawn in. The submissive Korean looked up to the chair at the alpha sheepishly.

Before anything else could happen, the lifeguard, proud at his work, made sure to wrap up.

“Spa is closed!” the attendant shouted in Korean, causing the two strangers to snap out of their trances. They both looked at each other one last time before leaving. As the lifeguard locked the doors and the two walked towards their respective rooms, they only had two things on their mind. They had to figure out who the arousing Korean was that they saw, and they had to get a job at the hotel the next morning.

— —

Once the man in red trunks got back to his room, he quickly closed the door and threw himself onto the bed. He was quite cold, having ripped off the swim shirt earlier and suiting for just the towel. He got up and looked outside, the sun was reaching the horizon. His hair still wet with the sunglasses falling off in the back. The hotel had truly set an atmosphere just like home. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After a minute of vacant staring, he realized that he still had the camera in his hand. Once he turned it on, he realized that he had only take one picture with it; the handsome stranger letting his semen absorb into the towel before the spa closed. Seeing this, the man instantly got hard again.He jumped on the bed and began to jack off before switching to grinding. This continued for hours, passing out around midnight with the camera still in his hand.

— —

The man in yellow trunks had changed a long time ago, having switched into his favorite pair of sweatpants and a tight, black tee. He always forgot to wash them, so they both stunk of his natural aroma. The sun had long since gone down, and the man had closed the shades once it had gotten dark. The man sat there in a chair, enjoying one of the authentic, Korean drinks provided by the amazing hotel. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After drinking down the whole thing in one go, his cock began to firm up again. He grumbled in his low voice before jumping on the bed, ready to jack off for the third time since the spa had closed. The thought of that alluring stranger back in at the pool had driven the man crazy, he had to find out who he was. After he had come again, he passed out, exhausted from a long day’s work. His sweaty body emitted a putrid funk as the Korean semen sunk into the black tee.

— —

The alpha Korean sat quietly at the hotel’s coffee shop, a blended naeng-keopi in hand. He had woken up early, cleaned himself up, and had even wanked one out before arriving. The application office was due to open any second, and he was going to be ready. What he wasn’t expecting was to see the erotic stranger from yesterday sitting only a few meters in front of him. The strangers voluptuous backside was screaming to him. His eyes stared hungrily at the sub, his dick poking at the edge of his tight jean shorts even though it had received attention minutes ago. He got up, palmed his crotch, and walked towards the man, ready to finally meet his next conquest.

The submissive Korean sat apprehensively at the hotel’s coffee shop, a simple, unsweetened Korean tea in hand. He had also woken up early, cleaned himself up, and been able to grind one out before getting to the application office. He had many dreams about the sexy stranger in multiple positions. Dreams about feet, piss, feces, and overall submission were biggest recurring themes among other kinky things. Once he had got to the coffee shop that morning, he was excited to see the handsome stranger there. He purposely sat in front of him, knowing where his eyes would lurk.

Nearing the end of his drink, he heard the stranger get up and slowly walk over, but before anything coukd happen, the application office’s doors swung open.

“Wow,” the interviewer said to himself in Korean. A huge line had formed as soon as the door opened. “Looks like we’ll definitely have enough employees for the expansions.”

He ushered the first two in, noting that he might even have to start interviewing in groups with how well Lee Hae-jin’s plan was rolling. The first two were obviously eager, with one wearing a white button-up and tight jean shorts and the other adorning a lime polo and tan chino pants.

“Names?”

“Dong Hyung-sik,” the white shirt replied, not bothering to be polite towards the other.

“Kim Seo-joon,” the lime polo added, timid in the presence of the other.

“What job would you like?”

“Lifeguard,” they both responded in unison, causing the submissive Korean to blush.

“You’re both hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

The two confidently walked out, going towards the alpha Korean’s room. Lee saw them pass, smirking proudly at his success. The alpha Korean slapped the submissive Korean’s butt; they had some business they had to get to.

Hotel Korea: Chapter One

--- Originally posted on 2019-08-15 by dumb-and-jocked ---

The Lonely Husband

Lee Hae-jin stood at the top of his newest enterprise, filled with pride. Nobody could see him from below, as the immense building was over 50 stories tall, but he could see everyone below. The giant crowd had just begun the flood into the building. His latest accomplishment, one that would soon spread worldwide. His building, Hotel Korea, had just opened mere minutes ago. It was to become the biggest hotspot of the blooming American metropolis. It was filled with lavish resort accessories, including minibars, pools, spas, and a massive casino, all of which were authentically Korean.

Lee smirked to himself quietly, adjusting his crotch in his miniature running shorts. Most people wouldn’t recognize him in the running outfit, mistaking him as a guest rather than the owner of the soon-to-be expansive company, and that was the plan. He believed he could get the most honest, critical results if no one knew that he was Lee Hae-jin, but instead just his surname, Lee; so many people had the name that he’d simply hid in plain sight.

He looked one last time at the crowd, his muscles tensing before he began to walk away. He was excited to see the results after his guests’ stay. He believed they all had shockingly similar opinions after their time at the resort. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the simplicity of the hotel’s logo: “A Seoul-changing Experience.”

— —

James Parker was completely wiped out. In one day, he had married the woman of his dreams, taken a five hour flight to their honeymoon destination, and only halfway there realized that his new wife had accidentally boarded the wrong plane. He was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed, but to be fair he was exhausted. He had called his wife once he had landed, the two too exhausted to have meltdowns but still fairly ravaged. The plan was for James to stay in the honeymoon suite for the night at the new hotel that had just opened days before, then the two would meet the next morning. James felt terrible that his wife would have to take a red-eye flight, but he knew she was strong.

The two were psychology majors back in college. They had both met in class and, almost instantly, became an inseparable couple. They both looked fairly average, but their wits and intelligence were quite impressive, especially when put together. The only thing physically special about James was his large feet, which did say wonders about his large penis. It was surprising how such a normal looking person could have eight inches of hard meat in his pouch. Once the two had graduated with honors, they got engaged and married a year later. They planned to have an extravagant honeymoon night after they married, but so far that looked quite questionable.

James walked slowly out of the cab and grabbed his things before walking into the Hotel Korea. The new hotel had received incredible reviews, each stating their own “life-changing” experience. The couple had chosen it for its location, but James was excited about what else the hotel had to offer. He walked up to the front desk, which was surprisingly empty, contrasting the rest of the lobby which seemed rather full.

“Hi, um…” James fumbled over his words, “James Parker.” The young Korean attendant, who James could tell was rather handsome, seemed confused for a moment, as if he didn’t understand what to do. Then, moments later, something flashed in his eyes and he began to type away slowly.

“Ahight…” the Korean said, his accent extremely heavy, “You ah on top flouh in da Seoulmates Suite.” The young attendant, looked around, trying to find James partner, but found no one.

“She’s… a little late,” James replied, lying through his teeth.

“Ahh,” the Korean replied, “youh consiehge shouh be with yoo shouhly. He at da pooh”

Before James could ask what that meant, the young attendant was whipped away to another guest. A bellboy, also a handsome young Korean man, grabbed James luggage and walked to the elevator, hopefully up to James room. James followed a few signs, struggling to differ between the little English and lots of Korean in each direction sign. After almost ten minutes of searching, he came to the pool.

The pool was filled with people of all ages, most of whom were Korean. All of the bellboys, waiters, and other hotel employees where just as visually stunning as the first two. The hotel’s owner obviously wanted to set some kind of atmosphere. As James’ eyes surveyed the layout, he heard his name being called out in the distance.

“친구!” the voice shouted, “Oveh heuh, James!”

James followed the voice to find a young, confident man lounging in a poolside chair. Just like all the other employees, he was rather handsome and Korean. James was getting a little nervous about what his wife would think with all these attractive men. The young man wore a tight, blue polo and sharp chino shorts. His accessories included fancy dark loafers and a pair of sunglasses that hid his mischievous eyes.

“I am Gong Soo-Hyun, youh consiehge foh you and youh wife while you stay,” he said, extending his hand. James wondered if everyone here had the thick accent. “You can call me Soo-Hyun.”

Soo-Hyun went on to explain the rest of the day while giving a tour for James, describing all the things he would do as a bachelor for the night. James quickly followed and was excited to see all the different things he could do, but decided to go to bed early. He wanted to get a headstart to spend all of the next day with his wife.

Once he got to his room, he realized just how disappointed he was that he was alone. The room was enormous, and the view was incredible. He knew his wife would’ve loved to see this. He jumped on the bed, looking for his suitcase, but realized that none of his belongings were there. Probably got mixed up somehow, he’d have to ask Soo-Hyun about it.

James looked all around the suite for his stuff, not giving up just yet. He looked in the mini kitchen, behind the couch, even on the balcony. When he walked to the bathroom, he yelped, not realizing that Soo-Hyun was there.

“WOAH!” he cried, jumping back and looking away, “What are you doing in here?”

Soo-Hyun was sitting in there contently on the bathtub, his feet in a spa, wearing nothing but a black robe. James was thankful he didn’t get a good look, otherwise he might have seen more than he had ever need to.

“Calm down, James,” Soo-Hyun said, shifting his feet around in the miniature tub, “I’m jus checkeen do see if da watuh is wahm.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out!” James said, turning back slowly to look in the bathroom. He was desperately searching for eye contact, “What are you doing in my room?”

“Couples Mahssage?” Soo-Hyun said, pouring a few more salts in before picking up the spa and walking past him. James followed the handsome Korean man to find that his bed had been prepared this entire time. Lotions lined his bedside table and soft lighting had filled the room. Somehow, he hadn’t even notice the small machines spewing calming vapor into the air.

“I know yoh wife isn’ heuh, but I tought you migh need goo Korean massage,” Soo-Hyun said, placing the spa by the bed before tossing James a white robe. James didn’t really want to change, but Soo-Hyun told him too anyways. James met him halfway and stripped to his plane clothes, a soft gray tee and gym shorts, before putting the robe on. Soo-Hyun didn’t like it, saying it wouldn’t be an “authentic Korean massage,” but he didn’t fight it. James laid face-down on his bed, still not really getting why he was getting a massage, but as soon as the Korean’s hand pressed into his back, he didn’t have a single worry left.

As Soo-Hyun rubbed away, James began to realize how much stress he had on his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually relaxed, enjoying the fact that now he’d have an entire honeymoon to do it.

“You know,” Soo-Hyun remarked, getting some lotion into his hands, “youh 다리 (legs) are goouh. I don wemembeh de las time I saw Kowean man with haieh down deh.”

James was confused for a slight moment before forgetting as he grunted from Soo-Hyun hit a hard spot. He knew what Soo-Hyun meant, most men were hairless besides the head, pits, and pubes, but he was lucky enough to be graced with a very light coating of leg hairs. James was puzzled to why Soo-Hyun had mentioned Korean, but before he could think about it anymore, Soo-Hyun was caressing his legs with what immense pleasure. He hadn’t even noticed how he had translated the little Korean that was slipped into Soo-Hyun’s sentence.

As Soo-Hyun massaged the lotion in, James’ legs began to slowly change. The masseuse smirked as he watched the brown leg hairs almost disappear, becoming a very light, black coat. The calves and thighs began to bulk up, taking on a yellowy, tanner tone as his quads began to form. Although his legs were thickening, they began to shrink too. James height began to lower, going from six foot to 177 centimeters. James, too involved in his one pleasure, didn’t even notice how his feet were no longer touching the end of the bed.

“Ahso impwessed by dese 무기,” Soo-Hyun continued, grabbing more of the lotion, “You wouhk ouh ofden.” Soo-Hyun said it more as a statement than a question.

“Fouh times a week,” James replied, not remembering how he hadn’t been in a gym since high school. He also didn’t notice the hint of a lisp as he spoke. The feeling of Soo-Hyun kneading his arm was sending him into a new universe, and he loved it. He moaned quietly into the pillow as Soo-Hyun continued onto his arms.

Soo-Hyun rubbed the lotion in, making James’ arms begin to enlarge. The once-weak limb now began to expand, large biceps and triceps inflating underneath the tanning skin. As his forearms began to yellow, all signs of arm hair began to disappear as his limbs began to shed themselves onto the bed. Small black hairs began to fill in their space, but so tiny that no one could see them unless they were using a microscope. Soo-Hyun grabbed James’ hands, rubbing the lotion into them as they grew into soft, masculine paws. With James loving the Korean’s touch so much, he didn’t even realize when he had lifted up the sleeves to massage his armpits. Soo-Hyun grabbed a different lotion and rubbed it inside James’ pits, the brown bushes underneath darkening into a pitch black as they grew. They were definitely more impressive, but due to James’ now muscled arms, they couldn’t be seen unless the limbs were raised. A subtle funk began to permeate near James’ nose, but he just assumed it was a lotion.

“You have amazeen 가슴, Wha do you lift?” Soo-Hyun asked, pushing up the robe and James’ shirt lightly as he began to massage his back. He was inserting more and more of the native language, hopefully subtle enough that James wouldn’t notice.

“Usually 90 kilograms, buh mouh on my better days,” James replied, his voice muffled. He hadn’t noticed how he was slipping more into the weird lisp, or how he had used the metric system instead of his own imperial. James was to busy remembering all the times he had worked out, and enjoying Soo-Hyun’s touch, to think about other things.

With James’ shirt almost pushed completely up, Soo-Hyun had complete access to James back. He began to pound away, rubbing the lotion in every crack. James’ torso began to slowly inflate, the once mere chest filling in with hard muscles. Pecs began to form as abs popped in, each taking on its own unique form. The hairs that once lined James’ belly began to fall away, instead begin replaced with black hairs invisible to the naked eye. James’ shoulders widened as a perfect V-shape began to appear along his hips. While his chest began to tint towards an amber, his nipples began to expand on his large pecs, becoming much more sensitive. James’ moans grew louder as Soo-Hyun moved towards the neck.

“How lon have you had dat 목소리?” Soo-Hyun said while caressing James’ growing Adam’s apple, switching quickly into Korean. “It is smooth and sexy.”

“Issa Park hing,” James said, referencing his surname and cementing the language, “We ah have 자극 voice.” James loved his deep, alluring voice. He had remembered how many times it had been the reason for his sexual conquests. He had pounded so many women with his powerful voice. It ran in his family, the Park family, for a very long time. As he thought to himself about how appealing his voice was, he hadn’t realized that he was slowly beginning to think in Korean. His English was dissipating, and he had yet to realize that he was slowly beginning to forget his own name.

As soon as James’ neck finished yellowing, Soo-Hyun moved up to James’ temples.

“제임스,” Soo-Hyun said, reinforcing the language into his client’s head by saying his name in Korean. Soo-Hyun stay in Korean, hoping to push the guest over. “You are stunning. You know you are hot.”

Jeimseu’s brain immediately absorbed the subtle command as Soo-Hyun massaged away. His naturally shy demeanor was washed away as a more cocky, confident aura surrounded him. He was hot, and he knew it. In fact, he was more than hot, he was a sexy, intoxicating beast, and every person, male and female knew it. They all saw it as he shot his sperm into them.

Soo-Hyun, ecstatic that everything was working perfectly, applied more lotion has he recreated Jeimseu’s head. First, he straightened the jaw, giving it a sharper angle as he began to make his lips slightly larger. Next came the nose, which he enlarged before removing all signs of facial imperfections. Any signs of previous acne or blemishes were completely erased as a yellower tone began to tan Jeimseu’s face. His face reconstructed slowly into one more of Asian descent as his eyebrows were corrected. His once green eyes darkened into a brown as his hair became a deep, intimidating black before shortening into a more trendy, messy cut. What used to be a small stubble disappeared as tiny black hairs began to appear, just dark enough that you could see the hints of a mustache but nothing else. Jeimseu was now so deep into the massage that he had lost all control of himself, softly beginning to grind his mediocre cock into the bed. He also hadn’t noticed his intellect leaking away, slowly draining itself.

Soo-Hyun smiled to himself as he picked up the spa and put it on the bed. It wouldn’t have fit before, but due to Jeimseu’s shrank height it now had a perfect spot right at the end for him to dip his feet into. Soo-Hyun slowly picked up Jeimseu’s large feet and delicately placed them into the tub. Jeimseu was still face down, but the pillows did nothing to block out the noise of his moaning. When Jeimseu had walked it on Soo-Hyun in the bathroom, he hadn’t actually been testing the water: he had been adding to it.

This was all part of Lee Hae-jin’s master plan. The lotions and salts, provided by the Hotel Korea, were specially made back in Seoul. They would act as regular soothers to the common man, but to the touch of a Korean, they would act as transmitters, replicating the Korean genes into the user. Lee had thought of the idea as a way to combat Korea’s diminishing population and popularity; instead of finding new people, why not create them? He had proposed the idea to many investors and all of them agreed that it was a fascinating plan. After almost a year spent building the hotel, finding funds, and creating the products, he had finally put it all into action. All the staff members at the hotel knew their roles, and their real roles. With the masseuse rubbing the lotion all over the client’s body with his hands, he was subtly massaging the Korean genetic code into the guest. When Soo-Hyun was “testing” the waters, he had been actually activating the salts, making sure they would duplicate and recreate Jeimseu’s feet.

“You have beautiful feet,” Soo-Hyun stated, caressing the bottoms softly, “They are big for a Korean man.”

“You know what they say about big feet,” Jeomsou replied back in Korean. As Soo-Hyun massaged his feet, Jeomsou remembered how important his feet were too him. They were quite large, for a Korean, and they had been another reason that he was quite a stunner with the men. So many guys had longed to be down at his feet, to kiss his luscious toes, and all he could do was smirk inside the pillow. He loved his feet, and he made sure to take care of them. Pedicures, long runs, nice shoes. He also loved the smell, so he made sure to never use any deodorants.

While Jeomsou discovered a new foot fetish, Soo-Hyun worked away at the shrinking feet. Before, James had sported a quite surprising Size 14 US (above average), but Soo-Hyun had successfully brought the monsters to a much more appealing size. In honor of what they used to be, he made sure that Jeomsou had feet that were still quite big at 270 mm (above Korean average). The feet began to tan, blending in with the rest of the body, before pumping itself up. They used to be fat, but now they were plump with definition. The brown hair shed away, only to be replaced with a barely visible coating of black. The last thing that came was the funk. Soo-Hyun hadn’t meant for that to come, but he decided to keep it.

Before Jeomsou could react to the loss of rubbing on his feet, he was soon met by Soo-Hyun ripping off his shorts underneath the robe. Jeomsou, not remembering going commando, felt his buns being reshaped. He began to grind harder into the bed as his butt became two giant globes, bubbly and yellow. Once Soo-Hyun was done, he gave the round meat a slap and turned Jeomsou over, revealing the last part of Jeomsou’s previous life: his pouch.

“What are you…oh!” Joom-suo shouted as Soo-Hyun sprayed the cold lube on his large, white cock and balls. Not allowing Joom-suo to make anymore noise, Soo-Hyun quickly put his mouth over the large cock. Soo-Hyun was not at all ready for the immense size. The average size in his home country was just under 4 inches, so he was barely ready for double that. Joom-suo, after realizing what was happening, began to grind his pouch into the masseuse’s mouth, grabbing and yanking at his black hair in the process. Being a complete homosexual, he knew a good bottom when he felt one.

As Joom-suo moaned away, Soo-Hyun began to cup the balls and tickle them, riling up the almost-Korean sperm. As he did, Joom-suo’s large balls began to shrink, tanning and softening into something more reasonable from his soon-to-be homeland. As Joom-suo began to edge, Soo-Hyun began to ruffle the lube through the pubes, causing them to become a sheen black that shined. The last bits of lube were on Joom-suo’s dick, and as Soo-Hyun sucked away, it became more and more pleasurable for the top. It wasn’t because Soo-Hyun was getting better, but instead because his dick was becoming smaller and more sensitive. Joom-suo could feel his cock shrinking, each inch it lost making him more aroused. He didn’t know his dick was shrinking, but he loved the feeling of his head going from touching the back of Soo-Hyun’s mouth to slowly making its way across the roof. While he was sucked away, the last bits of intelligence were sucked away. Joom-suo had never been smart; he had always been on the dull side of things. He didn’t care though, why be smart when you can be sexy and stupid? It was all he needed.

As Soo-Hyun saw the last of the white skin sink into the ravaging, yellowy tan, he felt a geyser of pure cum pour down his throat. He pulled himself off, happy to see that the saying about big feet was still correct. There was still a rather large dick in front of him, standing proudly at 11 centimeters long. It was less than half of what it used to be, but it was still larger than the Korean average.

“Up here, babe,” a soft, yet demanding voice said to Soo-Hyun in Korean, ushering him to the head of the bed. Soo-Hyun laid his head to next to the former-client, present-lover. Soo-Hyun smiled as a lemony hand pushed off the messy hair of his head. His lover pushed himself up, placing his hand under his head.

“I think I might have to get a job here with you, it’s magnificent.”

“I know.” That was the last part of Lee’s plan, all of the clients would want to become employees in the end. Best way to expand.

“Put on some nicer clothes and go downstairs, there are open interviews right now,” Soo-Hyun said, getting up and fixing himself. That massage had proven to be a workout.

“Alright,” he replied, “but first…” As soon as Soo-Hyun turned around, he felt a gush of hot, steaming piss hit his face. He eagerly lapped it up and let it soak in his robe. He would love to adorn this scent later.

His lover quickly got dressed into the nice clothes conveniently placed under his bed before slapping Soo-Hyun on the butt and heading out. He walked down to the first floor, not needing any elevator. After a little bit of searching, and a lot of struggle trying to read, he finally found the spot for open interviews. He stood outside and waited, excited to pursue his dream career.

“Next!” someone shouted, and after spending a minute trying to translate the English, he walked in and took a seat, excited to begin.

“Name?” The interviewer now knew to stay in Korean.

“Park Joong-suk.”

“What job would you like?”

“Concierge.”

“You’re hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

I'm reposting some recent dumb-and-jocked stories but don't have all. Please also have a look at the archive compiled by @imsrtman!

It’s such a shame you don’t have a whole part for dumb&jocked! He left tumblr I think and I can’t find his stories anywhere

You can find most of the stories on this site. As for the missing parts, you may find them on my blog.

dumb-and-jocked-archive.blogspot.com

dumb-and-jocked archive

An archive of most of the content from dumb-and-jocked's Tumblr blog.

Good Game

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Originally posted on 2022-06-06 by dumb-and-jocked.

This was a collaboration piece with @rozza22365.

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“Babe, how did you know exactly what I needed?” Brenden asked, skipping happily along the trail with his boyfriend’s hand in his own.

“I have my ways,” Chaz replied nonchalantly, although it was evident he’d thought about this long and hard. The whole day had gone according to his plan of making Brenden feel as relaxed as possible. After a very stressful promotion process at Brenden’s hair salon, Chaz knew the 22-year-old was going to need a break. He planned a romantic weekend getaway involving time at the beach, a stroll through the local park, and a fancy meal for dinner followed by “dessert”. Chaz was working hard to help his boyfriend take a step back from reality. Brenden just needed to slow down to keep his miniature body from exploding.

And by miniature, Chaz meant the 5’5 skinnier-than-a-flagpole twink hopping beside him like a delicate gazelle. His stick-like figure (along with the platinum-blonde locks gelled up in the front and a pair of beach balls in the back) often made him a target for bullying, including homophobia. Luckily, Chaz was usually enough to scare them off. The recent college-grad was only 5’11, but thanks to his many years on the swim team had developed a modest frame. He’d also gained a comfortability with public speaking and argumentation thanks to his political science degree. Once he got a job, then Chaz believed he would have everything he would need to be happy in life.

“Oh! Honey, look!”

Before Chaz could even follow Brenden’s sight line, his boyfriend was already skidding across the field. Chaz walked comfortably behind, smiling as he noticed how the light breeze blew through Brenden’s salmon-striped tank and ripped white jeans. Chaz thought about catching up, but he didn’t want to run in his cheap sandals. Not only that, but the last thing he wanted to do was rip his khakis and sweat through his casual button-up. It was already pretty warm out, so any extra effort might have strained Chaz’s body in ways that wouldn’t be attractive.

“Yum…” Brenden was basically drooling as Chaz joined him at the top of the hill. About 200 feet away were a group of jocks wrapping up what looked to be a game of baseball. They all appeared to be around the same age as the couple, except each was about double the size of both boyfriends put together. Even from a distance, one could see the jocks’ bulging muscles, shimmering layer of sweat, and (thanks to their lack of shirts) set of washboard abs. And their gym shorts perfectly showcased the numerous perky behinds and overstuffed pouches. With their hats all turned backwards as well, they looked exactly like the stereotypical college jocks.

“No kidding…” Chaz joined in the ogling, watching as they packed up their gear and started heading out. The boyfriends couldn’t stop admiring how the jocks looked, strutted, and acted. Their physical features weren’t the only thing the pair noticed however. The jocks were all engaging in playful gay banter, fake-kissing and bromanticizing with each other. Although it was pretty obvious that all of them were typical arrogant, straight boys pretending to be men, Brenden and Chaz couldn’t help but fantasize about the simplicity of their life.

The couple watched on as the jocks got into two lines facing opposite directions, ready to give each other the classic “Good Game” sendoff. However, instead of giving high-fives, they instead swatted every butt playfully. Brenden and Chaz bit their lip, every jiggle of a straight male’s buttock translating into a tiny pulse of pleasure through their modest boners.

“Did we…” Chaz started. “Did we just get baited?”

“No, at least I don’t think so,” Brenden retorted, taking a breath. “I think that was all natural. Nothing gay about it.”

“No homo,” Chaz imitated in a broish tone, gaining a laugh out of his boyfriend. “Ready to head out, sweetheart?”

“Just a second.” Brenden was still looking down at the field. “I think the boys might’ve left us a present.”

Sitting on home base lay two blue baseball caps. Making sure no one else was watching, Brenden instantly made a run for it. With a small smirk, Chaz followed behind at a quicker stroll. Apparently tonight’s “dessert” was going to involve roleplay.

“Chazzy! How do I look?”

The blue hat sat comfortably on Brenden’s head, the bill shading his cute face from the harsh sun.

“Exactly like them,” Chaz responded sarcastically, placing the other hat on his head.

“Thanks, bro,” Brenden replied in his version of a broish tone before leaning in for a kiss.

“Mmm!” Chaz was surprised to feel his boyfriend’s tongue quickly slide through his mouth. Once they pulled apart, Chaz stopped any further affection, “Darling, let’s roleplay when we get home.”

“But no one’s here,” Brenden whined. “No one will see us. Now, flip your cap around.”

Chaz quickly surrendered, too horny to use any of the argumentation skills he had learned over the years. Rushed, he did one more sweep around the field before following instructions. Brenden flipped his own as well, letting the front of his quiff pour out of the empty hole in the front. Instantly, the pair felt a sharp shock strike through their bodies. They physically lurched in extreme agony for a moment, but seconds later they had already forgotten about the pain.

“So what do you say, babe,” Brenden tried replicating his broish tone again. “Should we…”

Chaz, getting the memo, leaned down for a kiss. He closed his eyes, ready to feel his boyfriend's soft lips touch the bottom of his own. Chaz kept feeling himself get lower and lower, but eventually he became confused as to why he hadn’t reached Brenden yet.

“Dude! Open your eyes!”

Chaz’s eyelids lifted to reveal Brenden’s crotch right in his face.

“Ah ew babe!” Chaz backed away in disgust. “How could you prank me like that?” Brenden however was laughing so hard that Chaz could see each one of his skinny abs rippling on his lanky body. The 6’5 beanpole was cackling up a storm.

“Gotcha!”

“I didn’t even realize I had leaned in so far,” Chaz joined in with Brenden’s jovial nature. At 6’4, he must’ve bent almost straight down in order to get to his boyfriend’s crotch. “Ok, so can I kiss you now?”

“No bro, we’re still roleplaying.” Chaz noticed how Brenden was getting more in touch with his broish tone, so he decided to follow suit.

“Alright then…broski…what’s next?”

“What’s next babe is a game of gay chicken.” Brenden appeared extremely eager for this. Chaz could tell by the way his boyfriend’s cut-like-steel and shaped-like-diamonds calves bounced excitedly back and forth.

“What’s that?” Chaz replied, positioning his own legs out into a kickstand. Thanks to his khaki shorts, people were also able to see the fine, rugged calves he owned. Similarly cut like Brenden’s, yet just a little tanner and meatier. Although if Chaz ever brought this up, Brenden would just compete by acknowledging how he was slightly taller so his calves were drawn out more.

“It’s simple, bro. It’s where basically two dudes get as close to a kiss while trying not to. The person who kisses first loses.”

Chaz considered this, a little thrown off by the game. The rules seemed simple enough, but why would his boyfriend want to play this? Chaz was so horned up right now that he could just stick his head between Brenden’s two massive thighs. Chaz could just daydream about how if he placed his skull into Brenden’s gym shorts, then his boyfriend would probably be able to break him open like a ripe watermelon. Their chunky, meaty size was almost tangible, but unfortunately that’s not the game his boyfriend wanted to play right now. Chaz instead reminded himself that it could happen tonight for dessert.

“Ok, I’m in,” Chan announced, suddenly enthused over the prospect of a challenge. He clapped his own thighs together in anticipation, sending ripples across his soft and muscular quads. Just like his boyfriend’s, they too filled his own gym shorts nicely, looking like candy with a tight wrapper.

“Sweet dude! Since I brought the game up I have to go first.” Although Brender had seemed excited, Chan noted the new tone in his voice. The use of “have'' accented a new emotion laced into his boyfriend’s words: fear. The emotion was also evident in the way Brender’s torso was super tense. The man’s abs were extremely hard, flexed to their max capacity. His tender pecs were solid while his silver-dollar nipples were rock hard. Even the man’s delts displayed apprehension, hiding away from their true larger-than-life wingspan.

Slowly but surely, Brender slowly reclined forward. To make sure he didn’t get too close and lose in the first round, he placed a porcelain hand against Chan’s carved chest. He subtly felt up his boyfriend’s 6-pack, noting how each one felt like a stone plucked straight from the earth. Brender’s finger ran up the valley into the upper torso, giving each of the mounds of flesh Chan called pectorals a cheeky squeeze. He also made sure to give a little flick to one of Chan’s nipples, which truly looked more like an udder than something meant for nothing.

Brendor got close, but he paused at about 6 inches. “Gonna be hard for you to beat that!”

“Pfft, sure bro.” Chant was pretty confident this wouldn’t be as difficult as his boyfriend had made it look. Chant took a similarly sluggish speed that Brendor had, making sure to move forward at a cautious pace. To assure he didn’t fall forward, Chant grabbed his boyfriend’s massive arms. Brendor’s forearms were so long and sturdy with veins accentuating their muscular mass. His biceps were so firm and his triceps had a similar amount of vigor. Even the other man’s hands were gigantic, looking big and solid enough to catch a baseball without the mitt.

Getting to the 6-inch mark that Brendor had made it to, Chant slowed down his pace even more. He felt his own brawny appendages become strained, his own veins snaking across robust arms. Similarly to Brendor, Chant’s biceps stood as two proud mounds atop his tanned flesh. His triceps had a identical mass, and his forearms displayed a strength that had been built up over years of hard work. His heavily-calloused, giant hands only furthered the argument by looking more fit for a package of Hamburger Helper than a human being. Right as he passed Brendor’s previous attempt, Chant gave an obnoxious set of kissy lips before taking a step back.

“Almost had me there bro,” Brenor replied in a tone that was deep, masculine, and empty.

“Huhuhuh, you wish dude.” Chent couldn’t help but guffaw, his voice an almost identical replica. Absentmindedly adjusting his rope wristband, Chent felt a rush of adrenaline race through him as he said, “Ball’s in your court.”

Brenor gave a quick nod, his bulging Adam’s apple shaking in agreement. Bending his tremendous upper traps, Brenor approached Chent’s face once again. While watching his boyfriend dip closer, Chent took his time studying every part of the other man’s face. A square jaw loosened gently with some baby fat that made him look extra adorable. Eyebrows bushy but his brown hair was at a crew cut length beneath the cap. Big nose to circulate air while working out and fading eye black to advertise that there wasn’t much behind those dull brown eyes.

Reaching in on Chent’s last milestone, Brenor carefully cupped one of his gargantuan hands against his boyfriend’s face to steady himself. He loved how it perfectly fit against the other man’s carved jaw, the way it caressed the other man’s Neatherandthal-like bone structure. He couldn’t stop himself from analyzing Chent’s crooked nose after being broken from a previous game, or the way that his blond crew cut matched his light eyebrows. Even Chent’s lackluster eyes had a certain shine to them. He wasn’t hypnotized by the looks however, he was just purely appreciating aesthetics. And with that realization, Brenor pulled away gleefully.

“Let’s go bro!” Brevor cheered, stomping his Size 15 blue Nike’s hard on the ground.

“I thought I was just about to win there, babe.” Crent playfully kicked Brevor’s shin with a Size 14 black Adidas, not noticing how the term of endearment had come out more like an insult. Noting his socks had fallen down a little, he faithfully bent down to pull them up before continuing.

“You still have time to surrender,” Crent sniggered.

“Nah bro, you’re about to fade!” Brevor may have been right, that last stretch was getting close. But that didn’t mean Crent was going to give up! Confidently, he grabbed his boyfriends behind and pulled him in. Crent may have been focusing on his game of gay chicken, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to feel up his bro’s ample bottom on the side. And wow, was he glad he did. It was thick and tough. Soft, yet too muscular to derive any pleasure from. Sneakily, Crent shoved a finger into Brevor’s butthole, finding it was way too tight to be welcoming.

“Hey!” Brevor yelped.

“Sorry, brohama,” Crent purred. “I’m just luring you in.”

“The point of the game isn’t to turn me on, dude,” Brevor sneered. “That’s a different game of gay chicken.”

“I just gotta get comfortable, bro. Just doin’ the same thing to you I do to a…”

Crent stopped himself, unsure of what word was supposed to finish that sentence. Instead of dwelling on it however, he continued. With one hand still on the butt, Crent slowly explored the rest of Brevor’s midsection. He found a pair of heavy kumquats hiding in the man’s shorts, so large they were probably painful to contain in clothing. Above those was his boyfriend’s babymaker, a soft 7 inch sausage stuffed not so subtly. Right as Crent passed Brevor’s previous point, mere centimeters away from the lips, Crent gave the other man’s dick a quick squeeze and backed off.

“Is somebro feeling a little frisky?” Brevor remarked.

“We’ll see when you kiss me,” Crent antagonized back. Not being one to back down, Brevor stuck his hand right into Crent’s shorts. Finding the soft 7 inch joystick, he pulled the other man so close that he could feel Crent’s balls rub against his. Even though they were separated by layers of fabric, Brevor was able to feel their succulent, robust nature. After giving the pouch a good squeeze, Brevor found that Crent’s buttocks shared the same descriptive adjectives. Succulent and robust, but also tense.

“What…what are you doing…bro?” Crent murmured, finding Brevor’s actions were a little less playful than his own.

“I’m losing.”

And with that, Brevor pushed himself into Crent’s lips. At first it was only Brevor kissing, but Crent got the memo and quickly began reciprocating. It wasn’t very long and it wasn’t involving tongues, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Both of the men felt odd and weird about the kiss, but part of them felt good about it too.

Immediately, the two men felt their dicks get hard followed by a constantly-looming need to touch them. Being preoccupied by their strange kiss however, they could only think of one way to resolve their issue: grinding. The two bros instantly started humping each other, as if the same, horny thought process was guiding their decisions. But with each rub against the other body, their attraction and horniness faded, becoming nothing more but amusement towards each other. The thought of actually liking each other felt pretty gay. And the more the two bros shared their gaze while kissing and humping, the less desire they felt. Instead, they discovered a great friendship and comradery towards each other.

The fading of attraction towards was closely followed by their homosexuality as a whole. Even though they were physically with their bro, they were mentally dreaming about boobs and tight pussy. Their homosexualities weren’t the only things disappearing however, as their IQ had been steadily dropping during their entire process of “appreciation of the male form”. Their minds began restructuring, new memories settling in and piecing together their new lives.

Flashes of sports, porn, and endless sex. Bad grades and rich parents, privileged backgrounds and dull futures. Lots of banter with the bros, even a bit of gay banter. Obviously, they sucked and jerked their bros off every now and then but that wasn't gay–just dude stuff. Sometimes they even destroyed nerds’ holes in order to make them do their homework, but as long as they topped it wasn’t gay. And a simple “no homo” always cleared things up though.

Laughing more as they humped, the two men (if they could really be called that) began thinking of this more as a stupid game. With so many memories of banging and impregnating countless cheerleaders and sorority chicks over the years, the thought of being gay seemed like a foreign concept. Just the idea of motorboating or ramming their cocks and seeding some bimbo made the two jocks want to-

“OH BRO!” they both shouted in unison as giant blasts of cum soaked the front of their shorts. With IQs under 90, the pair began showcasing the best of male intellect by jokingly rubbing their wet fronts against each other.

“You’re such a fag, bro!” Trent guffawed. “I knew I was gonna win.”

“Oh whatever dude,” Trevor huffed. “I wasn’t the fairy who was enjoying it.”

They both continued bantering with each other before realizing the rest of their crew had already gone back to the frat house. Accepting defeat for now, Trevor smirked and gave Trent a playful spank.

“Good game, bro,” Trevor ceded. “But I’ll getcha next time.” Trent chuckled dully before giving a smack back to Trevor’s behind.

“Sure, broski. Good game.”

Originally posted on 2019-09-03 by dumb-and-jocked

What a Johnson’s Made Of

Taylor was ecstatic.

Everything had gone right for him today. He had graduated with flying colors, he had just received special honors that lead to an incredible scholarship, and his longtime crush had just asked him out. Sure, the first two were amazing, but the fact that one of the hottest girls in the school had asked him on a date was the cherry on top. Taylor wasn’t that bad looking himself, being tall, slightly muscular, and having stark, black hair. His nerdy personality and short temper were usually what drove people away.

Taylor walked back slowly to his house, the evening sun setting behind him.The river was gleaming as he strode confidently down the path. Graduation had been that morning, and he had partied with friends throughout the day. Now, it almost being dinner time, he was heading back to the lavish mansion his family owned. As he strolled, he noticed a large new development being built. He gazed on, looking at the many construction workers. He scoffed in disgust - why couldn’t any of them get real jobs. He was on the route to be a neurosurgeon, worlds apart from what these dimwits had to offer. As he passed by, one of the construction workers noticed his staring and called out to him.

“Like what you see?” he shouted, flexing his arms to show off his furry pits.

Taylor quickly placed a hand to his mouth, holding back vomit. He gulped it down and then lashed out.

“Shut up you dirty fag! You really think someone of my life would lower to your animalistic standards!”

“Woah, bro,” the construction worker replied back, “I was just aski-”

“Asking what? If I’d suck your worthless dick?” Taylor shouted, furious.

“Alright, that’s it.” The worker jumped down from the platform he was standing on and quickly walked over to the student. Before Taylor could even move, he felt a large paw start dragging him into the fight.

“Hey! You can’t do this! THIS IS ILLEGAL!” Taylor tried to get out, but the worker was too strong.

“Shut it, bro!” The worker responded back roughly, dragging him to what seemed to be the middle of the sight. Taylor began to notice a weird funk surrounding him, realizing he was taking in the scent of his captor. He coughed, showing that he was obviously irritated. The worker, being dumb but not oblivous, grabbed the kid and gave him a noogie, shoving a pit in Taylor’s face. Taylor tried to escape, being covered in pit sweat and dark hairs.

Once the worker had taken him out, they stood in the middle of the development. There, in front of the worker and Taylor, stood a very muscular male. He looked to be in his late forties, with a rugged beard and dad gut. He definitely worked a very physical job, his body showing meaty strength and wearing age. He was reading the blueprints of what seemed to be the house being built around them.

“Boss?” The worker said, grabbing his attention.

“Harvey?” The boss replied, his voice stern and rough.

“This kid was causing trouble outside, I think you oughta be the one to deal with him.” The boss thought about this for a moment before creating a miniature smirk underneath his furry mustache.

“Thank you, Harvey, you can get back to work now.” Harvey pushed Taylor over to the boss before walking away. The boss pointed to the trailer beside the construction and walked towards it. Taylor wanted to run, but all he could do was follow. He couldn’t believe how much trouble he had gotten himself into. He knees shook as he opened the door to the trailer and closed it, sitting down at the desk where the boss had his boots up on the table. Taylor sat there quietly, waiting for the boss to say something. He couldn’t really see the boss - his rather large boots blocking the view - but Taylor could feel the immense power seeping out of the man before him.

“Luke Johnson,” the boss said, not extending a hand, “I am the manager of this development.”

“Taylor Stenson,” Taylor replied timidly.

“Well, Taylor, it seems yer creatin’ some kinda commotion, is that correct?”

“I wasn’t do-!”

“Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Taylor didn’t know what he added that, it just felt appropriate.

“Then, let’s getta the point,” Luke responded, taking his boots off the desk and placing his feet under the table, “I don’t have time to deal with you, and you don’t have time to deal with me.”

Taylor sighed in relief, maybe all blue collar workers weren’t dumb jocks after all.

“Let’s make it so that you never existed, is that alright?”

“Yes!” Taylor said in glee. He couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy.

“Alright,” Luke said, standing up and extending his hand, “it’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal,” Taylor said, shaking it.

As soon as the shake was over, Luke grabbed Taylor’s arm and pulled him over the desk. Taylor screamed in fright before his face was slammed into a giant boot. Taylor held his breath for quite a while, but eventually gave in. He unintentionally took a deep breath, the musk invading his brain. The powerful scent of pure masculinity overrode his head, giving his a massive headache. Taking the boot with him, Luke slowly lifted Taylor back over the desk and into the chair. Luke sat on the desk in front of him, lowering the boot from his face.

“There, that’s a good boy,” Luke said, “Daddy’s got you.”

Luke put the first boot on the ground before removing the other and putting it next to its twin. The way he said “daddy” bounced around in Taylor’s head.

“Why… are…” Taylor tried to speak, but his head ached tremendously. The foot funk was still lingering deep within his mind.

“Shh… don’t worry. Daddy’s got you.”

With Taylor still in his haze, Luke swiftly removed his tight polo and khaki pants. Both items of clothing had been truly showing off what lay beneath, as Taylor now realized that a true male adonis stood before him. Luke was covered head-to-toe in muscles with defined abs, powerful pecs, and gigantic thighs among many things. As Luke sat back down, Taylor became even more scared at seeing the python begging for release underneath Luke’s yellowed jockstrap.

“You agreed to this,” Luke said, his deep voice soft and sensitive, “I’m going to make it so that you never existed. So instead of being a Stenson, yer gonna be a Johnson.”

“But… I don-”

“You don’t have to understand, because Daddy’s here for ya.” Before Taylor could jump in again, Luke stood up from the desk and turned around. Luke’s large, muscular bubble butt pushed its way back, lining up the crack right along the center of Taylor’s face. Taylor, being so mentally disorganized, couldn’t argue as he heard a small rumble build up from within in the meaty buttocks. Seconds later, Luke let rip a massive fart right into the teen’s face. Taylor tried to get air, but the only thing available was the gas.

As Taylor inhaled the putrid scent of a blue collar behind, he didn’t realize that his body was slowly changing. As he timidly sniffed away, his structure began to alter itself to the new reality it was to abide to.

First, his torso began to bulk up. Taylor had participated lightly in the gym and some sports, but now he was truly showcasing something drool worthy. Years of exterior work began to grow on him as hard pecs and abs formulated. Meat filled in the loose cracks as body fat shrunk away. A deep tan spread across his broadening shoulders and the unkempt hair upon his chest fell away. His belly button shrunk in as his nipples enlarged, becoming ever so sensitive to even the touch of a safety vest.

Even though his chest had developed quite noticeably, Taylor was still being bombarded by Luke’s crack to notice anything. He also didn’t recognize his memories beginning to alter, rearranging themselves to become more appropriate to the better reality. Images of being placed in advanced and enriched classes began to evaporate as they were replaced with a regular level education. Special honors and scholarships disappeared as he remembered passing with straight B’s.

Luke slowly unbuttoned Taylor shirt before ripping it off, proud to see the promising chest that was displayed beneath. Luke slowly backed away from Taylor, making sure that every last hair on his butt would caress Taylor’s face. Taylor blinked, still befuddled, but before he could fully regain consciousness he saw a giant foot shoved into his face. Not thinking straight, he began to sniff the foot and - to Taylor’s and Luke’s surprise - lick it. He was fairly timid, but Luke didn’t expect him to be such a quick learner. As Taylor sniffed away at the massive foot in front of him, he hadn’t realized how nasty the sock was. Luke hadn’t washed them in over a week, making them into a somewhat second skin. Taylor should have been far away from the feet, but he was too confused to care.

Next, Taylor’s legs began to reshape. Days of running became weeks, months, even years as muscle was poured into his calves and quads. Thighs thickened, pushing the seams of the skinny jeans as years of truly masculine sports flooded his brain. Hard meat popped out as his dark hairs took on a lighter hue. His quads expanded to the size of melons while his legs lengthened, stretching him to a dominant 6’3, but still shorter than Luke’s 6’4.

Taylor’s memories also shifted, becoming more suitable to his closer future. Study sessions with friends quickly became practices with bros. Thoughts of easy tests transitioned into hard, brain-wracking hours were sometimes Taylor wouldn’t even finish. Times at home now became times in the locker room, where he had learned to appreciate his fellow brothers instead of his family.

Luke, believing Taylor was done, removed his sweaty, sticky foot and leaned over from the desk.

“Get up, buddy,” Luke said, with the words “buddy” and “daddy” dancing in Taylor’s head, “I gotta get yer pants.”

Taylor obliged, not really understanding why as his jeans were pulled down. He hadn’t even noticed Luke had stripped him of his shoes and socks. Luke sat back down and ripped off his old socks too, leaving the pair in only their underwear.

“Alright, you can sit back down,” Luke said, and Taylor followed, “time for you to clean Daddy’s pits.”

Luke got up and sat on the edge of Taylor’s almost naked lap. The powerful alpha was barely held up by the aspiring student, but neither of them cared. Luke then took Taylor’s head and guided it towards a dark, furry armpit, letting him sniff away. The scent was just as powerful as the first two, but this one had a lot more hair. The soft fur coated Taylor face with sweat, making him even more lightheaded.

Following were Taylor’s arms, which inflated with each eager sniff. Biceps and triceps began to appear as powerful tendons emerged. Beef and brawn were packed on to the appendages as all dark hairs began to disappear to a lighter coat. Wrists inflated as Taylor’s hands became much larger, filled with meat. He now had the paws of a man, instead of the hands of a nerd. The once skinny arms now looked to be more like those of a gym rat. His armpits also lost most of their hair, now creating wispy, but much more potent, bushes.

Taylor coughed, the scent from the pit being so immense. He couldn’t comprehend the life that he had once planned out for himself. The plans of becoming a doctor, inheriting his parents fortunes, creating a stable foundation all fell out from beneath his feet. As the year of sports and passing C’s filled his head, he remember the new scholarships. Paths for the future were now made from pigskin and spandex rather than paper. Taylor didn’t have a promising future in academics, but he definitely did in sports.

Luke slowly pulled back, noticing Taylor leaning forward while the pit moved away. Luke smiled and got back up. Taylor moaned in disorientation as Luke slowly pulled of his jock. As he did, a huge cock flopped out, the biggest that Taylor had ever seen. It was a thick as a can and it was incredibly long, standing at a proud 10 inches The balls were just as impressive, both the size of tennis balls and covered in an animal-like fur. They definitely produced a hefty amount of man-milk.

While Taylor admired Luke’s package, he carefully placed his grimy jockstrap over Taylor’s face, lining up the pouch with his nose and mouth. Once he had secured it, he sat back down on the desk and place his feet on Taylor’s crotch, slowly bringing him to full mast. He wasn’t going to let him blow just yet, he had to edge Taylor first.

Fourth was Taylor’s feet, which were rapidly changing as he sniffed and licked away at the vulgar jockstrap. His once pristine Size 9 feet began to bloat, his naked toes pushing out against the cheap trailer carpet. The once lean feet became meaty as years of running and stomping replaced those of strolling and dance. Light hairs appeared as the toenails became rigid and dirty, looking more like those of a construction worker than those of a rich boy. Once the feet reached a promising Size 15, they began to emit their own obnoxious funk, one that would never be washed away.

Taylor didn’t realize it, but he was slightly enjoying the disgusting pouch in his face. He also didn’t realize that his heterosexuality was slipping away. Many girlfriends became many boyfriends, topping men rather than women. A strong love for penis replaced that of boobs, while the thought of being in the strong arms of a man aroused him more than being those arms for a woman. His bros were no longer just bros, as countless pictures of brojobs and “lending a hand” replaced conquering a fair share of women. Homosexuality slowly took the front seat as heterosexuality left, never to return again.

“You’ve been really good so far, son,” Luke said, the word “son” joining with the others. Like got up and removed the jockstrap, “I think it’s time that Daddy gave you a treat.”

Taylor looked up adoringly at the sexy alpha in front of him, not knowing what to expect. Luke grabbed his dick and - after grunting a bit - let loose a hot, steamy stream of yellow piss. It his Taylor right in the face.

“Drink up!” Luke said, aiming right for the mouth, “It’s gonna be part of yer diet.”

Taylor instantly obeyed, trying to get every drop into his mouth.

As the piss flooded his throat and stomach, his head and neck began to adapt. A sharp collar bone pushed its way out as his neck thickened, giving him access to a widening, deepening Adam’s apple. As his register lowered into that of a base, his face began to shift as well, becoming a younger version of Luke’s. Taylor’s face became squarer as his hair shortened, lightening into the proper sandy blond. His lips became larger as his eyes adapter a duller gray tone. His nose straightened while his skull became bigger and his brain became smaller. The A light stubble grew in, one day to hold the same beard of Luke’s size.Taylor’s chin jutted out, creating a larger jaw and a natural dumb guffaw tone to his voice.

The yellow piss flooded Taylor’s system, enveloping him in a warm aura. He couldn’t feel his intelligence being boiled away, the urine eroding away the little left inside Taylor’s head. Memories of sports scholarships passed away as C’s faded into D’s and F’s. Graduation became a joke as Taylor began to remember dropping out of high school. Time at school became time at numerous construction sites, finding the bros who really understood him. The last bits of his old family and friends melted away as the new reality began to firm.

The last drops slowly fell and soon there was nothing left from Luke’s bladder. Knowing it was time to wrap things up, he grabbed Taylor and threw him on his knees.

“Time for Daddy to show you where we get the family name - what a Johnson’s made of.”

Before Taylor could react, Luke’s colossal dick was shoved in his mouth and down his throat. Luke wasn’t a patient man, but Taylor had never sucked a dick before. He immediately sputtered and began to choke, but Luke quickly readjusted. Taylor sucked and quickly got the hang of it. Not only was he a natural, but not many professionals could even handle Luke’s size. He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed.

The last bits of Taylor changed as the furry oranges Luke called testicles hit against Taylor’s chin. Taylor’s dick slowly began to enlarge, the once erect 6 incher beginning to stand taller. As it rose to new heights, his balls also began to change, growing from average to extra large. His butt plumped up as his cheeks filled with solid meat. Light hairs replaced the dark pubes as his cock thickened, reaching 9 inches of pure masculinity and looking almost as thick as Luke’s. He was meant to be an alpha, but just below this one man. His balls churned as he felt Luke getting close.

While Taylor became more and more skilled at the art of cocksucking, he hadn’t realized that his balls were churning with the remaining memories of his former life. He now felt a certain kinship to this man, almost as if he was his own father. The more Taylor dwelled on the subject however, the more he remembered Luke as a father figure. He had helped lead him to construction, show him it was best to be blue collar, made him realize that each bro was there to help him - or be helped by him. But Luke was more than just a father figure, he WAS his father. His earliest memories were filled with his dad. Showing him how to ride a bike, catching his first fish, helping him shave. He also showed him how fathers and sons were to always be naked with each other, how the son would deepthroat his own father when needed, how he was only allowed to act and wear what his father wanted him to.

As Luke approached the climax, Taylor’s body twitched violently. It was barely noticeable, but Taylor had just gained an extra five years to his age. His body had barely matured, his muscles were a little firmer, and his hairline slightly receded, but otherwise he still looked like the proud son of his amazing father.

Luke shouted as he violently came, semen rushing down Taylor’s throat right down into his balls. His own cum was instantly pushed out, being evicted by the superior seed of his father. Taylor ejaculated, completely ridding himself of his old life and reality. Taylor Stenson soaked into the cheap carpet, never to be seen again.

As soon as the two had gotten over their post-ejaculation high, the father and son cleaned up the trailer to get back to work.

“Crap!” Luke shouted.

“What?”

“I don’t have any extra clothes here besides these shorts.” Luke held up a pair of basketball shorts. They had definitely been used and worn many times. “You’ll have to wear these until we get to the warehouse.”

“Sounds rad, daddy,” the son said, walking over and grabbing the shorts. Luke himself was going to be rather exposed, wearing only an old pair of cargo shorts and large sneakers. The original outfit was used to clean up his son’s cum.

While the son placed the shorts over his naked body, he felt his father grind him from behind. His father’s bare chest felt so sensual against his own. The cargo shorts did nothing to hide his father’s erection.

“Can’t wait to see what ya look like in a safety vest,” Luke whispered, his beard caressing his son’s face. The two quickly made their way out of the trailer and walked two the other side of the development. As the son walked ahead, Luke could only smile: he was so incredibly proud. He couldn’t believe how perfectly he had turned out.

“Hey, son,” Luke said, causing the other man to turn around, “show me where the family name comes from.” The son smirked cockily.

“Johnson?” he asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s a Johnson here,” the son pointed to his left pec

“Yeah?”

“A Johnson here,” he then pointed to his right pec.

“Wow!”

“And a lot of Johnsons right here.” The son pointed at each of his abs.

“So hot!”

“And the best Johnson here!” he pulled down his shorts quickly to show his erect dick. His father applauded him before the son pulled his shorts back up and struck a confident pose.

“Wow, you’ll make a fine Johnson indeed!” His father said before the two continued.

— —

Once they made it to the warehouse, Luke quickly dressed his son up. The proper safety vest, toll belt, old jeans, giant boots, and a large hard hat to fit his giant, but empty, head. Once he was suited up, the father jumped on a crane to get back to work.

“See you at 8, son!” He shouted, “Yer gonna show me what a Johnson’s made of.”

Luke drove off, leaving the son there on his own. As soon as his father was out of sight, another construction worker came into the warehouse. He was hairy, dumb, and extremely sexy.

“Hey, I’m Harvey,” he said, he deep voice rumbling

“Travis,” the son replied.

“While ya wait for him,” Harvey started, referring to Luke, “ya wanna show me what a Johnson’s made of?”

“I’ll tell you it starts right here,” Travis said, pulling back his safety vest to show Harvey his chest. Travis knew the furst Johnsons were good, but he knew Harvery would think the last one was the best.

Originally posted on 2019-09-12 by dumb-and-jocked.

Comradirization

Jacob woke up with a start. His eyes were groggy, adjusting to what he assumed was the morning light. He shifted his arm, trying to scratch his head, but found he couldn’t move it. He flopped over, a little annoyed, and was surprised to find his arm handcuffed to one post of the bed. He tried to swing his other arm over, but found that it too was cuffed. He raised his head to look at his legs to discover that they were also chained to the beds. His whole body was locked to the four corners. Before he could panic anymore, Jacob realized he wasn’t alone in the room.

“Chacoob Kooglerr?”

In a chair next to the bed sat a young, rather handsome man. His defined body and proud beard made him look to be approaching his 30’s. He sat there confidently, his large thighs spread out as he sat there in just a small pair of white briefs. A small tattoo adorned his right arm, while the rest of his body looked as pure as an angel. Although he looked stunning, he didn’t smell it; Jacob noticed the lack of hygiene rather quickly. The man was trying to smile, but it looked more like an awkward smirk. What Jacob didn’t see coming was his thick Russian accent ruining his name. Jacob hadn’t done anything illegal or wrong, at least nothing that he thought would attract a Russian man to kidnap him.

“Vow do yoo zay eet?” the man asked, scaring Jacob. Jacob slowly pushed himself up to a comfortable sitting position, not knowing how to respond. He was too frightened to think of anything else. He had heard of people getting kidnapped before, but usually not by men who wore just their briefs.

“Ya get vaht I mean, yeh?” the Russian added. Jacob slowly shook his head, not knowing what else to do. The Russian grunted angrily, obviously irritated, before speaking again.

“Yoorrr name?” He tried to say it as clear as he could, but the exaggerated “oo” and rolling r’s brought him right back to square one.

“Oh,” Jacob replied, “Jacob Kugler.”

“Chacoob Kooglerr.” The Russian brought a hand to his face, smiling almost proudly, not realizing he had butchered the name the same as before.

“You Amereeican zand zyoorr dumb names.”

The Russian got up and walked throughout the apartment, grabbing items along the way. As he searched, Jacob took his time to figure out where he was. The room was fairly small, housing everything from a kitchen to a bedroom in it. It looked to be some sort of hotel suite, but Jacob couldn’t find any windows to tell. Jacob also realized that as he looked around the room, he found he probably wouldn’t be staying here long. The room looked clean and devoid of any decorations, in fact it barely seemed like a home at all. No photos, no scattered laundry, and Jacob quickly realized that his bed looked to be right after the staff maid had stepped in. He also discovered that he too was in a pair of small white briefs, not at all like the boxers he had last remembered wearing. He was embarrassed that he hadn’t recognized his barren body had been exposed to the world.

Speaking of memories, he couldn’t remember what he had been doing before waking up. He remembered walking out of his office early that morning to catch a meeting on the other side of town. That lead him to a train station, where he bought his tickets and went to the bathroom. Once he was in the room, the memory went black. Jacob was rather ordinary; he worked as an accountant, lived alone at 24, had a moderate build. His blond hair and blue eyes weren’t as appealing as they could have been. He wasn’t fat or skinny, tall or short, but he didn’t have enough muscularity to attract anyone of the opposite gender. In fact, the last time he had a girlfriend was in highschool. Jacob hadn’t really done much with his life yet, so he couldn’t figure out why he - out of anybody - would be kidnapped.

“I am Pasha Vajda,” he said, bringing over everything he had gathered, “Eet ees time to zbegin procezz.”

“What process?” Jacob said, shivering out of fear and being cold from his lack of clothes. Pasha slowly gathered his things and dumped it on a table behind the chair he originally sat in. First, Pasha brought over what looked to be a virtual reality headset, but it looked different than what Jacob was used to. First off, it was a dark red color, with yellow stripes across the back side. The straps that were meant to go around the head also looked different, being shaped more to look like a helmet. Jacob tried to fight back, but Pasha easily placed the device over his head. As soon as the goggles went over his eyes, Jacob felt the harness tightening, so hard it felt as if it was digging into his skull.

As Jacob sat there in quiet fear, Pasha placed the other items in their proper places. He brought over a small tube and linked one end over Jacob’s nose and mouth before hooking the other to a small tank with multiple compartments. He quickly placed two earbuds in Jacob’s ears while connecting the cord to an old iPhone, one that still even had the headphone jack. The last thing Pasha did was jump on the bed between Jacob’s legs, switching on the phone before opening a Russian music app.

“Zee,” Pasha began, “Eez my chob to zhelp creehte new comrrades.”

“New what?” Jacob said, still confused and struggling to escape.

“Eez zimple,” Pasha said, “ve need morre comrrades, yoo’ll be ze comrrades.”

Before Jacob could ask any more questions, Pasha tapped the first playlist that had appeared on his phone, titled “товарищество.” The playlist’s title was rather obvious, for Pasha knew the two would be sharing comradery very soon. Once it began to play the first track, Pasha tapped a button and switched on the VR headset. He leaned back and sat there with the phone in hand, his cocky smirk returning as the process began.

Jacob tried to protest again, but before he could his eyes were blasted with a bright light. As soon as they refocused, all he could see was a red and yellow spiral. Jacob tried to look away, but he was sucked in mere seconds. He didn’t even hear the playlist beginning, starting with the National Anthem of the USSR playing quietly. He also didn’t register when words slowly began flashing on the screen, flying in and out before his conscious mind could register anything, or when he had started to breathe the air being fed to him. A deep melodic voice also entered, saying the words that were disappearing fast, but only in Russian. Jacob tried to ignore everything that was happening, but it was all too easy for him to succumb. The process began smoothly, easing Jacob’s mind open for comradirization. The first set of messages flashed quickly on the screen.

“Real Men have facial hair.”

“Real Men do not clean themselves.”

“Real Men put brothers before others.”

“Real Men listen to other men.”

“Real Men only trust Russian Men.”

The messages were repeated for almost an hour before the first track ended. As soon as it was finished, Pasha pushed the headset up on top of Jacob's head and removed the tube from his face, allowing him to see and breathe fresh air again. Pasha pulled up a different app on his phone, showing the procedures of what to do after each segment of the playlist.

Jacob sat there dazed. He knew his mind had been flooded with certain commands, but he had no idea of what. He was still in the weird apartment, still kidnapped and in white briefs. He was still tied up, both of his hands still cuffed to the bed; the only difference from before was that Pasha now sat right in front of his crotch. Strangely, he was fairly comfortable with the situation. It must have been the essence of the Russian Man sitting in front of him, Jacob could only trust Russian Men after all.

“So,” Pasha began, “khow long ya khad ze faczial khairr?”

His accent was still as thick as ever, but Jacob understood what Pasha was asking fairly well. Jacob brought a hand to his face and itched his subtle beard. It wasn’t large, but definitely worthy of praise.

“Ever since I could grow it.”

Pasha smirked and looked at his notes before continuing, “Ven Vas ze last zime ya zhowyerred?”

Jacob thought back to the last time he’d been in a bathroom, or water for that matter. The rising stench around him suggested it had been a while, but Pasha had a noticeable funk too. Jacob didn’t care that he smelled however - real men were supposed to reek.

“I don’t remember.”

Pasha smirked again before he leaned over and placed the equipment back on Jacob. The Russian Man told him to stay still, and Jacob, knowing to listen and only trust Russian Men, did just that. Everything was loaded back on and set to its proper settings before the second track begun. New words flashed along the screen with a new scent. The last one was plain, filtered air, but the one being fed to Jacob was now raunchy, sweaty, and extremely pungent. Jacob would have vomited at how odorous the new scent was, but he was too busy absorbing the new Russian commands to care.

“Real Men work out every day.”

“Real Men are proud of their bodies.”

“Real Men only respect Russian Men.”

“Real Men are only comrades with Russian Men.”

“Real Men wish to be Russian Men.”

The second track played for a little longer than the first, causing Pasha to get a little impatient, so he began to pleasure himself. Once it had ended, Pasha awkwardly found himself halfway through trying to bust a load. Not having time to finish, he quickly removed Jacob’s gear and began the next set of questions. As he asked away, he non-subtly stroked his massive steel rod, knowing Jacob was far enough along that he wouldn’t mind.

“Ya verrk out?” Pasha asked. Jacob looked down proudly at his built body. Of course he had worked out, you couldn’t be born with a body like this. He had large pecs, beautiful abs, strong biceps, and don’t even start him on his sculpted legs. Jacob made sure to always get every part of his body, ranging from the sculpted shoulders to sculpted buttocks.

“Of course I work out, bro! I always know when to get in a sesh,” Jacob replied, not noticing the jockish gym lingo influencing his deeper voice.

“Goud,” Pasha replied, “Vat do ya zink of Ruzjians?”

“I think they’re incredible. In fact, I’d say there the best!” Jacob had greatly adored the Russian race as long as he could remember. It was a deep passion of his.

“I’d be a Russian and only be friends with them if I could!” Jacob exclaimed excitedly, allowing Pasha move onto the next part of the process.

Pasha swiftly tilted himself up and once more placed the gear upon Jacob’s head. As he did, his exposed, leaking cock rubbed up against Jacob’s torso. Jacob shivered, the touch of a real, Russian man thrilling him. Once Pasha was finished, he leaned back and activated the next stage. Russian commands were fired through the earbuds again, but this time the words in front of Jacob’s eyes were now in Russian too. The gas from the tube was also replaced, now filled with a dark, yellowly liquid that flowed down Jacob’s gullet. The burning pain of the constant piss wasn’t even enough to take him out if his comradirization.

“Real Men have Russian as their first language.”

“Real Men do anything for Russian Men.”

“Real Men only love Russian Men.”

“Real Men are gay for Russian Men.”

“Real Men are Russian Men.”

After another hour of pounding commands into Jacob’s skull, Pasha removed the gear. This time, Jacob’s head really hurt, like he had just studied hours for a hard test. He brought up his hands to rub his temples, also itching at the short, brown-colored sports cut. When he opened his eyes again, Pasha sniggered as he noticed their new, dullish brown tone. Once the headache had passed, Jacob made eye contact with Pasha, feeling flushed as he observed the beautiful man in front of him. His cock began to inflate in his tight briefs, a full three inches longer due to his improved, Russian heredity. He was so infatuated with the male in front of him that he didn’t even realize he was no longer imprisoned, or the lukewarm cum drying on his pecs.

“Who do you love most in your life?” Pasha asked, speaking in full Russian.

“Um…” Jacob answered back in Russian, his thought process noticeably slower, “I dunno…”

Pasha wasn’t satisfied with his answer. As if a lightbulb flashed in his head, Pasha popped up with an idea. He leaned over to Jacob, giving his cock a quick tug. Jacob moaned in response, before muttering out, “I love other Russian Men.”

“Good,” Pasha said before continuing, “Where are you originally from?”

“Russia,” Jacob announced proudly, and as soon as the words were said, the equipment was replaced for the final part.

Pasha clicked a few apps on his phone before sinking up the last section of the playlist. The end of the comradirization was always the most difficult, as so many important parts were involved. First off, two new machines were added: a milking mechanism and an infusion pump. Pasha carefully placed each of the objects in their respective locations; one would inject the Russian sperm and the other would make room for it. The other component that made the ending the hardest was that if it didn’t go absolutely perfect, the whole process could fall apart. Pasha had to make sure everything was ready as he began the final section of the process. The final words flashed on the screen and paired track began to play. This time, lots of messages flooded the screen, while the rest of the equipment pumped Jacob’s body into the prime, Russian Man he was soon to become.

“Russian Men obey the stereotype.”

“Russian Men love football.”

“Russian Men drink vodka.”

“Russian Men love to smoke.”

“Russian Men have deep voices and are dumb jocks.”

As the new reality set in, Jacob’s mind became flooded with new memories. Memories of growing up in Russia, going to school with Pasha, learning how to be an incredible forward in soccer football, and making out with other hot, Russian Men in the locker room. The smell of vodka and nicotine always on their breaths as they passionately kissed.

“Russian Men never smile.”

“Russian Men reminisce the USSR.”

“Russian Men are Orthodox Christian.”

“Russian Men are abrasive, arrogant, and rude.”

“Russian Men are alphas.”

The milking machine chugged away, pulling out every bit of Jacob’s cum as the better, more powerful Russian semun was pumped into his veins. Pasha loved seeing the man become a comrade right in front of him. Jacob’s growing body pulsated out towards Pasha. Jacob’s once-scrawny legs not stretched over the edge of the bed, his feet bloating to a massive Size 16 - just like Pasha’s.

“Russian Men are superior above all other men.”

“Russian Men want all men to be Russian Men”

“Russian Men want to comradirize all other men.”

“Russian Men want to make all other men their Russian brothers.”

“Russian Men are Vadja Men.”

Once the final track had ended, Pasha removed all of the gear and towed it away. He placed the white briefs back over the now goliath dick and tucked the large, Russian Man into the bed. The new comrade had passed out, the final part overloading his smaller brain. Pasha cleaned up before leaving, his job done. He was ready to find the next person to comradiraze.

— —

Yakov woke up in his small apartment, the smell of a smoky, alcoholic locker room pleasantly filling his nose. He flipped over and slapped his large feet on the floor, the meaty sound echoing throughout the small room. He walked over to the dirty kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka off the counter, and turned on the small television to reveal a Russian football game.

As he took a swig, he picked up his old phone and looked through his notifications. He had forgotten to close out of the comradirization tracks; he could be such a dumb jock sometimes. As he scrolled through a Russian, gay dating app, a text popped up at the top of the screen. He clicked it, seeing that it was his brother: Pasha Vadja. He clicked the tab as the first set of Russian letters filled his screen.

Pasha: hey brother

Yakov: hey comrade

Pasha: how’s my little Vajda doing

Yakov: its Yakov Vadja, not little, I’m as big as you

Pasha: yeah whatever. hope you’re ready to go make some comrades

Yakov: yeah, I’ll get to it real quick

Pasha: send me a pic of you first, for fun

Yakov: alright, just a sec

Yakov heaved off the couch, mad that he had to tear himself away from the intense football game. He crouched down in front of the mirror by the bed and posed, making sure to get the best angle. Yakov knew that his brother would nut over this, and he knew he probably would too later. First things first, he had to go make some more comrades first. He was excited just thinking about it. He looked in the mirror and then at his phone before taking the pic. He was so glad that he couldn’t smile, it made him look much sexier. He quickly sent the pic to his brother, ready to go comradirize.

Repost requests

Hi, I've recently reposted some stories from dumb-and-jocked.

If there are any more stories from the list that are hard to find and could be reposted, just comment below.

Bro-Job

--- Originally posted on 2023-12-04 by dumb-and-jocked ---

BRRRRRRING!

Rodney paced awkwardly in front of the door, two voices in his head battling viscously for control. The first, which begged the question “Why am I here?!” over and over was the more persistent. A 5’5 skinny gay psych major on Greek Row? Yeah, that voice was definitely winning. The other however, the one prompting the single response of “Money.”, was enough to make Rodney stay.

“Hello?” Rodney called out, his bright tenor a little too nasally. He had come in response to a job offer put up on campus. He didn’t actually know what the job was, but it promised “All dudes welcome, free food and drinks.” The free amenities would certainly help pay for his student housing.

After still hearing nothing, Rodney decided to investigate. Someone had to be home, it wasn’t like all the frat boys would already be out and about town. Actually, that possibility didn’t seem too far-fetched. With a huff, Rodney marched his way around the massive frat house, following the driveway to the backyard. Three frat boys were parked by the detached garage, their muscly forms on full display.

“Uh,” Rodney started out. “Excuse me?”

The three men, in a heated argument over big tits or big butts, turned to face the boy half their size. Two of them wore a face of disgust, but the third popped a smile of delight.

“What can we do for you, little man?” the third greeted with two Natty Lights in one massive mitt.

Rodney gulped, noting the major size difference between him and them. “I’m uh…here for the job opening?”

The other two frat boys smirked at that response.

“Hey Chet, looks like someone finally replied,” the first chuckled.

“Cheers to that, broski!” the second, who would make any excuse for a celebratory swig, cheered.

The third, Chet, couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright little man, let’s head in the frat house and get this interview started.”

Rodney nodded, surprised at how simple this whole ordeal was. The much larger jock tossed a bulky arm around the gay nerd and led him to the mansion. Rodney tried to hide his blush at the physical touch, praying that the frat boys wouldn’t see his small, but very present boner.

“First things first bro,” Chet started, tossing Rodney a beer. “We gotta get you a little more comfortable.”

“'Comfortable'?”

“Well sure dude,” Chet laughed, falling back into a crusty couch behind him. “I’m already four deep, so we gotta catch you up.”

Confused, but desperate enough for a job, Rodney cracked open the cold one. He took a timid sip, much to the disapproval of the frat boy.

“Nah bro, don’t be a fairy about it.” Chet shook his head as he patted for the nerd to sit behind him. Trying his best to ignore the previous comment, Rodney placed himself beside the jock. Immediately, Chet grabbed the can and lined it up to Rodney’s mouth, forcing the smaller boy to chug the rest of the beer.

“What the…!” Rodney sputtered, catching his breath. “What was that for?!”

Chet handed the kid another beer. “That’s how you smash, bro! Alright, next one.”

Rodney hated this situation, but he knew he would more despise a situation with no money. After some slight hesitation, Rodney pounded the second beer. Chet made him move through one more, joining the nerd with his own can, tacking their totals to three and five.

“Ahhh…” Chet moaned, patting the stacked eight abs underneath his sweaty tank. He then belched proudly, letting the alcohol take its course. Rodney could only watch on in amazement and an embarrassing amount of arousal.

“Now,” Chet tossed his meaty arm back around the nerd. It took Rodney a second to realize the warm, wet liquid coating his shoulder was sweat from the frat boy’s jungly armpit. “So the job-”

“Oh yeahhh...” Rodney followed with a short giggle. He guessed the alcohol was beginning to assimilate into his system.

“That’s what you’re here for!” Chet exclaimed. “It’s so easy, there’s really only so much you have to know and do.”

Rodney took a swig of his fourth beer, copying the movement Chet had displayed with his sixth can. “Well, what’s to know?”

“There’s that confidence, bro!” Chet took the arm wrapped around the nerd and gave him a playful noogie, the tangled mess cropping up into a neater bro cut. “I was wondering how long it would take for that beer pressure to start hitting you!”

Rodney wanted to correct the jock’s expression, but instead he let out a solitary hiccup. That was followed by a second swig as he watched Chet open into a grand explanation of the job’s responsibilities. 

There was a lot to take in, more than Rodney had thought there would be. The exercise standards, the room-and-board requirements, the daily bonding with bros. And while Rodney listened to everything Chet said, he didn’t realize he was also paying attention to the frat boy’s mannerisms. Rodney was so entranced at every movement of the broadcast. Every scratch, every subtle flex, the way the Adam’s apple bounced with every chug. Even Chet’s dazed-out dumbness and increasing amount of slurring was absorbed by the nerd.

What Rodney didn’t realize however was that each time he picked up on one of these moments, he mimicked it as well. The behavior was being digested into his psyche, the frat boy’s macho ideology sinking down into his core with each new swig of beer. 

While Chet discussed the height requirement, Rodney’s frame shifted underneath the jock’s grasp to notch him up to a proper 6’3. When Chet mentioned the necessary sizes of the biceps, triceps, and quadriceps, Rodney failed to notice his own arms and legs bloating out to gigantic muscular portions. And with each and every swig of beer Chet took, Rodney copied and pasted.

BUUUUUUURRRRRP!

“Ah yeahhhhh!” Chet proclaimed, dropping his seventh empty can. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, bro.”

With a hearty swat, the frat boy smacked Rodney’s small gut. His torso immediately deflated under Chet’s touch, sharpening out into eight stacked abs that fit perfectly underneath his cushy pectorals.

Buh-UUURRRP!

“Huhuhuh,” Rodney chuckled, not noticing his voice was morphing into Chet’s silky-smooth baritone with every syllable. “Like…that felt sooo gooood.”

“Of course it did, bro!” Chet obnoxiously replied. “That’s how frat life always is!”

Rodney watched as Chet groped himself with his free hand. Although it was more than that really: tugging at his massive cock and balls. Rodney then noticed the swath of pubes spilling out over the waistband of Chet’s tiny shorts, realizing the frat boy was going commando.

This typically would’ve excited him, almost to the point of bursting right there, but Rodney's meager dick had surprisingly gone dormant. Rodney rationed it was the alcohol, noting that he’d already started his sixth can. And he was thankful for the lack of attention anyway. If Chet would’ve seen him get hard over another dude, that would’ve been awkward. Yet Rodney couldn't exactly figure out why...

With one hand still handling his boys, Chet suddenly grew quiet and leaned in close to Rodney. His breath was warm and laced with alcohol, each tickling Rodney’s neck before climbing down his shirt, the shirt that had removed its buttons, expensive material, and sleeves.

Rodney watched as Chet got his hand out of his shorts and began feeling up Rodney, piece by piece.

“These arms, brochacho…” Chet murmured, wiping his ball sweat across Rodney’s thick, tanned canvas. Small hairs poked up in Chet’s wake. Chet then lifted one of Rodney’s arms and took a sniff, as if inspecting for quality. Sure enough, a rotten smell emerged from the chestnut groves that had erupted within Rodney’s pits, yet that was the fresh quality Chet had been looking for.

After a quick swig, which was repeated on Rodney’s part, Chet’s massive hand swooped down towards Rodney’s legs, evaluating the meat. Rodney only watched on with a lazy smile, propping his legs out into a typical, bro-ish manspread to accommodate. Without warning, Chet’s hand then launched underneath Rodney’s buttocks, giving one of his cheeks a sharp pinch.

“Hey! Watch it, homo!” Rodney shouted, not catching the slur or the fact that his exclamation had come out with complete clarity.”

“Woah woah, broooo…” Chet slowly pulled his hands back. “I’m just checkin’ if we’re sealed shut dude, wouldn’t want the fairies intruding.”

Sinking immediately back into his drunken haze, Rodney nodded along pleasantly. He thanked his bro for watching out for him, his hole silently shutting tight in response.

Chet let another belch loose before continuing, “Minddd if I tell you a secret, brooo?”

Chet got closer to Rodney, even going as far as to place his sweaty, socked, Size 14 feet on top of Rodney’s.

“Yyyyyeeah dude…” Rodney slurred back.

“Huhuhuh,” Chet started. “See the sorority…rity next door brah?”

Rodney shifted a bit in his seat, slightly turning his own sweaty, socked, Size 14 feet.

“I just banged like…” Chet had to take a second to count. “Ten…eleven…eleven…twelve of those chicks last week. I set…like…a completely new record brochacho!”

The pair burst out into a massive drunken laugh fest, tossing their heads back in an exaggerated manner. Rodney chugged the rest of his beer messily, some droplets splashing onto the bushy mustache crawling over his upper lip like a caterpillar. They both tossed their sixth and eighth behind them.

“Nowwwww…” Chet slowly started again. “We’ve discussed the bro-knows, but now we oughta get to the bro-dos of the Bro-Job.”

“Brahhhh…” Rodney echoed. “The way you’re sayin…sounds kinda gay man…”

Rodney didn’t even consider why this could be a problem.

Chet moved on, “Brah, how I handle my initiations…it's gotta be personal.”

“Init…inuiti…initiations?” Rodney tried to ask, struggling on the word.

“These Bro-Jobs dude…” Chet tried again, screwing off his backwards cap before fixing it onto Rodney’s head. “They're serious busy-nesss….”

Rodney snickered at the odd pronunciation, his jaw and browline growing more pronounced after each chuckle. He then tossed back the rest of his beer, crushing it in one of his massive paws.

“Brah…I need more beeeeerrrr, stat.” 

“Heh, don’t we all bro,” Chet crushed his own empty can before adding it to the disarray of the messy house. “But you gotta pass the initiation man! Your next beer can is your own!”

The frat boy said it in a way where even though the statement made no sense, in their drunken comradery it held like a secret code. 

“Wha…bro…arrrrre you sayin’-?”

“No homo man” Chet immediately quelled the alarm that had been arising in Rodney’s system. “It’s just a part of the Bro-Job…gotta…gotta add more of that frat sauce to the brew or somethin’...”

Both of them stuck their hands down into each other’s packages through their tiny shorts, which Rodney didn’t remember his own had been long slacks before. Or that he had been wearing underwear before. But what did strike Rodney as odd was the manner of this exchange. It still felt off.

“But…” Rodney tried to find the clarity he needed through his drunken incoherent mass of thoughts. “Kinda...gay brah?”

The not-so homosexual man flinched, his lingering sexuality slowly succumbing with the strangely tough pulls that enlarged his precious tap forcefully. It wasn’t long until Rodney’s pride and joy were surging with the same potent and propagating brew of the frat boy who was pumping him. His manhood was now a giant spout, with his swollen balls filled with the pure, raw hormones that ensured his kegs were always juicing.

“Dude…” Chet chuckled. “It’s not gay if you’re thinkin’ of all the chicks that will be beggin’ to ride this thing.”

After a hefty amount of thought, Rodney realized Chet was right. He wasn’t thinking about dudes or bros or nothing. None of the homo crap was even in his mind. In fact, the very idea of being a faggot disgusted him. All Rodney could think about was chicks. Tits and pussies and breeding them one by one with his vaccination shots. Except these shots weren't protecting these babies from anything. Rather, he was contaminating them. And that made Rodney feel good. Absolutely frat-tastically good.

“Ahhhh….brooooo…!” Rodney moaned. “I think I’m gonna blow!”

“Then do it, dude!” Chet replied.

“NO HOMO BROOOO!!!” The frat boys shouted in unison, their gigantic splooges pouring out into their bro’s hand. After the ecstasy had released, they both removed themselves from the other’s shorts and returned the babymatter to their owners, wiping each other’s work on the other’s tank top.

“God dude,” Chet replied. “Nothin’ beats THAT part of the Bro-Job.”

The newly-minted frat boy could only guffaw. His dreams, aspirations, and uniquities were completely gone, let alone his intelligence deteriorated down to the bare minimum. He was now only gifted with the simple desires of a sexually-overdrived culturally-accepted delinquent.

“I never got your name by the way,” Chet laughed. “I’m gonna need it for the prez so he can register you for the frat.”

“Hot Rod,” Rodney replied, the nickname coming out as if it was a programmed response.

Chet gave Hot Rod a brotherly swat before lifting him up off the couch. “'Hot Rod', huh? I think that will suit the other bros well once you finish the last part of the job.”

“There’s more, dude?” Hot Rod asked, following the other frat boy out to the front yard. “We both know I’m perfect for the frat life!”

“Well of course!” Chet then grabbed a computer and handed it over to Hot Rod. After looking for a little too long, Hot Rod eventually realized it was an online job board.

“I gotta get a job, bro?” Hot Rod asked, somehow making the dull timbre of his tone sound even dumber.

“No, dude!” Chet rolled his eyes. “The last part of the Bro-Job is recruiting the next member.”

Hot Rod’s empty expression signaled his lack of understanding.

“I just completed the Bro-Job,” Chet explained. “Now it’s your turn.”

Again, after a little too long of a pause, the pieces finally managed to place themselves together in Hot Rod’s head. With a thick guffaw, he made the job opening available once more before closing the laptop. He then placed the device behind him and took a seat at the end of the driveway, twisting his cap and assuming a cocky pose.

“What are you doing, bro?” Chet laughed.

“Sittin’ pretty, brah,” Hot Rod shot back. “Wanna make it easier for the next fag that rolls around.”

Totally Normal

--- Originally posted on 2023-12-08 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Welcome back to Totally Normal, the online show where we narrow down the one thing that makes us all meet that standard!”

The host then hit a button on his laptop, releasing an audio for an uproarious round of applause. With his entire audience streaming in live, he had to make due with tracks. He didn’t mind it though; he could always predict what his viewers were thinking. It was like they shared the same mind.

“My name’s DJ, and before you ask, yes I have a side gig in music.” A laugh track obnoxiously inserted itself. “I don’t dabble in the typical jazz; I remix these men back to the tunes they oughta be singing.”

Another fake round of applause. The host smirked before continuing forward with the rules.

“The point of the game is simple: Figure out that one thing that makes someone totally normal. Through a series of questions, I’m going to chisel away at our contestants until we get to the base. For every wrong answer, a vibration will be sent out to their device until they head back on the right track. We want to find out that one thing that solidifies them as an average joe, but we don't exactly know what that thing is."

The host then took a scripted pause. "Well, *I *know what that thing is.”

Another laugh track entered before the host silenced his imaginary audience. “So, let’s get down to it. We have our men here, but ARE THEY NORMAL?”

The last three words were all enunciated with the typical gameshow pazazz. The host even had an accompanying audio that made it seem like there was an audience chanting it with him.

On cue, the livestream booted up a panel of the three contestants. The first was a shy young man, who by his age looked to be in college but by his height possibly younger. The second was the typical corporate homosexual, the breed who was already happily married and wore tight, designer clothing. And last but not least, the third looked just a little older than the first with an office that displayed the inner workings of a minor start-up.

“Help me welcome our first contestant, coming from the cool waves of Cali, here comes Cody!”

Corey opened his mouth to kindly correct the host, but was immediately silenced by the massive track of applause. A small and nervous 20-year-old, Corey was an academically-fine student at a state school. He worked as an IT intern, helping others work through their issues in a manner where he didn’t have to fully engage. Yet he knew he would probably have to work through this introvert problem if he ever truly wanted to make a loyal boyfriend from the crop of surfers across the street.

“Up next is our cowboy-tootin’, bullet-firin’ family man, Norman!”

Nolan made a face of disgust, but he too didn’t stand a chance against the fake cheers. He’d settled down with his husband just about 10 years ago in the suburbs. Working for a Fortune 500 company, he had everything a man of his caliber could want. Great company, great style, great pets instead of real children. Nolan loved his little metropolitan life.

“And finally, the privileged heir to the corporate throne, it’s Asher!”

Aaron rolled his eyes as the artificial eruption burst through his speakers. He assumed that this narcissistic jock host had gotten all of the contestants names wrong. Aaron had built his own business up from the ground, an independent hard-worker with no one tying him down. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want a boyfriend, he just needed to focus on himself. That’s why he was keeping it casual, hooking up with boys a little younger and less responsible. He absentmindedly pawed at his crotch a little as the douchebag DJ started the game.

“Now,” the host cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Let’s start off with some easy questions, just to make sure those devices are working after all. Cody, you’re looking comfortable out on that beach!”

Corey looked around the library he was sitting in confusedly, neither comfortable nor on a beach.

“I think you’re mistaking me for the surfers across the street,” Corey tried to joke, but his feeble demeanor spoiled the comeback.

“Men…you all ought to be where all the other guys of your kind are at.”

All three of them put on bewildered faces.

“Cody, what’s holding you back from embracing that Cali life?” the host asked.

“I…I mean there’s the obvious fact that they aren’t keen on ga-”

BZZT

“Ah!” Corey ripped his hand away, the "vibration" more of a literal sting.

“Cody, what’s holding you back?” the host asked again.

“Dude,” Corey uncharacteristically responded. “I don’t know if they will accept me, man.”

“Bro, what’s there NOT to accept?” the host chuckled. “You fit right in!”

Corey looked over his short frame, his pale skin, his shrimpy figure. He appeared better fit for the library than the bea-

BZZT

“You’re right DJ! I'm a gnarly guy like them brahs! They’ll totally accept me!”

Corey looked over his tall frame, his tanned skin, his toned figure. He appeared better fit for the beach than the library–that’s why he was on the beach after all!

“Alright alright,” the host nodded with approval. “Now Norman, let’s talk about your life in the countryside.”

‪‘Country side’?” Nolan interjected. “Do you consider Houston-”

BZZT

Nolan flung his hand back, “HOWARDWICK the countryside? You bet! Population 402, the two being me and my husband.”

“And what massive land you got behind you, I’m assuming you and your male fling built that together.”

“My what?” Nolan peered behind him, noticing his garden he’d built with his hus-

BZZT

-the ranch he’d built with his hustle. Well, not technically–this land had been managed through the traditional good ole ways of his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. He’d just been fixing it up here and there.

Nolan stretched his thickening fingers, hoping to desensitize them from the pain. “W…What in tarnation is goin' on ‘ere?”

The host continued on, mocking the Southern accent he’d implanted onto the second contestant. “A place fittin' for a cowpoke like y’all’s self! Ain’t no city folk allowed; you don’t want nothin’ queer intrudin' your property, right?”

Queer?!” Nolan spat back. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’-“

BZZT

“Darn tootin’ straight! Ain’t nothin’ strange gonna be happenin’ on this ‘ere land.”

With the second contestant’s location rightfully reoriented, the host moved onto the third.

“And onto our Ivy League, let’s discuss ascension…I mean, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’.”

Aaron shot the host a dirty look through the screen. “You don’t think I worked hard to earn this position?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do it all yourself.”

Aaron held his breath. He was a decently attractive man with his slim figure and responsible will, and even his anger made him appear wiser than his years. But Aaron's best feature was his independence, and he wasn’t going to let anyone taint his name over that.

“What, do you think my current boyfri-”

BZZT

“-my dating his-”

BZZT

“-my friends with benefits were involved?”

Aaron’s fingers tingled with energy. His body tingled with fury.

“Well,” the host snickered. “If by benefits, you mean…”

“What’s all this!” Aaron flipped. “This is simply…p…preposterous!”

“What are you talking about?” the host egged on. “It's simply normal for a man with your caliber to have such an ‘inheritance’.”

The other two contestants watched on with intrigue.

“I…I may have a b…benefactor,” Aaron suddenly revealed, as if something had just been placed upon his chest. But he was still independent, right? “But that has nothing to do with it!”

“Benefactor? Do you mean your DADDY?”

The fake audience suddenly burst into a chorus of shocked “Ooooohhhh”s. Aaron’s usual calm nature was flatlining, being replaced by a more quickly-agitated behavior.

“We may be really closely acquainted!” Aaron backpedaled. “But it’s nothing of that kind of sort!”

The other two contestants smirked as the growingly-pompous bastard was taken down a peg.

“Sounds pretty queer to me, man,” Corey interjected confidently, scratching at his defining abs.

“Yeah, Ah reckon that fellas a little less normal than us folks,” Nolan added, adjusting the large hat that had secured itself upon his head.

“SHUT UP SWINE!” Aaron spat, his face gaining back a little of his baby fat as he absorbed more child-like aggression. “I'm perfectly normal!”

The two men laughed alongside an obnoxious laughter track.

“He’s right folks, we men are on the right side of history.” The host knew he needed to move on, the show only had so much time of course, but he was having fun. “Surely that father-figure is just some kind of…relative?”

“Just a relative, brah?” Corey asked as his trim cut bloomed out into luscious blond waves.

“Seems closer than that, partner.” Nolan quipped as a graying stubble crawled upon his widening jaw.

“A….A relative?” Aaron stammered, a higher youthful pitch lightening his tenor as this benefactor became clearer in his head. “He’s…he’s someone who I f-“

BZZT

“Father! He’s my father: Asher Osvald the Third!” Aaron screamed, his blond locks gelling up into a refined style that didn’t match his own personality. “And you all better remember it when you see our company in the headlines!”

Both Corey and Nolan took their respectful back-offs, but the host could only smirk with pride. After a moment of self-congratulation, he noticed some slight hesitation from the first candidate.

“Dude…” Corey started. “Can’t you just see he’s messin’ with us, man? Don’t you guys feel kinda strange-“

“Aren’t you supposed to chill, dude?” The host immediately cut him off.

Corey’s mouth went flat, his chin taking the opportunity to curve out a little further. “How can I chill with-“

BZZT

“Without the support from my brosettes across the screen, duuuuude!”

The host watched on with glee as the female portion of the livestream burst into a flurry. Lots of hearts and kisses and even some eggplant emojis were flooding the chat. And the comments were getting suggestive too. One chick wanted to know why he was wearing a dorky button-up, and she was soon exposed to his lean bod and treasure trail. Another suggested he should flex for the camera, and Corey was happy to oblige, each of his muscles pumping larger as he did so.

“Now, Cody,” the host coyly asked. “I’m sure the fans would like to know what you do for work.”

“I uh…I work with coding.”

“You are studying IT?” the host replied, incredulous. “Sounds complicated man.”

Corey beamed at the compliment, an excited fever entering his voice. “Yeah, but I sort of have a gift for-“

BZZT

“IT...like as in ‘it’ man...not ‘eye-tee’ or whatever.”

“But it has something to do with a code, right?”

“Well…yeah man…” Corey’s lifeless vocal fry responded. “But it's not that nerdy crap…something more…uhhh…”

The host graciously provided the answer, “Manly?”

“Yeah man….’it’ is the uh…bro-code brah.” Corey fiddled with the cross necklace that had materialized around his neck, trying to structure his thoughts. Corey felt like his head was spinning in a light vertigo, but not out of stress. Rather, a pleasurable confusion. Cali dudes don’t think that much right? They just go with the flow, so why shouldn’t he man? Wasn’t that what was normal?

While Corey processed his internal dilemma, the host reconnected with the second contestant, noticing he too was becoming a little self-aware.

“Hey Norman, you’re really rocking that fit.”

Nolan was honestly surprised at the comment. He knew he looked good in his tight, patterned three-piece, but he didn’t think the ultra-straight host would notice that too.

“Those shoes must be great for the ranch.”

Nolan laughed. “These ole’ things? They’re Prada from last season-“

BZZT

“Uhh…Ah mean these boots are from that one brand-”

BZZT

“Ah’ve had these kickers for years, fella!”

The host observed quietly as the rest of the second contestant’s clothes altered. The suit jacket and vest disappeared completely. The pants grew out into a straight pair of jeans that had been worn continuously for many seasons. The shirt rolled it sleeves and loosened some buttons, darkening to a dusty black that was meant for hauling hay rather than implying gay. But as the outfit masculinized, there was one item that stubbornly fought back, unlike the man who wore it.

“And that belt, how long have you had that?”

Nolan evaluated the expensive snake leather. “Oh yeah, this ‘ere was a gift-“

BZZT

“What in TARNATION was that for?!” Nolan yelled, the vibration noticeably more painful than the previous blasts. The material of his belt quickly grew cheaper, a massive longhorn buckle blooming forth above his blooming pouch.

“S…Sorry y’all,” Nolan collected himself. “Ah don’t know what’s gotten ovah me, or why Ah’m speakin’ so-“

“Enough apologies,” the host gagged. “You are a man, are you not?”

“Yessiree, but that doesn’t mean we men ain’t got to be sens-”

BZZT

“Ah reckon yer right there, partner!” Nolan puffed out his chest, carrying his emerging muscle gut with him. “We men oughta be tough! The MAN of the household.”

The host snickered, his eyes meandering around the second contestant’s body as additional muscle and bulk was piled onto his frame. “And men like you ought to have a body like that, don’t they?”

The cowboy huffed, his torso heavy with Southern pride. Nolan had worked his muscular frame up over all these long years, from sunrise to sundown. At 6’4, his big hearty body was always devouring meat to stretch out everything from his big strong biceps to his huge Size 15 clompers!

With the first and second contestants almost there, it was time for the host to catch his third man up to speed. He had already advanced mighty far, his skin having cleared up a bit and a few arrogant gold trophies having appeared in the office background, but the host had some additional notches yet to secure before the final round.

“Now Asher, let’s get real here.” The host put on his classic douchebag smile for the audience. “Any ladies tickling that fancy lately?”

“What?” Aaron scoffed. “Are you dense? I'm into g-”

BZZT

“Girls…no…wait what?” Aaron felt strange. Why did the host ask if he liked…girls? And why was the thought of girls suddenly something he…liked?

“Listen ere’, partner,” Nolan suddenly interjected. “Yer talkin’ 'bout women like they’re nothin’!”

The host, displeased, fought back. “Aren’t you married to one, partner?”

Nolan couldn’t believe the disrespect. “Me? Married to a woman? Yeah right-”

BZZT

“-Ah am! Ah’ve been married to my lovely wife for darn straight twenty years! Ain’t nothing QUEER happenin' on this ‘ere normal ranch. I got youngins to raise after all!”

As Nolan became bombarded by memories of his new flock of children, the satisfied host switched back to his third contestant.

“Look, I think we should respect women.” Aaron tried his best to sound mature, now finding it extremely difficult to maintain. “In fact, I think we should respect all others appropriately-“

BZZT

“And by appropriately, I am referring to overlooking these swines of colleagues who cannot afford a top notch education adjacent to my own.”

The host queued up a laugh track for his next one-liner. “They weren’t kidding when they said someone with your prestige had everything handed down to you, including bad manners.”

Aaron felt his anger rising once again, it easily filling his shortening body as he squared out to an average 5’9.

“Well excuseeee me! I am my own person with-“

BZZT

“My father is a reputable man who would wish to-”

BZZT

“DADDY!”

Aaron stomped his foot, bewildered at this idiocracy. Why was he continuously interrupted? Why was he not given the required recognition? He was captain of the country club’s golf team, rowing team, youth league, and the youngest member on the executive board for Christ’s sake! He studied at an Ivy League! He was everything!

As Aaron tried to understand why none of these other men appreciated the absolute honors of his merit–which he refused to ever admit weren’t even his own–a small alarm went off from the host’s computer.

“Like what was that, mannnn?” Corey’s face furrowed into an all-too-natural look of dumbfoundment.

“Yeah,” Nolan reared. “What's y'all gonna do next?”

“I demand to know it this instant!” The host was surprised at the third contestant jumping in, but he assumed it was just his way of trying to maintain his (nonexisting) position on top. “Or else I’ll tell my father about this-!”

An insane uproar of artificial laughter echoed throughout their ears, startling and silencing them.

“Alright folks, you know what that sound means!” the host grinned. “It’s almost time to wrap up our show, and because our contestants still haven’t figured out what makes them 'Totally Normal', we’re going to have to speed things up!”

“But can’t there only be one winner?” Aaron whined.

“Technically, no,” the host responded honestly. “All of you can be winners if you find out what makes you totally normal.”

For the first time since the game had started, all three of the contestants fell silent.

“I mean, let’s look at our surfer stud Cody,” the host started. “You are almost there, but you gotta loosen that one thing that’s still pent-up, man.”

“Brah…” Corey complained. “What else is there?”

As if by some subconscious command from the host, Corey began dumbly palming himself, a light drool dripping from the edge of his lips. The constant cycle of tits and feminine bits in his mind bombarding all over thoughts.

“A totally gnarly surfer focuses on working out, banging chicks, and chillin’ dude.”

Corey guffawed with a stupid relaxed expression, casually groping as the host moved on.

“And Norman, you’ve worked hard for your position in life, haven’t you?”

The Texan father nodded in cold agreement.

“So what would pride a totally traditional cowboy more than his ranch, his woman, and his legacy?”

Nolan groaned as he instantly unbuckled the massive lock hiding his mighty steed. Huffing loudly, the Southern Baptist’s lil’ pony was wrangled into a full-fledged stallion, the kind that was built to produce offspring. And the kind that got worked up over anything that could threaten the generational uniformity his family, religion, and nation he swore to protect.

“And you, Asher,” the host swiped over to the final contestant. “What’s stopping you from becoming the total Harvard bastard?”

Asher’s face went red and his cock went hard.

“I’m talking complete corruption, pure privilege, Daddy’s little-”

The host was suddenly cut off by a loud holler, the exclaim like the crashing waves of the ocean. Immediately, the comment section blew up as the host, players, and audience watched the surfer jock release a blast of his sea salt spray.

But before the host could congratulate the first winner, the southern father turned around the corner. With one hand whipping his meat and the other held tightly onto his hat, it was only mere moments until the inevitable:

“YEEHAW!”

Once again, the audience burst into merriment over the propagating blast. It was then that Aaron’s anger truly took the best of him. He couldn’t be beaten by two no-names! He was the top of his class, an heir to a Fortune 500 company, and a totally normal man for Christ’s sake! Gripping his pecker and shining it furiously, Aaron accepted his heterosexual rage and vowed that he would win and please his…please his…!

“F…FAAAAATHERR!”

A loud, pretentious yell echoed out of the Harvard student, an endless splurge of funds dumping out of his mighty account. It was just one of the many things his heritage’s estate had granted him.

The host didn’t try to hide his devious sneer as the viewers erupted once more. He’d loved his job because everyone won every time. And now, seeing all the new stereotypical straights he’d created, the host couldn’t help but feel his own massive sausage chub. But he laughed the feeling off, knowing beating off over these other men wouldn’t have been “totally normal.”

“And it looks like with just a minute left on the clock, all three of our contestants will be going home as winners today!” The host then added his artificial rounds of applause. “So, did you three ever figure out what makes you ‘Totally Normal’?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brah?” Cody replied, the typical airhead more sure of himself now than when he had dropped out of high school. “It’s that we’re straight, mannnn…”

“He’s right, partner!” Norman added, his fatherly conviction always strong and steady. “Ain’t none of us are them faggots. If Ah do say so myself, we are all what the mighty Lord named men.”

“Well, if that is what common plebians such as yourself are called, then you shall address me as ‘I-V’,” Asher Osvald IV’s voice was doused in entitlement and a lack of understanding for anyone but himself. A pair of offscreen hands adjusted his tie just to prove his privilege. “After all, I do attend Harvard. I guess you could say I was destined for greatness since birth.”

“Yes, Asher, everyone here knows you are a prick.” The host immediately followed up his quip with a laugh track. “But that’s all we have for today’s show. Signing off, this is Host DJ!”

“Hang ten and surfs up, dudes!”

“The biggest rodeo’s the family and kids y’all!”

“I’m probably way richer than you vagrants, so don’t bother.”

“And don’t forget to ask yourself,” the host winked before adding in the final audio. “ARE YOU NORMAL?”

Red Wave

--- Originally posted on 2023-01-05 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Ethan rushed home as fast as he could, excited to finally be able to play the most popular video game on the market. At $25, Red Wave certainly wasn’t one of the most expensive games out there, but it had still been out of Ethan’s price range when it had dropped a few weeks ago. Since then, the game had blown up all over the internet and had even been promoted in the news. Well, Fox News (they had thought the title “Red Wave” was associated with the prophesied Republican rebound), but still news nonetheless. 

People were obsessed with it, and it was pretty obvious why. Although Ethan hadn’t actually played the game yet, he already knew how it worked. Red Wave was an alternative survival game, one of those campaign-style strategies where the player tries to live as long as possible under growing amounts of enemies. It was paintball, blue versus red. As the game progressed, the player was able to buy upgrades and unlock new parts of the map, but every round a new “red wave” would descend upon them. 

What made the game unique however was that if the player was hit by a red paintball, they could not earn health back. They would be stuck with that health throughout the rest of the game until it was slowly lowered down to 0. Not only that, but Red Wave could only be played once through. Somehow, the company behind the game had been able to put an uninstaller agent deeply rooted inside the game. This meant that once the player died, the game deleted itself permanently from the console’s system and became completely inaccessible. Since Red Wave had launched, nobody had been able to figure out how to reinstall the game back on its original console.

Unlocking his apartment’s front door, Ethan quickly shut it behind him and kicked off his loafers. He then loosened his tie and threw his argyle socks towards the hamper. Usually, Ethan would have been a less careless when he got home, but the 5'7 gaymer was way too excited to dive into Red Wave. Within moments, he had his console booting up and then the game purchased and downloaded. 

While he waited, Ethan strolled to the mirror underneath his pride flag to unbutton his shirt a little, noting that it was a bit tight near the bottom. It seemed like the fast-food lunches he’d recently been treating himself to were taking a toll, the small paunch alerting him that he didn’t have an athlete’s metabolism. Not only that, but the fat gathering up around his cheeks was certainly not to be blamed on by his youth. The curly, black locks paired with the chubby face did make him look boyish however.

“Maybe I should start dieting…” Ethan mumbled as he heard a ding from across the room. Instantly, he rushed over to his chair and grabbed the controller. Red Wave was displayed broadly on the monitor. Flashes of red blotched themselves on the screen, and without hesitating Ethan pressed play. He was then presented with the initial agreement and warning, stating that the player would only be able to engage in the game once and when started would not be able to stop. Besides money, that was also why Ethan had waited so long to play the game–he wanted to see how long he could make it without stopping. With the whole weekend ahead of him, he was sure he’d get himself an impressive, braggable score.

The game was pretty simple at first. Ethan was equipped with a basic paintball gun, and his blue paintballs would knock out the red opponents before they even had a chance to fight back. Ethan was a pretty invested gaymer, but video games were always second to the real world for him. As a founding member of his university’s branch of the Gender-Sexuality Alliance and the president of the Business Casual Club along with the work of his graduate studies, Ethan was almost always focused on reality. However, when he did have time to escape to a virtual world, Ethan would always be found with a controller between his gentle hands. And he had become good at shooter games because of it.

A couple of hours had passed by and Ethan had already unlocked a third of the map, upgraded his paintball gun to fire more rounds at once, and had unlocked a variety of paint bombs. Currently, he was saving up for a bowling ball explosive–a giant blue paintball that would roll down the enemy team and explode after a few seconds. Ethan did notice that each new wave was getting a little more difficult though. The enemies were always a little bit faster, a little bit more competent, and had recently begun spawning themselves in numbers that Ethan couldn’t take out all at once. He wasn’t alarmed however; he still had too many things to unlock and plenty of time left.

When he got hit by a red paintball the first time, Ethan was literally shocked. As in physically shocked. His controller sent out a tiny pulse that sparked across Ethan’s bloodstream, causing him to twitch as the red paint stained itself on his blue player. It was harsh, but Ethan owed it to Red Wave having impressive haptics. In the top left corner of his screen, he watched as his blue health bar lowered just barely. It tainted itself a little too, becoming a darker hue. The concentrated smile that Ethan had been wearing faltered slightly, but in moments he had regained himself and the round was over. He quickly reloaded his gun and moved around the map to purchase some more items.

While Ethan prepared for the next round, he didn’t notice that his body had stretched along his gaming chair. Once at an average height, his torso and legs had elongated after the initial shock that had emitted from his controller. Inch by inch, his bones lengthened and brought flesh and tissue along with it. By the time the round had finished, Ethan would now stand at a well-reaching 6’1. But due to him sitting down, Ethan didn’t register that his head was now almost completely above his gaming chair, or that he was now leaning back slightly in order to give his legs more room.

Ethan continued on, racking up additional points as he became more invested in the game. As time ticked by, Ethan gained stronger power-ups. By four hours in, he was able to run faster across the map, now granting himself access to half of the rooms available. Just a little while later, his paintball gun was upgraded to having two barrels, allowing him to shoot more than one blue-splattering bullet at a time. He gained access to more explosives and traps, and was soon covering the map in different devices to explode any red enemies before they even reached him.

A second shock emitted from his controller after he was hit by a sniper, a new character that had emerged only a few waves earlier. Grunting, Ethan instantly shot back and killed the enemy, yet the damage had already been done. His health bar depleted a little further, shifting into something akin to indigo. Ethan however continued playing, defending himself well against the waves of red that descended upon him. As he did, his legs slowly firmed up underneath his pressed khakis. They grew thinner and more muscular at the same time, gaining strength as they became sharpened from years of running rather than sitting. Ethan’s quads too gained bulk, solidifying as a soft coat of hair descended upon his thighs and calves.

Ethan released a small sigh as he defeated the last enemy, the blue-stained character melting downwards and dissolving into the ground. He quickly did what he had done countless times before: purchased a few traps, stored some more explosives, and browsed across the upgrades he should be saving up for. As soon as he was finished, the round number flashed on the screen and he was back in the game.

The next shock came a little bit quicker than Ethan had thought it would, and a little harder too. It had only been a few rounds since the last hit, but this time he had been caught by a sentry. The robotic cannon had landed its target on Ethan’s blue character before he had had time to react, blasting a red laser right through the player. It took a little bit more health off of him then the other hits had. Ethan blamed this on the game’s length however. The longer the game went on, then probably the harder each “red wave” would hit. The bar in the top left shifted accordingly while also brightening up a tad.

Ethan pushed forward through the round. In his chair, his straight back slowly bubbled along the surface as it filled in with muscle. His shoulders broadened outwards, but as the changes descended lower, his proportions shrunk inwards. Ethan’s growing moobs hardened and pulled back into sturdy pectorals. The expanded stomach he noted earlier imploded into itself, leaving behind defined abs. It suctioned all the way back to the iliac crest to allow for a defined Adonis belt to emerge at the bottom of Ethan’s chest. A dusting of hair also accumulated around his belly button and slowly tread its way downwards.

Ethan made it through another hour before being greeted by a fourth shock from a grenade. Luckily, he hadn’t been hit full-on, but his health did alter into a classic purple. He ran his character away from the scene to protect himself. Ethan then decided to carefully stroll through hallways to eliminate the remaining enemies in smaller groups rather than the wave all at once. Unbeknownst to him, his arms began bulking up underneath his sleeves. Although they were rather average before, they now became a little larger and toned. Nothing too dramatic, but still defined enough to garner a reaction from any stranger when displayed. His forearms also slimmed enough to display veins while a generous helping of fur coated both tops and fluffed out his armpits. Finally, his tender hands became beefy mitts as his fingers grew thick and his palms became calloused.

The next shock came rather quickly, angering Ethan slightly as he noticed he’d missed a simple guard that had spawned near a door. It took him a little longer than he thought it would to take care of the matter, but he did destroy both the guard and the rest of the wave. His health bar had now lightened into a more magenta-like shade. He further upgraded his gun and placed a few more traps, including one specifically in front of the door he’d just been caught at. He’d opened up almost all of the map and had already gotten the majority of the weapons enhancements. Now he just had to save up and survive.

Ethan may have finished the round containing the loathed guard, but not without its consequences. The spark of electricity had coursed its way up its neck, pushing the flesh outwards to make room for expanding vocal chords. His Adam’s apple became more pronounced, dropping his voice a few octaves and erasing any vocal notes of intelligence and character. His jaw was next, the chubbier cheeks sinking in as his bones cracked and restructured into a squarer, more masculine lantern cut. His nose made a gruesome crunch as it popped out and adorned a new previously-broken shape. The ears grew and studded themselves, the brow ridge jutted out a little further, and the forehead became more prominent to give Ethan a macho, yet devolved look. His hair was the last touch, straightening out and diminishing into a regular dark brown as it was pulled back and fluffed outwards at the end, as if it had been trained to permanently cushion a backwards cap.

With less than 10 upgrades yet to purchase and one room yet to unlock, Ethan cursed when he was hit by a barrage of mini shocks from a machine gun. Each shot didn’t take off too much health, but put together they brought the bar in the top left corner into a definite, murkier pink zone. It took Ethan a while to rebound back, but after a grueling back and forth, he eventually eliminated both the gunner and a good portion of the rest of the wave. He retreated back into emptier parts of the map to reuse the same strategy he had successfully conceived earlier: taking down small groups at a time.

Ethan carefully perused each room and hallway, his blue paintballs coating the red enemies before they had even spotted him. While pushing on, his attire and room shifted accordingly. The buttons on his shirt popped off one by one as the fabric was pulled together into something less starchy. The dyes darkened to black and a hood bloomed out of the collar, changing the button-up into a simpler hoodie. His khaki’s were hit next, softening and becoming cuffed at the bottom as they too blackened into ordinary sweats. Underneath, his briefs expanded into faded, well-used checkered boxers, and upon his head arrived the black baseball cap his hair had been anxiously waiting for. 

The changes around Ethan’s room also faced various levels of simplification. His attire became copies of what he was wearing, and the articles themselves were now tossed on the floor and dirty rather than hung in the closet and clean. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a layer of dust and grime laid itself carefully around the apartment, and a bulk supply of pregnancy tests appeared underneath the desk. Behind Ethan, the pride flag above his mirror shifted too. The rainbow stripes faded into a deep navy as bolded, white letters displayed themselves upon the fabric to proclaim a different form of pride.

It had taken Ethan awhile, but he eventually purchased the last of the upgrades for his paintball gun. All he had left was the final room to completely unlock the map. It was extremely expensive, but he assumed it was for a good reason. He didn’t know what happened when he would open that last room (Did it complete the game, or would he have to keep going until he died?), but he assumed it had to be glorious. Ethan would have to play it extra safe however, because before he realized it another sniper had once again hit him and brought his health to a strawberry hue.

Propping his feet up on the desk holding his monitor, Ethan leaned further back into his chair as he dedicated his entire focus to Red Wave. Because of this, he didn’t see his feet slowly bloating upwards and outward even though they were right in front of him. Each tiny, miniscule bone cracked and stretched as his toes plumped out and grew like tiny stalks upwards. His soles plumped as tiny hairs raced across the tops of the growing landscapes. As a cherry on top, a soft, yet potent smell began to emerge from the new wide and heavy Size 13 feet. Yet their larger, cushiony nature was yet to be observed by Ethan who was completely concentrated on unlocking that last room.

After some careful, patient grinding, Ethan had finally earned enough money to expand into the final part of the map. He didn’t know what would come next, or how long he would continue fighting on, but he was ready. He had completely lost track of time, and by now the round numbers were just a blur when they passed by. It had become too bothersome to interpret the Roman numerals, so Ethan had just started to ignore them. Licking his lips anxiously, he finished the current round and instantly ran his character over to the final room. Ethan was feeling less excited and more determined at this point to open the room, the game having transformed into a mission. But he was still excited nonetheless. In seconds, Ethan had the room unlocked and opened the door.

Immediately, the entire monitor flashed red as a nuke went off in his character’s face. The last room had been a trap; it was impossible for any player to continue on at that point. Seconds later, the remaining portion of Ethan’s health bar disappeared, replacing itself with the same red that the enemy team wore. Ethan didn’t mind however. In fact, he didn’t even comprehend what had happened. That final hit had sent another shock like the ones he’d felt before, but this time it had paralyzed him completely. It was almost like Ethan had been paused in time.

At least, mentally paused in time. The shock still brought along its physical effects, this time to Ethan’s pouch. His modest 4 inch softie instantly hardened to its full erect glory, but in moments it was throbbing. It pulsed as if someone was blowing up a balloon, each throb pumping it a little larger until it was an enhanced 8.5 inches. Ethan’s balls experienced a similar inflation, descending with weight as they covered themselves in a wiry forest of pubes. Across the perineum, his butthole shrunk and tightened while his glutes became larger and solidified, no longer serving the purpose they once dutifully fulfilled for previous boyfriends and in nightclub restrooms.

With his character dead, Red Wave finished out what it was intended to do. Just like what had been discussed all over media, the game began to uninstall itself from Ethan’s console and delete any history of its existence. However, unlike what had been discussed all over media (except ironically by Fox News, who for once spoke the truth), Red Wave began to uninstall and delete any history of Ethan’s existence. The game’s true purpose was to enact the long predicted Republican return: transforming every player by the end of the game into a fully-devoted, heterosexual, God-and-gay-fearing conservative. Players were expected to die about midway through the game, but the final room was placed as a fail-safe to ensnare every last participant.

So, as Red Wave destroyed itself and any evidence of its presence, it also deteriorated Ethan’s existence. His personality was dragged down into his churning balls, along with his organized nature, preppy values, and crafty intelligence. His kind, bright attitude was ripped away, leaving room for a more cocky, aggressive being. His views and morals were simplified and tied back to tradition, no longer swayed by the repulsive, modern “progress” of today. Ethan’s homosexuality too was torn away, each piece of his gay identity plucked in order to reveal a shallower, more malevolent shell. Ethan felt each shift go through him like a shock. One moment, he was bisexual, the next a straight ally. But eventually he embraced his final form–a homophobic breeder.

The entire uninstalling process itself seemed like it had taken hours, but it was truly only a few minutes. As Red Wave approached its final seconds on Ethan’s console, his dick began to tremble like a great volcano. Inside his boxers, his two drooping testicles were churning the remains of Ethan, deleting his entirety as it was being prepared for its own uninstallation. Still under the magnetic pause of the game, Ethan’s dull eyes watched as Red Wave’s uninstallation completed, sending forth one final shock. The spark raced across Ethan’s system and instantly triggered his hefty cock to eject the massive load, removing any remnants of his former life and blasting them all across his already-stained boxer shorts.

“Huh wha…” Eric awoke from his sudden stupor. “Ahhh dude...!”

The vocal fry was apparent as Eric took one of his hands off the controller and investigated his sweats, which now had a wet, growing splotch emerging from his pouch. He hated wasting a load when it totally could’ve gone in some chick. In Eric’s eyes, nutting alone was basically a crime against his babymaker.

Although his crotch was sticky and would later become stained, Eric didn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t some faggy liberal after all–he was a real man who did real manly things. If he had a massive dick and was constantly pumping stomachs, then he had a right to show that off. He wasn’t gonna let some blue-lovin’, cock-suckin’, atheist freak take away his rights! 

And Eric knew he would always win in the battle of red versus blue. Faggots were always lining up to do anything for their superiors. They’d pay him tons of cash for a used sock. Clean the apartment thoroughly before some bimbo came over to be filled that night just to get the privilege of massaging his massive feet for a half an hour. Plus, Eric had now realized that if he led them on enough, they’d go to the polls and vote red, even if the candidate was campaigning to remove gay rights. Despite having just blown a load seconds earlier, his girthy dick was responding to the thought of knowing how many fags were waiting to serve him.

“Gotta find some slut to dump this all into,” Eric huffed as he adjusted his package. The thought of bouncing tits and wet pussy only riled him further, but with the console already booted up he decided to play a few rounds of some shooter game first. Before he did however, he noticed his juicy feet propped up in front of his monitor, uncared for and needing attention. With his sticky hand, he snatched his phone and texted one of his go-to fairies. Instantly, the boy replied back and said he was on his way to service him. Content, Eric tossed the phone onto his unmade bed and opened up a game while he waited for the fag. The Red Wave was coming, whether the libs wanted to admit it or not. 

Protocol 69

---

Originally posted on 2023-06-24 by dumb-and-jocked. (Thanks again for dumb-and-jocked for all your stories!)

This story was nuked quite quickly last time, I recall. So, please reblog in effort to keep multiple copies alive.

Last thing: I am sorry this post does not have any italics/bold! I had some issues properly saving it back then. If anyone cares I'll try recover the formatting.

---

“I’m sorry Officer, but did I do something wrong?”

After a 10 hour drive with tumultuous traffic, I’d expected to get some rest in the hotel room my company had paid for when they’d sent me to Texas for a business conference. I wasn’t too far out of the Dallas-Fort Worth area, but apparently far enough for some forms of homophobia to proudly exist. When I had pulled in, I immediately noticed the front desk glare at the pride sticker on my back window. When they’d picked up the phone right after, I’d assumed the two events were unrelated. But the cop standing calmly in front of his vehicle parked beside mine told me differently.

“Nothin’ we can’t fix,” the officer replied ominously in that classic drawl.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I started politely. “But I’m very exhausted, and I’ve got some important meetings to attend first thing tomorrow. If you don’t have anything to arrest me for, then I’m going to respectfully leave.”

“Yer kind ain’t welcome in these parts.” The officer’s response was calculated. “Just cause I can’t arrest ya doesn’t mean I can’t still bring ya in.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, becoming a little agitated.

“They’re called ‘correctional facilities’ for a reason,” he added.

“So you’re gonna jail me for being gay?”

“For threatening this town’s good traditional values and lifestyle?” the officer manipulated. “Then yes, yes I sure will.”

The officer then approached me with a pair of handcuffs. I wanted to fight back, and it took everything in me not too, but I was familiar with how these things could go down. He stood fairly tall and was well-built; a classic All-American family man. I was a college runner who clocked in a few inches under 6 feet, so running could have been an option if I wanted to engage. But I’d wait it out, play the little game until my future lawsuit kicked this homophobe and his whole department to hell.

But something in the back of my mind was still flicking the panic button. All of this seemed too easy for the officer, too habitual. As if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he’d done this many times before. As if this wasn’t the first time this had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

— —

The last thing I could remember was sitting down in the back of that officer’s vehicle with my hands behind my back. He opened the door for me and I followed instructions, but I couldn’t place what happened after he’d started the car. In fact, I had no idea of how I had gotten into my current situation. The old interrogation room was empty, besides the entire back wall that was lit by a projector. My clothes were gone, leaving me completely naked. And my penis was placed in some kind of tube. I tried to yank it out, but the device was not going to give it up.

“Hello!” I shouted angrily. “You can’t do this!”

There was no reply, but the projector screen did light up. Letters began to appear along the bricks, spelling out what I prayed to anyone above was not actually possible: “Protocol 69: Conversion Operationalization Activated.”

“Hey!” Desperation was beginning to show in my voice. “No, please don’t! I don’t know what is happening but don’t do this! I’ll do whatever it is you want, please!”

My cries for help were meaningless however. No one appeared to hear me or respond. Instead, the words flashed before disappearing. Something new began to boot up on the screen, an introduction video of sorts.

“Welcome to Benbrook,” a cheery male voice began as an old cartoon began to play. It looked like some educational video from the Reagan Era. “This growing Texan city welcomes you to all the finer things in the American life.”

Suddenly, the tube my dick was currently stuck in began to move. As if awakening from a great slumber, a portion of the device groggily creaked before swiveling itself around my cock. All 5 inches were rapidly on display as the tube proceeded to jack me off, twisting and pulling and turning and releasing as it gave me the most sensual action of my life. I was no virgin, but I had never felt anything like this before.

“However, if you are currently watching this video, that means you’ve come to tarnish and harm the great opportunities Benbrook can provide you with.” The cartoon placed a word across the screen that flashed as if it was a warning alarm. The “H” in “Homosexual” appeared particularly loud. “We hope you understand that the upcoming process you’re about to undergo is meant to not only protect our safety and way of life, but to enhance your own as well.”

I was trying so hard to find a way to escape, but the dazzling colors of the projector and the edging experience down below were hindering my focus. Instead of fighting back, I simply moaned as my dick underwent its electronically-sensual torture and watched as a dingy spiral came into view. My eyes centered in on the old-timey display that swirled around in circles. I couldn’t tell if the fluttering of my eyelids were due to the sexual action below or what my eyes were now hypnotized by above.

While the spiral and the tube instrument performed their jobs, I began to feel something squirting out of my cock. It wasn’t semen, precum, or even piss for that matter. Although I wasn’t able to completely look down, I could see a glittery, luminescent stream now flowing through the tube. Something was being drained out of me, but I was too distracted by the spiral and too turned on by the mechanical sucking to care. It just felt so good to give in to the spiral and not worry about anything else but being pleased. The machines were doing me a favor really. I didn’t have to think; all I had to do was watch while I was given pleasure.

The glittery flow continued out of my body, causing my breathing to hurry a bit as the progression towards ecstasy continued. Grabbing the tube to steady myself, I didn’t notice my grip expand and solidify harder across the machine. My digits expanded, my feet following suit as they too bloated across the cold metal floor. After a while, my meaty fingers were able to surround the entirety of the tube. My feet–although I didn’t bother looking at them–were now able to grasp me firmly to the ground; their Size 14 nature containing the strength meant to hold the weight of a real man.

With the spiral and pump still working their magic, I couldn’t be bothered with watching how my legs and arms were changed next. As the homosexual energy was removed from my body, my ligaments were allowed to expand. Biceps and triceps that had never existed before blew up like balloons. Calves inflated in certain areas while shrinking in others, creating legs meant less for long distance running and more for shorter sprints. The quads swelled too, now able to do so being that they were no longer needed for any track. They were now created for sports played by alphas: football, basketball, and baseball. None of that cross country or tennis pansy crap.

After the shoulders had finished broadening with an incredible lengthening to my deltoids, the glitter was able to leave my torso next. My pits filled in with curly bushes of tangled hair, matted with sweat and stinking to the high Heaven. And even with the plump pecs and removal of body fat that was happening to my expanding frame, the forests would never be able to be completely hidden. By suctioning out the energy, my abs were showcased in a more elite form. Each abdominal was now hard across my stomach, all eight leading down to a perfect treasure trail that had never been able to grow before now. My height had been extended too, now putting me well over the 6 feet I’d never reached before.

The stream was flowing steadily now, extracting my homosexuality from what I assumed had to be the most concentrated areas: my head and my cock. Being that they were the only two parts of my real self left unscathed, this next part of the process would probably be gruesome. My buttocks were first to change, clenching hard as their luxurious fat was eliminated to create muscled pillows similar to my pecs. My hole closed in on itself almost immediately after, its purpose now reduced to duties only regarding objects exiting the body. My balls ripened and plumped into a generous sack, and my hard dick sputtered an extra few inches forward. The tube was still able to manage the added girth however, all 8 inches fitting into an even tighter squeeze than before.

With a grunt and dazed gaze at the projector screen, I watched lazily as words began to flutter across the screen. Although I was in no state of mind to focus–and I certainly should have been doing it towards literally anything else–I used all of my remaining willpower to try and decipher the letters that flashed upon the screen. While doing so, the tube continued to suck out the remaining substance of my homosexuality. My chin widened into a shape so square and masculine it was almost comical. My brow popped out to create a more Neanderthal-look, pursing my eyebrows and lips basically permanently. My hair was shaped into something more typical and douche-like. I couldn’t see it, but I knew I had been created into a breeding machine.

“Boobs” was the first word I was able to decipher from the projector. I grunted and began feeding my monster cock to the tube as if I was in charge. “Pussy” came next, followed by “Clit” and “Cunt”. The tube began to let up around my dick, but I didn’t care anymore. I was so hard, so horny, and for some reason it was for the words that flashed across the brick wall. With the help of “Vagina” and the simple “Woman”, I asserted my dominance and proceeded to thrust into the machine myself, my throbbing penis shooting in and out.

The tube had stopped moving, but it didn’t matter to me anymore. I had only one thing on my mind. “Impregnate” the screen suddenly read, adding to the list of words already revolving around the screen. “Propagate” wasn’t too far behind, and neither was “Seed.” Suddenly, my horny fantasies didn’t just revolve around women. I realized I wanted to fill them, get my babies to coat their entire inner bodies. I wanted to…I wanted to… “Breed.” Yes, I wanted to breed. I wanted to multiply, make an entire generation of me. Identical to me. Same looks, same goals, same ideologies.

And before I knew it, even more words had been tossed into the mix. “Homophobia” arrived with a sting, a certain loathsome tingle erupting out around my body. “Alpha” was preceded by “Dominant,” and “Superior” was proceeded by “Traditionality.” All of these words sunk into my brain, accepting the new mindset as my ideals connected with my sexuality.

The programming gradually flickered faster, each new pulse sending a tiny bit more pressure to my dick. My thrusting grew more aggressive in response. I grabbed onto the tube with a renewed sense of strength and felt my gaze leave the projector’s trance for the first time. Allowing my eyes to roll back into my head, I released a dumb groan as the glittery stream dried up.

With one final thrust, a massive shot of my own cum was sent down the tube. The projector had finally stopped, displaying only “Thanks for watching!” in cutesy, bouncing letters before shutting off. The room went dark after that, but I blacked out before I even realized it.

— —

“Oh yeah,” I groaned as she sat on my lap, my massive schlong shoved up her tight pussy. “Ain’t that just right.”

Without saying a word, I got to work and felt my cock immediately getting ready to fire. When it came down to business, I could get my babymaker spewing fast. And being that I still had at least two other girls in town that needed to get rid of their flat stomachs before I went to work in an hour, I had to fertilize these chicks FAST!

“That’s right babygirl,” I was able to say between grunts. However, my cock immediately deflated when I noticed a sedan pull up across the street. The sedan itself was a crime–only trucks should be driven in Texas after all–but the “LGBTQIA+” sticker on the back nauseated me beyond belief. Visible disgust came over my face quickly, causing as my current conquest to ask me what was wrong. I grabbed my phone and explained I had to make a quick call to her dad. It wouldn’t take more than a minute I promised.

“Benbrook Police Department,” a sturdy, masculine voice answered.

“Yo brochacho, I’d like to report in a Protocol 69.”

“Hmm,” the other side mumbled disapprovingly. “Location of the illegitimate?”

“’The Real Man’s Tools’.” I followed my answer with a dumb chuckle. I always forgot how clever the hardware store’s motto was: “…besides a woman that is!”

“Car make and model?”

“You’ll know it, bro.”

“Not American-made?”

The babe still riding my cock shoved a finger in my mouth, signaling she wanted to continue.

“Are they…evuh?” The words were barely able to escape my mouth. The officer laughed in response on the other end as she began sliding up and down my dick slowly, getting us back to where we had left off.

“Thanks for the report,” the officer replied. “Please continue yer civil duties.”

“Will do, dude.”

The line hung up on itself, which was probably for the best with my hands already being wrapped back around my current score. I felt my load tense up as it began to prepare itself for semination. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see an officer’s cruiser pull up alongside the homo’s vehicle. Looks like we were both about to bring a straight, Texan, alpha male into the world.

Branded

---

Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

---

Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

Sports Night - Into the Ring

Joseph was panicking. He had just emerged from a long shower, checked the front door and saw that his package still wasn’t there. His colleague Ian’s party was due to start in an hour and he was still waiting for his costume to arrive. Joseph was genuinely looking forward to the party; he was new to the company and thought this would be a good chance to make some new friends.

He wasn’t just new to the company, he was new to the UK. He had bounced around chemical companies after leaving college in the States about eight years ago, but had never really managed to feel settled. He thought working alongside other engineers would be easy, but whether it was his nerdy demeanour or his pudgy appearance he never ever felt like he fit in. For a while Joseph told myself it was because he operated on a different intellectual level to his old co-workers and while that may have been true, he also never really made an effort.

So he moved. All the way across the Atlantic to the UK and he was determined to make a difference, starting with Ian’s party. He wasn’t sure how seriously to take the costume element and really didn’t feel like spending lots of money on new clothes, so he had come up with a compromise - he had ordered some boxing gloves off the internet and figured he could pair it with his dressing gown and pretend it was his boxing robe. He could even wear his usual ratty t-shirt and extra comfy jeans. The only problem was the delivery was late and he was worried he was going to resemble an overweight Arthur Dent more than a boxer.

As if to answer his concerns, the doorbell rang. He ran (well, shambled) to the front door. He didn’t catch a sign of the delivery guy or gal, but shrugged and picked up the box. Oddly there were no labels - not even a delivery sticker with his address - but he shrugged and brought it into his hallway.

His excitement turned to dismay when he opened the box. He could specifically recall ordering boxing gloves, but the box contained some sort of strip of cloth all rolled up. Not only that, but the fabric quite clearly stunk, but he wondered if that was just the natural smell of the material. A quick Google search told him that these were hand wraps used for sparring. He grumbled; this was going to be a bit more work than just pulling on some gloves. He grabbed his glasses, loaded up a YouTube instruction video and got to work.  

He watched the video once and seemed to get the idea. He unravelled one of the rolls, throwing more of that stench into the air. He stretched out one of his thick, fat-leaden arms and got ready to go, hooking the end of the strap around his thumb and slowly starting to wrap the material around his hand.

The feeling after the first wrap around was almost instantaneous. An almost electrical surge travelling up his arm and travelled all across his body. He shivered with anticipation.

“What the hell was that…”, Joseph muttered, his quiet American accent echoing around his small apartment. He looked back at his stretched out hand with eager anticipation and wrapped around again.

The surge happened again, but this time it was not alone. A deep rumble echoed across his sizeable belly and he felt a strange… tightening.

He wrapped around again.

His belly caved in on itself, the fat seemingly disappearing into the ether. Joseph choked and was so focussed on the fact he could see his toes for the first time in years that he didn’t even notice that he was automatically wrapping around another time.

This time there was a creaking sound as Joseph noticed the floor and furnishing travel away from him. He now minimal stomach stretched out even further to the point where Joseph thought he was almost too skinny! Joseph knew he needed to stop; he rational mind kept telling him that no item - even mystery items from the internet - could make his fat disappear and make him grow by four or five inches. He needed to stop and think of a way to analyse this material.

He wrapped around again.

The sensation was wildly different this time, a burning and vigorous massage across his body and particular his chest, arms and stomach. Joseph moaned, closing his eyes as the burning intensified and got more pleasurable. It petered off and Joseph gazed down. He was disappointed for a split second when his toes were obscured again and then reality hit. It was his chest. His thick, beefy chest, with two plates jutting out. Peering down even more he could see rows of tight abs across a stocky but fit mid-section. And his arms - one still outstretched and the other still gripping the wrap for dear life - were loaded down with thick, veiny muscle. Joseph was speechless; he had the kind of body he had always envied, had always dreamed about. He was at a complete loss as to what to do.

So he wrapped around again.

A wild itch spread across his body and particular his chest as thick brown hairs leapt out of his skin.

He wrapped around again. 

There was a tight pulling sensation on his scalp as his lank blond hair fell out of his eyesight.

He wrapped around again, addicted to the pleasure it was bringing.

His glasses feel to the floor as he felt his facial feature reshuffle.

Breathing heavily, feeling his hefty chest inflate and deflate rapidly, he went to wrap around one last time, but he was done. His left hand - far beefier than he remembered and now connected to a veiny, thick forearm - had a tightly wound hand wrap in place. He ran (and actually ran this time) to the bathroom and admired himself in the mirror. He could finally admire his wide, heavy-set shoulders and thick torso; his rug of sexy chest hair which gave off a musky scent not dissimilar to that from the hand wraps; his short, brown hair, buzzed at the back and sides; and his beautiful, rugged beard adorned with effortless stubble.

“Fuck me”, Joseph uttered and was shocked by the smooth but deep baritone that oozed out. “What now”?

He looked down again. His right hand was bare. He was only half way done. 

Joseph paused. He couldn’t imagine what other changes were going to happen and he genuinely didn’t really want his body to change any more. But a deep longing forced him to pick up the second wrap. He claimed it was due to scientific interest - the second half of this little experiment - but deep down he knew it was something more. For the first time in a long time we felt a raw desire and the for time ever, he planned to act on it.

He hooked the hand wrap onto his thick, hairy thumb and got to work.

His arms pulsated as they beefed up even further, while the pulling sensation across his scalp returned. He was pretty happy with his hair the way it had turned out before, but figured maybe a buzzcut would look pretty neat.

He wrapped around again.

He expected more burning, more massaging, more stretching but nothing came. Instead a new sensation - a slow, soothing draining sensation in his head. Joseph stumbled a bit in the bathroom, suddenly feeling almost blinded by the sharp light above the mirror. He felt dazed and confused, almost drunk, as his thoughts slowed and he tried to steady his unfamiliar, bulky body. One thought however did manage to creep itself through the clutter - he needed to stop; something wasn’t right.

He wrapped around again.

The dazed confusion was still there but it felt less sharp, less invasive, more… permanent. Joseph gazed down at the hand wrap in a wonder and tried to think about sort of material it could be made out of. But all his scientific knowledge escaped him, as he wrapped around again.

A part of Joseph panicked - why didn’t his years of scientific studying and working help him here? But those years got flushed away - he couldn’t even remembered what the hell he did now. An emptiness waved over Joseph as every element of his life began to drift away. His looked up and stared at himself in the mirror. His hair had been buzzed short and was receding at the temples. His body was thicker and meaner. And while he was still rugged, his face was now… meaner. But he couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. He had a brief memory of his old eyes - they were bright, lively and he had told betrayed his vast intelligence. The eyes looking back at him in the mirror now were dark and  vacant.

He wrapped around again.

His head was awash with new memories. A new history. Of course he didn’t fucking go to college or know any science stuff - he could remember dropping out of school at 15. He was too busy getting into scraps to learn and the teachers wanted noting to do with him.

He wrapped around again.

He had always been pretty dim, but his fists were his outlet. And after leaving school, he had more time to train. Started taking it seriously, putting the work and the hours in. Starting fighting in underground and backroom bouts all across the East End of London.

He paused, London?

He wrapped around again.

Born and raised in the East End he was. Was pretty well known about these parts and people generally knew to steer clear of him if they could help it. His was far from the sharpest tool in the shed and everybody knew that he should be taking home more money from the matches, but he didn’t fight for the money. He fought as an outlet for his aggression. He fought because it gave him the chance to prove his worth. He fought because he was fuckin’ good at it.

The wraps were done. 

“Freddie, get your arse out here” a rough voice called from outside. With that, the last remnant of Joseph fluttered away, and Freddie - the aggressive English bruiser - took over. Freddie didn’t even notice that his hands were now adorned with professional gloves and he was wearing tight shorts, showing off his intimidating package. 

“Out in a sec” Freddie grumbled, no hint of his American twang remaining. Instead a guttural, deep and vaguely Cockney accent emerged.

He stared at himself one last time in the bathroom. He hadn’t even noticed that the walls were damp and dingy, with a single flickering blub over the cracked mirror flickering. His eyes betrayed no depth, no intelligence but that’s not what his opponents noticed. They noticed the determination and the anger. They noticed… but only if they got the fucking chance.

Second story - hope everyone enjoys. Appreciate it is pretty lengthy; next time am going to work on being a bit more concise!

Any feedback would be welcomed! Have got a few more ideas in the Sports Night pipeline, but if you have any suggestions, ideas or requests do let me know!

Gym Selfies

“We recommend installing the application. Confirm?”

Johnny looked at the screen of his smartphone. “What kind of app?”

The screen said, “Gym Selfies”

“Another app for these stupid jocks,” Johnny thought. He pressed the cancel button.

“Cancellation is not permitted. We recommend installing the application. Confirm?”- the sign has come up.

“WTF?!”- thought johnny - “ Maybe I can remove it after install?”

He confirmed the installation. “Load. 30%… 65%…87%…98%…100%… Download complete”

“Our app will teach you how to make the best selfies of your pumped body! With our app you will emphasize all your advantages!”

Johnny already wanted to delete this application,but then he suddenly wanted to take a selfie. He could not overcome his new desire. he pressed OK.“

"Take off your shirt and lie down on the sofa” - said the application. “Extend your left hand with your smartphone. Make a fist and raise your right hand to your head. Strain your muscles” Johnny knew that it was very silly, but he took off his shirt, lay down on the sofa and took the pose. On the screen appeared his skinny body and his bony hands. Johnny saw his face covered in teen acne and the dirty black hair that lay in his shapeless hair.

“Open your mouth a little, look into the camera and take a photo.”- ordered the application. Johnny heard the camera click. He decided to check the photo. But he was very shocked. It wasn’t him in the photo.

The photo was a beautiful Jock with bright blue eyes, well-groomed hair, a beautiful face and, of course, big muscles. He looked very hot. 

“Error. The photo does not correspond to reality. Reality needs to be replaced. Wait, the operation is in progress…”

Johnny felt a wild headache. He dropped the phone on the floor and bent in half, holding his head. His body started to grow rapidly, reaching a height of 6.2 feet. His spine was stretching out and johnny could hear his bones crunching. His muscles began to grow rapidly. The biceps swelled, the pec began to protrude much forward, and his abs appeared. Johnny could see his skin starting to take a darker shade, as if he was sunbathing on the beach every day and his hair was forming into a fashionable hairstyle. His face became more masculine, his cheekbones became sharpened, his eyes brightened and a bright stubble formed on his chin. The last shift johnny had felt in his pants. His cock began to stretch from his modest 4 inches to huge 9 inches, and the balls were at least 2 times the size! 

The headache went as quickly as it started. Johnny straightened up and ran to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw an exact copy of that dude in the photo. Only now this dude reflected in the mirror with a look of shock on his face. “Holy shit!” Johnny cried out. 

"Oh, my fucking voice is lower!” He looked in his pants. 

“Fuck! My dick bigger!” Johnny began rubbing it intensely. The more he jerked off, the slower his thoughts were. His mind gradually erased. Johnny, although now he prefers to call himself John, cum right on his mirror.

Now he wanted more selfies. He should go to the gym and take more selfies. He wants it very much.

This is my first story, so I will be glad if you like it.

Civilian Casualties

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2020-02-21 ---

It was my first day as a solider if the United States Marine Corps. The corps was drafting preds, for different reasons like, interrogation, war, and secret projects that are Classified. You would be surprised what a guy will give up when he half way down ur cock, ass, or throat. Anyway, I was hand selected by the corps because I was a pred and a damn fine one at that I had the unique ability to vore a guy no matter the size and remain unchanged, by appearance. There would be no sign of anyone either in my balls gut or up my ass. This was a secret project and only top officials and the preds new of the project. I am young though and sometimes I endulge myself. We were only allow to vore certian guys but not me, I thought that they would never know I took a few of our own guys or too some civilians. It's wrong I know, but I can't help it and plus I love it. We were on base and the base did tours cuz there was a museum on base. Me and my group had just finished taking pictures and we all went to the museum to have fun and see all the cool stuff there. We walked in the museum and we had fun looking at everything, we had permission to get up and close to the stuff and even touch some of the stuff. As we got more and more into the museum, we can into the hanger that was built on the side of the museum that held all the big badass stuff like planes and helicopters, anti aircraft guns and tanks. There was their big anti aircraft gun that we saw and one of my bubbies told me to go up there and sit in the seat. I said alright sure and jumped up and sat in it. I put my hands on the lever and felt the power.

The engineering that went into the design of this massive gun that was for taking down planes and piercing armor. My bubbly took my picture and I looked through the sight and played with it, moving it around until I pass over this guy. I turned the lever back toward him and stoped it there. I looked at him and he was watching us, I could tell he was I tered in me cuz he waved and blushed when I waved back. I got off the gun and told my friend I had to go to the bathroom and went up stairs to where he was. I stopped In front of him and stuck out my hand and said "Hi my name is Trevor, what's urs" he shook my hand and said "I'm Corey it's a pleasure to meet you" his voice cracked and I could tell he had a crush on me. He was a in town on business he told me and and I asked what business. He said "you might find this weirdo but I have abilities, I can transform people into inanimate objects." Shocked and intrigued I said," that's awesome man, but that's not weird. I'm a pred, I can swallow people with out leaving a trace of them in me." His face lit up like a red balloon. He said that's awesome, and that he's never met a actual pred before but he's heard about them. He then asked me," you know I have always been curious about ur type, how does it work Trevor? How can u swallow and entire man." I could tell he wanted in me although he was on a "business trip". I told him I'll show you and told him to follow me in the bathroom. We both got in and I looked to see if anyone was in there and didn't see anyone. I closed the door and locked it behind us. I told him" you want to see don't you? You want to see my mouth and the back of my throat, I can see in in ur eyes." Corey look me in the eyes and said " YES, OK I want you to vore me, I've been following u all day. Waiting for you to notice me." I smirked and said "wish granted" I walked up to Corey and pushed him to his knees and fished out my cock, it was already hard from my prey submitting to me. Something about willing prey really gets me going. He grabbed my cock and took over and began sucking on my cock. He was really good at this and he knew he was. He looked up at me with those cute eyes as I forced his head to take all of my cock. He gaged but only once, as he was sucking me off, I thought I heard the door but new it was locked. I freaked when a big hot muscled security guard unlocked it and said " What THE FUCK are you two doing." I freaked as he came towards us Corey simply snapped his fingers and the security guard was gone and all that remained was a pair of blue and grey underwear.

So he was telling the truth I thought this sent me over and I shot my load up and into his mouth. He got up off his knees and kissed me forcing all my cum into my mouth and then we kissed for awhile until I forced it back into his and swallowed it. It was turn so I asked him if he was sure about this and he just shook his head yes. I opened my mouth and he was mesmerized by my mouth and the back of my throat. I looked at him and winked as my mouth surrounded his face and my jaw stretched over his face and over his head. His whole head was in my throat and he loved it. I could see his bulge in his underwear explod as he bested more and more of mouth. His underwear was stained with cum as his head beater my throat. I can only imagine the thought of it all, his head must have been soaking wet from my warm saliva. My muscles throat must feel so good as he slides deeper and deeper into me. My mouth stretched over his shoulders and the rest of him was easy. I put his arms to his side and grabbed him and pulled him more and more into my body. At this point t he was up to his belly bottom so I lifters him up and let gravity due it's thing. He slowly slide down my throat I could feel every movement every muscle he had. His bulge and ass went in and I could taste his salty cum as I like it all around. He entered my stomach and started to curl up in a ball when I grabbed his feet and pushed them the rest of the way. One last swallow and he was gone. He slide down and curled into a ball in my stomach and thanked me for it. He said it was the best experience of his life, but then asked me when he was gonna. Be let out. I laughed and said" it's a one way trip Corey, u really didn't think u were going to experience it and be let out did u ahha" he freaked and thrashed about in my stomach yelling," YOU BASTARD I TRUSTED YOU, I DONT WANT DIE IN UR GUT... WHAT ABOUT MY MEETIBG TOMORROW WITHA CLIENT" I laughed at the realization that he was never going to be let out. I looked in the mirror and there was no bulge no sign of Corey anywhere. I was about to walk out when I say the underwear that was once a security guard. I striped and slide him on, they were comfortable and was contented cuz I wasn't wearing underwear. I needed to do laundry lol, I rubbed my junk all in the pouch which I assumed was his face. The underwear responded by tightening around my ass and cock like he liked it. I laughed and met up with my friends, we were all going to the beach so I got changed and we went out. Poor poor Corey, I rubbed as I went out on the beach. I hope I don't have a cramp while I'm in the water. I did just eat I thought I my self. But shrugged it off as I farted toward the water and jumped in. This was the last pic I took of me before Corey completely went away. Can't even seen him haha.

TS - #008 Cordypecs

A virus is not just DNA; a virus is also packaged up, covered over with a series of proteins in a nice, elegant, well-compacted form. 

- Francis Collins

An archaeologist begins to explore the ruins of an ancient Scottish castle that dates one of the many battles in the ‘War of the Craft’. His hand faltering and flitting over the stonework, he flinches somewhat as he feels something cold and damp, scared that somehow it may be blood or rot. Instead when he shines a light on the sticky white concoction, his eyes widen as a white dampness turns into what feels like white heat searing through his palm and travelling up his body.

Before he knows it, he’s bent down, hand wrapped around his cock as he can already feel the change happening. His bones shift as his back grows sending him to be over 6’ tall. His feet burst out of his boots. His own ass becomes thick as it grows. His once skinny and pale frame now broad and fair as he can feel muscle growing and growing in an endless wave of pleasure. By the time he cums on himself and feels his intelligence draining, he knows it’s too late, as for now he’s nothing more than a temporary victim of Cordypecs.

Morbus incrementum musculus otherwise more commonly known as Cordypecs is a virus that originated in the late 1400’s due to the actions of Sir Thomas. Having been transformed into an orc, Sir Thomas believed the affliction to be permanent and sought out [REDACTED] believing it to be a cure. During a heated discussion with The Craftsman, he was warned that his case was not permanent and that [REDACTED] wouldn’t cure him but only make his permanently become an orc and have disastrous consequences on both him and those around him. However Sir Thomas did not heed The Craftsman’s words and once he [REDACTED] he found himself shifting into an orc for the very last time as he became the first human-orc hybrid, containing the humanity and intelligence of his old self but the body and power of an orc.

He could barely control his body through the lust as he learned that he had a similar effect to the transformation that ensued for his squire, Gared. Only this time instead of making men more masculine (or at least their idea of masculinity). He also robbed them off their intelligence for the however long they lasted in their new forms. Eventually all men who were even transformed once by this method were soon able to find themselves transforming others and thus what was once a blessing was now viral, spreading from men to men across generations to come (no pun intended).

The virus has since been spreading around however it has weakened in the modern day era, now only leading people to last as long as a few hours in their new forms. Not much else is known about the virus other than it is only spread through semen and that it transforms men into their idea of an ideal man. This has changed throughout the ages, whereas men in the medieval period became knights, soon in the 50’s they became sexy businessmen that worked wonders on Wall Street and then greasers that enjoyed diners, leather, and all things motor in the 1960’s America and so on and so forth. 

Nowadays the ideal man to many varies and one can become anything from a male model, to celebrities, to a jocked out gym bro. Only time will tell what many men will soon become, and perhaps even you will soon become your ideal man.

Dillon fumbled with the business card in his fingers and remembered how he got it earlier with fond thoughts. He ran into this stud of a man only mere hours earlier and he surely wanted him and was dropping hints like anvils, but why wouldn't Dillon just pick up the phone then and call him up.

It could have been that marshal was an obvious bro while he himself was the scrawniest twink around. Maybe it was also the fact that he was still a virgin, which seemed to be an embarrassing fact to him that he resented the hell out of. Sometimes he wondered what it was like, but he was afraid. He was afraid that it wouldn't exceed his expectations or that it would just hurt in general. Losing your virginity is suppose to be a defining moment of your life, but would it just end up as an embarrassment that he'd have to suppress in order to function in this world. Marshall surely didn't seem to be one to play games, but the thought of going through with this terrified him. If he didn't he'd feel like a coward, which in some senses was much worse.

''That's it I'm gonna do it.'' he retrieved his phone from his pocket and typed in the number from the card but he couldn't bring himself to press send. It seemed almost impossible for him, as if some force was stopping him from calling.

Dillon let out a breath of air and closed his eyes ''I'm gonna do it. I can't be scared for the rest of my life.''

Without looking, Dillon pressed the button quickly so that he wouldn't have a chance to pussy out. He could here the phone on the other side start to ring, his stomach sank. Part of him hoped Marshall wouldn't pick up, but luck wasn't in his favor.

''Hello, this is Marshall and who's this?"

Dillon felt a lump form in his throat "It's Dillon."

"Dillon who?" Marshall asked.

He became a bit hurt, thinking that Marshall could just forget him so easily and the awkward feeling was felt on the other side by Marshall.

"I was only kidding kid. so what time?''

''What?''

''What time do you wanna meet at Duddy's?''

''Um.. I don't know, when do you wanna... Go?''

''A little nervous are we.'' Dillon could hear Marshall laugh on the other side ''I'm not your first am I?''

''Yes. Is... Is that bad?''

''No not at all, well unless you cum to early." Marshal laughed "No reason, to get all stressed out. What happened to that cocky attitude you were showing off earlier?"

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell he meant by cocky. He'd never been a very confident person his whole life but something about what Marshal was saying was resonating in his head. He straightened his posture and felt a wave of swagger over take him. With it a strange tingling sensation began to permeate throughout his body but before he could say more marshall continued "Just be at room 4 by 8, that'll give you a couple hours to get adjusted. I'll talk to yuh soon."

Before Dillon could get a word in Marshall hung up.

Dillon stood there confused as he heard marshall hang up the phone and felt a strange sensation run through his body that he'd never felt before. He shook his head and let out a breath then walked toward his closet. He didn't understand what marshal meant by giving him a few hours to get adjusted. Adjusted into what exactly? He pushed the idea aside and decided to start getting ready He wanted to make sure he looked good but wasn't sure what to wear. Dillon pulled open the closet door and stared inside for a second before turning around with a smile on his face. He grabbed a blue dress shirt and black slacks off the hanger and set them on top of his bed.

He thought for a moment to put them on but a thought pulsed in his head. Normally this was what he'd wear to meet up with a guy but for some reason he didn't feel like he needed to dress up for him and eye balled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt instead. He put on the shorts and shirt then threw on a pair of sandals. Once he was done changing, that strange feeling in his stomach only spread through the rest of his small frame and made his body tremble. All at once he collapsed to the floor and felt his body starting to shake.

He was confused and scared at first as he watched his body swell and grow, fearing he was having an allergic reaction but quickly realized that he was packing on nothing but muscle. His arms and legs grew thicker while his chest and abs turned chiseled, it wasn't long before his shirt started to tear from the seams and he pulled it off with his new found strength. The more he watched the more he felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins. He could feel his own masculinity getting thrown up to top notch as every aspect of his body started to become more manly by the minute.

His jawline got harder and his nose became broader, his ears grew wider and his eyes were now a tantalizing blue. His hair also grew shaggier as his small frame started to grow until he finally reached his full height at 6'3" tall.

His new body was changing with one thing after another. With every uncontrollable spasm he made became a different change to his physical appearance. His mind was racing with what all this meant but he found it harder to think as hair began to sprout across his body. His arms grew thick and hairy while his legs turned so much better than they did before, growing thicker and longer with each passing second.

Not a single part of his body remained unchanged as his back grew broad and muscular while his chest developed even bigger muscles and his abs bulked out. The hair covered him like fur growing over all of his body and became slick with sweat that wreaked of a manly stench. The smell was getting to him as his thoughts started to grow more sluggish and he could feel himself getting dumber by the second.

He felt another rush of adrenaline flow through his veins as his dick began to swell and the pain in his loins increased. He tried to move but his limbs would not respond to his commands as he laid there on the floor unable to do anything. The smell coming off his muscled jock body was strong and infected his nostrils but the disgusting odor only turned him on more. It was the scent of an alpha male. He felt his cock throbbing in his shorts and realized that it too had grown larger, stretching out his tight boxer briefs.

His cock didn't stop growing as it stretched out his underwear until finally stopping at 12 inches, leaving an impossibly big tent in his briefs. This new body's ability to grow continued as he noticed how his balls were now significantly larger than before, hanging low and heavy between his legs.

As if he hadn't already become enough of an embarrassment to himself, he couldn't control his new body as his hips began to uncontrollably buck into the air as he felt himself about to drop a potent load in his shorts. As if he was trying to save face, he managed to get to his feet and ripped off his shorts with a roar, letting his jock body fall on all fours. He rubbed one of his hands over his exposed body, taking in his new looks with pride.

Dillon looked down at his massive cock and a surge of pleasure ran through him as he remembered who he was. He saw himself as a powerful man, a force to be reckoned with and wanted to show off just how much of an Adonis he truly was. He humped the air and could feel his cock throb as he was about to bust his load all over the floor.

It felt like his whole body was on fire as his cock threatened to shoot thick ropes of cum all over his bedroom floor. He felt his orgasm build up as the pressure grew only more intense. He could feel his balls contracting and the tension building up he fell onto his back. He didn't even have to touch his cock as he thyrough his hands behind himself until finally rope after rope of cum splattered across his chest.

He fell limp to the floor, grunting and moaning in his new alpha state. Each of the thick ropes had felt like it could have been a gallon of sperm as they flew from his cock in a stream of hot white liquid. The strong scent filled the room.

He stumbled up to his feet and looked at the mess he made with a dumb broish grin. A look that he never would have been able to make before. He'd managed to get his load all over his chest and he started rubbing it into his chest hair. Not caring that he probably should take a shower.

He was a real man now and knew what he wanted, no needed. He wanted to get back at Marshall and let him know just what he planned on doing to his ass tonight. Force him to take in his new mighty and muscular body. He quickly slipped on a pair of briefs before finding his phone.

Dillon pulled out his phone to call Marshall and when he finally picked up he said in a dumb broish tone "You ready for me dude? I'm going to get my huge cock all up in your tight little ass."

He let out a dumb chuckle and he could tell Marshall was pleased with what he heard.

"I really like the attitude adjustment." Marshall said with an obvious smirk. "you remember where you're meeting me at?"

"Yeah Duddy's motel at 8."

Marshall laughed "I'll see you there soon then, don't be enjoying that big dick to much before I can get to it."

Dillon let out another brainless chuckle and replied with a dumb joke that only a halfwit like himself would find funny. "Well I better hurry before you have to use your hand for jerking off while thinking about me."

Marshall forced out another laugh and then hung up the phone. He didn't need Dillon to exactly be the brightest crayon in the box to have a good one night stand so the crude jokes were fine in his book.

Dillon smirked as he threw his phone on his bed. He clapped his hands proudly to himself and began shooting and hollering like a true bro who had just conquered yet another conquest. He began wondering how long it would take him to get to where his buddy was staying. He then wondered if maybe he had enough time to maybe jack another load before meeting up with him. An alpha like him did have an endless supply of cum filling his ballsack after all.

He picked his phone back up and found the last picture he took of his old pathetic and wimpy body. The body he had only a few mere moments ago. He used to be such a dweeb and now that he was this huge brute of a man it only filled him with more confidence knowing how far he'd come. He was the epitome of masculinity now whose mere presence demanded for other men to submit to him. He'd never been so vain before let alone so crude or arrogant about himself, but with this new body of his, how couldn't he be.

He started rubbing his massive bulge through his briefs as he imagined Marshall's eyes popping out of his head when he saw his new body and even bigger dick. Then again, Marshall had to of known how he turned him from a small twink into this hunk of a man right?

He continued rubbing his cock while looking at his own bare chest and stomach. He rubbed his pecs still feeling his load tangled in his chest hairs. He started to think about his old life. How he always wore his shirt tucked in which only showed off his small and boney frame. Now he just had to show off his six pack abs and toned pecs and that was something he never thought he'd ever have.

He started pumping his cock faster thinking about this and felt himself getting close to shooting another load. He knew he was going to enjoy his new outlook on life and how couldn't he. Sure he may have been as dumb as a box of bricks now but he had the body to make up for it. He was happy with his new outlook on life and who wouldn't be after making such drastic change.

Marshal only changed him for so that he could have a good fuck tonight but that didn't matter to Dillon. With a body like this he'd never have to worry about sex again. It was that thought that pushed him over the edge and shortly after he retrieved some clothes so he could leave and give Marshall the best lay of his life.

Table of contents

Hi I'm a long time lurker on the platform and have been reading TF stories for quite a while.

Ever since Tumblr started cracking down and seeing my favorite blogs disappearing left and right I've started archiving some of my favorite posts.

I'll be reposting some stories from my archive. There's some stories that I can not find the original post nor author for so please help me with finding them!

Stories (author unknown):

A day at the beach

Aronik

Body to brag

Civilian Casualties

Taller and Stronger

Stories (author deactivated)

3TH93USA [dumb-and-jocked]

Admirable Confidence [makingrealalphas]

A Gamer's Paradise [paradisetf]

Alpha Orders [dumb-and-jocked]

Ape boy [realhankmccoy]

Aware Wolf [realhankmccoy]

Ball Practice [time-to-transform]

Be of Service [dumb-and-jocked]

Becoming Bryce [newyoutf]

Bitten by the Country Bug [makingrealalphas]

Booty Text [dumb-and-jocked]

Branded [dumb-and-jocked]

Bro-Job [dumb-and-jocked]

Bro Switch [grandwagonranchmaker]

Chronivac Coworkers [davidrodge]

Cop Out [newyoutf]

Drawn [breedertfs]

Everything has a price [makingrealalphas]

For a better life [makingrealalphas]

Gearing Up! [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Gnarly Tides [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Good Game [dumb-and-jocked]

Gym Goggles [ZacharyEverlust@DA]

Here's to 28! [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter One [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Two [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three [dumb-and-jocked]

Hotel Korea: Chapter Four [dumb-and-jocked]

Identity Death [dumb-and-jocked]

I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro [realhankmccoy]

Josh [dumbbro]

Kenny's Uniform [makingrealalphas]

Level Up! [themuscleparadise]

Listen Up: All-American [newyoutf]

Listen Up: Swimmer [newyoutf]

Modulated [realhankmccoy]

Protocol 69 [dumb-and-jocked]

Purgatory [realhankmccoy]

Red Wave [dumb-and-jocked]

Set Free [breedertfs]

Swapsidite stone [dumb-and-jocked]

Swimming Confidence [ZacharyEverlust]

The Bald Bug [dumb-and-jocked]

The Driver: Richard [dumbmusclejockboi]

The New Frat Part 1 [newyoutf]

The New Frat Part 2 [newyoutf]

The Pence Protocol [realhankmccoy]

The Trump Trail [realhankmccoy]

The Interviews [dumb-and-jocked]

Totally Normal [dumb-and-jocked]

White Hat [grandwagonranchmaker]

Unseen Self [brounderconstruction]

Untitled 1 [realhankmccoy]

Untitled 2 [realhankmccoy]

Story index:

TheBurdenBorne

Breedertfs/Hogtfs/Shapedbydesire

If you are the writer of any of these stories and you want them deleted please let me know.

Reposted with explicit permission:

Barbarian Dungeon [cinaedefuri]

Removed on request of author:

Ancestral roots [@king-craftsman]

Briefs make a jock [@king-craftsman]

Cody Christian [@king-craftsman]

New Cologne [@king-craftsman]

Officer Davies [@king-craftsman]

Strange Oil [@king-craftsman]

Nanites [@cinaedefuri2]

Original creations:

The Rings: Jake [me]

Fighters Paradise [me]

Geared Up [me]

Do you have what it takes? [me]

Massive & Mindless [me]

Barbarian Dungeon

Written by cinaedefuri as commission piece for yuan99.

Originally posted on 06-02-2022

Have received permission from author to repost.

---

Chapter 1

No one who had ever ventured into the dungeon came back out. But the High Paladin Roland thought that he could best the dungeon and find out what was at the end of it. The dungeon had been around for generations, and legend had it that it was a breeding ground for barbarians. Occasionally, muffled moans could be heard coming from it, but the people in the villages close to the dungeon had scant other information to go off of.

Roland employed two more men in his party, technically three. However, Damian was just their supply boy. He had a sword to fight with and knew how to swing it, but other than that, he didn't add much to the party except carrying their gear. The other two members were Grand Wizard Yuan and Archpriest Lux. Although the three men had similar skill sets, Roland thought they were different enough to easily traverse the dungeon.

The four of them soon arrived at the dungeon and entered. Roland naturally went in first. He was 53 years old, but didn't look like it, being quite muscular for his age, and strong enough to carry his heavy armor. He had fought in many wars over the years and rose up to the rank of High Paladin thanks to his skills, not because his father was some influential figure in the community. His armor was a silvery white color, an expensive one to create, and it had gold trim, with actual gold flakes flecked all around it.

However, Roland was quite stubborn, and believed that his way was always the best way to do things because of his experience. While he wasn't outright mean to Yuan and Lux, he would be considered a bit arrogant in his dealings with them, especially as he saw himself superior to them in every way. Damian was a bit of a different story, as Roland constantly called him weak and inexperienced, while Lux and Yuan were only called weak. He loved to show off his skills whenever he could and was always first to the fight, even in this dungeon. As the self-proclaimed leader of the group, Roland had brought the team to the dungeon in the first place, as his desire to be better than everyone else led him to not heed the advice of many of his fellow paladins and not risk venturing into the Barbarian's Dungeon.

In stark contrast to Roland was Yuan, who was only 18 years old. However, he had an incredible knack for magic, and as soon as he could start doing it, he was winning competitions and battles left and right throughout the land. His intelligence wasn't just limited to magic, though. However, since magic wasn't physical at all, and learning all of the elements meant reading books more than fighting battles, Yuan was on the skinny side as well. He was also a bit of a loner, since during the time when most young men were making friends, he was off fighting magic battles. He also clashed with Roland often since the older man didn't want to take the advice of anybody, especially not a younger man. Yuan usually did know what he was talking about, but men like Roland just never seemed to listen to him.

He was also a loner because he was painfully shy, only getting through his initial conversations with Roland because of his high rank in the community. He was also a bit prudish and did not want to show off his skinny body at all. He had a few different mage robes on, actually causing him to look slightly muscular, when that was certainly not the case at all. His party mates, as well as most others in their society, saw Yuan as cold and serious, but that was because he was a bit awkward socially and what he thought of as "fun" wasn't what most people thought of as fun. He and Damian were actually good friends, being born only a few days apart from one another.

Lux split the difference between the two men. He was 30 and had blond hair, along with pale white skin. He rarely talked, having the ability to fully converse if needed, though, and he liked to stay to the side, only taking part in the action when it was absolutely necessary. Much like Yuan, he was quite awkward socially, which some construed as mean, even though that was far from the case. However, since he was an archpriest, Lux hated anything and everything that he saw as impure. He disliked men going shirtless, which was quite common for many people in their society who could barely afford food for their family after working all day. He never drank alcohol and didn't partake in any drugs unless explicitly told to by a healer. He was even more prudish than Yuan, with more robes than him and two pairs of pants under those robes as well.

Finally, Damian was an orphan, his mom dying in childbirth and his dad killed in one of the many wars. The people who took him put him to work as a farmer, which he enjoyed doing, but was excited for the thrill of exploring a dungeon. He didn't know what path he wanted to take in life, but he knew that he didn't want to remain a farmer for the rest of his life. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants that his adopted parents gave to him after it no longer fit one of the other children on the farm. He was also wearing underwear that would be called boxers in the far future.

The four men in the party were walking down a long hallway in the dungeon. Roland had already bested some creatures with some help from Yuan and Lux. Damian didn't have a map in any of the supplies they were carrying, but the hallway seemed to be straight for quite some time. As Roland took a step forward, he suddenly disappeared from sight. Poor Yuan didn't realize that Roland had disappeared until it was too late, and while it was a bit of a struggle trying to escape from the portal, he disappeared too. Both Lux and Damian had tried to pull him out, but ended up falling into the portal as well. All four men woke up in separate dungeons, each magically created to make the best trial for them.

Chapter 2

Roland continued to walk forward for a few more steps before he realized he couldn't hear his men behind him, and he was in an entirely different place. "What is the meaning of this!?" he said out loud, and turned around. Unfortunately, there was a wall just a few feet away, and despite pressing seemingly every part of it, it didn't budge. Roland would have to go the other way, where there were a bunch of men ready to fight him. All of them looked quite young, around Yuan or Damian's age, but they were much more muscular than them.

He approached the first young man, and surprisingly, all of them did not attack him at once. "At least these barbarians know the rules of war," Roland said to himself, as he took out his sword and began to fight. He thought that it would be a quick and easy battle, since he had decades of experience over these men. However, the battle was not as easy as he thought it was going to be, and he soon found himself on the ground, defeated by someone who could easily be his grandson.

"You were just lucky today, boy. I will defeat the rest of you," Roland proclaimed, as the next young man took his place in front of Roland, who had gotten up and recovered from his defeat. What he didn't notice was that because of his loss, some physical changes had started to take place. His skin started to get a bit more tan, and while his muscles didn't shrink, they stayed in proportion to his body, which was getting smaller and younger too. He then clashed swords with the next young barbarian.

He still had all of his knowledge of fighting and of the wars he had fought in, but despite his best efforts, it was clearly no use. He had lost yet another battle to a young barbarian that he was shocked even knew what to do with a sword like the one he was holding. "I will prevail!" Roland defiantly stated. "You men will not best me, do you understand!" The physical changes continued to occur, with every loss turning him more and more into the barbarians that he was fighting. Surprisingly, Roland didn't notice the changes that were happening, even when their effects were much more apparent to him. He knew that he was struggling a bit more than he normally did, but didn't think it was because he had gotten much smaller, for example.

It was after about twelve barbarians were now standing off to the side, having defeated Roland, that the physical transformations were complete. His skin was now the same color as the other men in the room, a dark ruddy tan color, and despite having the same amount of muscle of his body, he was struggling to support his armor now because of his smaller frame and younger body. It did actually give him the appearance of bigger muscles than what he had before, though. He was physically 18 now, but he was still acting like the 53-year-old High Paladin. As he got up to fight the next barbarian, he had a different aura around him. Roland could sense that he was the leader of this group of men.

"I may have lost all of my battles against your troops, but I will win this one and win the war!" he triumphantly stated, although he was getting a bit impatient. The battles that he lost had taken a while, and he still didn't know where the other members of his party were. He wanted to get this over with and find them. It never crossed the leader's mind that this was a test of some kind, especially since the leader would be the thirteenth barbarian that he had fought in a dungeon named after them.

"Isn't it obvious, Roland? You don't have the strength or the power to best any of my barbarians, let alone me! You don't deserve to wear your armor anymore." The leader then struck Roland's armor with his sword, with him not questioning how he knew his name. Roland tried to block it, but swinging the sword and lugging all of the armor around was proving to be a bit more difficult now. He was shocked when the sword caused part of his armor to break off.

"No, not my armor!" he whined, but it was no use. With every strike, more and more of his armor fell to the ground until he was left standing there in just his underwear, which happened to be a loincloth. The barbarian leader then placed his sword on the ground, and put his hands behind his head, exposing his pits. His fellow barbarians did the same, and soon the smell of their musk began to waft through the air. Roland had gotten used to the smell of musk, being a paladin for so many years, but what he didn't realize was that this musk had magical powers as well.

It was dumbing him down with every breath he took, causing him to lose his memories of his battles and how to hold a sword, how to be a leader and how to make a backroom deal for your gold-flecked armor. As his intelligence dropped, the musk was also making him more humble. It was a few minutes later when the mental transformation was complete as well, and Roland no longer thought of himself as "Roland." He was now Ral.

Ral was 18 years old and was considered a barbarian youth, in training to become a full-fledged member of the tribe. He still had his loincloth on, but that was the only thing he had on. He hadn't proven his worth yet, which would allow him to get equipment like boots and harnesses. Despite his ability to use a sword being erased by the barbarians' musk, it was actually replaced with the ability to use an axe in combat, which was quite different from using a sword, despite some similarities. Instead of looking down at the members of his party, he instead looked up to them, wanting to be just like them. After all of the transformations were complete, the barbarian leader moved aside and showed Ral a door at the other end of the room. He walked through it, and waited in the antechamber for the other members of his party to arrive before walking through the door just a few steps away.

Chapter 3

Yuan tumbled into his dungeon, as he was trying to save Roland from whatever was happening to him. Thankfully, he didn't tumble too far, or he would have fallen into a pit of lava. "What happened?" Yuan thought to himself, knowing that there had to be some kind of magical explanation for this. He cast a spell to get rid of the lava. He waved his staff, and nothing happened. He tried again, and still, the lava bubbled and was a crimson red, not the water he was hoping it would turn into.

"Your magic doesn't work here," said a voice from above. Yuan looked up and saw a barbarian youth on one of the many towers sticking out from the lava. He was wearing nothing but a loincloth, and was quite muscular. "However, if you can reach me, then you will be freed from this dungeon and you will be able to use your magic again." The barbarian then expertly hopped to the next tower as Yuan figured out where the closest tower to the edge was. The first couple ones he could walk on, or take a step and land squarely in the middle.

Unfortunately, the next towers were all a bit too far away even for someone as limber as Yuan was. The many clothes that he wore certainly were not helping matters, and he didn't want to take any off. He decided to just take a leap of faith and jump to the next tower, since it was thankfully level with his platform, just a far distance away. As he had feared, his robes and underwear didn't allow him much room, and so he fell into the lava. He expected to be burned and preemptively cried out in pain, but instead he felt his body hit the floor.

"You have failed the first test," the barbarian said, from across the room. "Even though the lava wasn't completely real, it did have some effects." Yuan looked down, and was shocked by what he saw. Not all of his clothes were gone, but most of them were. He only had one layer left on, a thin layer that left little coverage. He instinctively covered himself up with his hands, even though everything sexual was still covered and was in no danger of slipping out. "You can still catch me and get your magic back. It's even less of a challenge than it was before!"

The barbarian ran away again, and Yuan tried to chase after him. Unfortunately, he wasn't too keen on letting his hands down, and he didn't want the barbarian to see his cock flopping around. That meant he was awkwardly moving forward, barely moving an inch with each step. Naturally, he was never going to catch up with the barbarian that way, and the barbarian had other plans for Yuan. Some plants appeared in Yuan's way, looking kind of like a venus fly trap. He was able to push them out of the way with his body, but the plants retaliated at him, spitting some kind of acid at him.

Much like the lava, the acid wasn't truly acid; Yuan's skin was left unscathed. However, it did still have some effects. Most of Yuan's shirt was burned off, and the parts that did remain changed as part of the effects of the acid. The cotton seemingly became leather, even Yuan not understanding how the process actually worked, unless the plant was magic as well. The shirt was also burnt in such a way that it ended up becoming a leather harness on him. However, it was a bit too big and barely stayed on his body as he continued to try and catch the barbarian.

His pants were also sprayed on by another plant that had popped up only a few feet away from the other one. Yuan's body still wasn't hurt, but this time around, his pants were completely burnt off, leaving him in just the harness and his underwear. As he had feared, his underwear changed as well, but he could see why a new plant was needed. Instead of being cotton, the underwear was now made out of fur, and enough of the underwear had burnt off as well that it could accurately be described as a loincloth now. Covering himself up now was no use.

"Please, let me use my magic and let me cover up again!" Yuan whined.

"It's quite simple, adventurer. All you need to do is reach me, and then you will escape and your magic will be restored. And since you don't need to worry about covering up anymore, I can make this a bit more fun again!" The barbarian spread his arms wide and the dungeon changed once more. This time, it turned into more of a maze, with three distinct paths starting where Yuan was standing. The barbarian's voice could still be heard loud and clear at the end of whichever path he was on. "I'll be waiting for you at the end!"

Yuan decided to take the middle path first. All three of them looked exactly the same, and he wasn't sure how he was going to remember which path he had taken already. However, all three paths had the same fruit at the start of it. Yuan could take a bite and then spit it out to mark his path. He found it a bit gross, but that was his best option right now with his lack of magic. He picked up the fruit at the start of the middle path and took a bite. He got ready to spit it out, but instead swallowed it.

It was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life! As he took another step forward, he took another bite of the fruit. While he didn't spit any of it out, he quickly realized that once he backtracked, the fruit on the other two paths would be waiting for him as well. Of course, the fruit was its own kind of trap, although it didn't seem like it at first. Its addictive qualities were causing some changes in Yuan, noticeable changes. With every bite that he took, he gained a bit more muscle.

The harness on his chest was starting to get tighter and tighter, and the skinny wizard was now gaining abs for the first time in his life! His arms and legs were getting bigger and bigger as well, and even his ass was gaining a bit more muscle. Despite the addictive qualities, the fruit didn't do anything to mask its changes to the eater. Eventually, Yuan did notice that he had been gaining muscle unnaturally fast, and for someone as smart as him, he quickly realized that it was the fruit. He threw it down the path and turned around, hoping that this path wasn't the one that led to the barbarian.

However, against all of his better judgment, he found himself running to pick up the fruit again and took another bite, even after it had been on the maze floor again. Yuan knew that it was wrong and that this was a trap now, but there was nothing he could do about it. He did stop walking through the maze, eating and gaining muscle in just one spot now. By the time the fruit was finished, the harness and loincloth were even tighter on Yuan's body and he rivaled the size that Roland was now, if not much bigger.

The walls of the maze retreated, and Yuan noticed that each path he could have taken would have led him to the same point. So the fruit really was a trap. "I see someone really enjoyed the fruit that I laid out for you. You couldn't put it down, right? Well, it'll help you catch me much easier now, so I'll have to make it a bit more of a challenge again." His arms were spread out once more and the towers from before returned, only this time, slime was on the ground underneath them. "Come and catch me," the barbarian taunted, as he jumped to the next tower.

Yuan was ready this time, as despite the loincloth being tight, it still provided a lot of freedom. He was easily able to bound from tower to tower, and he was catching up to the barbarian quickly. However, it couldn't be too easy for the muscular grand wizard to catch up to the barbarian, so Yuan watched in horror as the tower that he was jumping towards retreated back into the slime. There was no way that he could reach another tower in time, so he fell into the slime, and unlike the lava, he actually fell into it. It did have a similar effect to the lava, weirdly enough.

Instead of clothes, though, it was Yuan's hair that was removed. The slime seemed to collect the hair on top of his head and all over his body. Surprisingly, Yuan had been quite hairy, which even the barbarian was shocked by when his clothes were being torn to shreds. The barbarian himself only had some hair on the top of his head, and he watched as Yuan struggled in the slime until all of his hair was completely removed. As the dungeon became flat again and devoid of slime, Yuan had a glow about him now, almost like he was permanently covered in oil, thanks to the slime.

"Well, you're certainly looking good now, adventurer. But I have a few more tricks up my sleeve." The barbarian didn't actually have any sleeves, and the dungeon didn't change too much this time around. The only difference was that some spots were now brightly illuminated by the light outside, or some other source of light. The chase was on again, and Yuan was smart enough to not step into the sunlight, of course. He bobbed and weaved and was once again catching up to the barbarian. He expected his foe to play dirty again, but since he had no magic and didn't use his staff offensively and the barbarian was too far away for combat, he couldn't stop him.

Yuan soon found himself in the middle of a bright spot he knew was not there a second ago. No matter which way he ran, it was only getting bigger and bigger. The trap, of course, had a secondary effect, and Yuan watched as his skin darkened. Unlike with some of the other men who stayed out in the light too long, his skin was not turning red. Instead, it was turning Black, like some of the men in the local tribes. His skin was a deep Black color now, almost ebony by the time the sun spot closed and the barbarian laughed. "You have been quite the worthy adversary, adventurer," the barbarian noted. "So, you just have one final test to pass before you can complete the dungeon and you can have your magic back."

He moved his hand to the side, and a table with two vials of liquid appeared on it. Before he even said anything, Yuan knew that it was going to be a trap. "You're going to say one of these contains my magical essence, while the other one is going to be a trap. However, I know they're both going to be traps. You're not going to fool me, barbarian!"

"I see you are a very smart adventurer. You have a truth spell in your arsenal, do you not? Here, as a sign of good faith, I'll allow just enough magic for you to cast that spell." Yuan then felt a light tingle in his body, the same he had felt when he first started practicing magic. He didn't want to waste it on trying to get out of here by other means, so he cast the truth spell on the barbarian.

"The spell is now in effect."

"The left vial contains your magical essence, adventurer. The right one is the trap." Yuan smirked as he uncorked the left vial and swallowed the solution. He expected to feel the tingling sensation in full force again, but instead, he dropped to his knees, his head in serious pain. "You really thought your magic would work in this dungeon, adventurer? We know of your kind and made sure you thought you had your magic back. As you correctly assumed, both of them were traps!" The pain was so severe Yuan couldn't do anything else but remain on his knees as the effects of the trap took effect.

One of them was a drop in intelligence. Yuan was the smartest one in the group before, but now he had become the dumbest. However, his ability to use magic was not completely removed. He now had the ability to use the same magic that this barbarian had, since he was becoming a barbarian himself. He called himself a shaman now, not a grand wizard. His name didn't change, and he now knew that the oil that seemed to constantly be on his body was his source of mana, his power, and for someone like him, the oil was an innate substance that he secreted.

Additionally, Yuan found himself much more horny now. In addition to becoming a shaman, he was also a barbarian breeder. All of the good men in the barbarian tribe carried that title, as they were blessed with large cocks and were all quite horny. They were the ones who helped the tribe to grow. The barbarian then showed the new Black barbarian the door that led out of the dungeon. Yuan walked through it and arrived at the antechamber just seconds after Ral did. Both men were not shocked by the dramatic changes to the other's appearance.

Chapter 4

"GAAAAAHHHH!" Lux screamed, as he fell through the portal and into a different dungeon than his fellow adventurers. However, calling it a dungeon would be a bit of a stretch. While Lux clearly wasn't outside the dungeon yet, it was like he had stumbled upon a small encampment of barbarians just lounging around and living their lives. Unfortunately for Lux, these men were doing everything that he disliked. For starters, absolutely none of the men in here had shirts on. "Where are your shirts?" he asked one of the barbarians, and before bothering to get an answer, he cast a spell.

Even though he was mostly a healer, he did know several other spells, including one that would make clothing appear. However, he tried casting it a couple times, but to no avail. Another barbarian stood up, this one wearing nothing but a small pair of briefs with his bulge quite prominent. "Your magic does not work here, adventurer. But ours continues to do so." Lux was a bit puzzled by what the barbarian meant. He could barely look at him because of how obscene he was. That meant he was looking down at his clothes, and watched as two layers of his clothes suddenly disappeared.

"What's the meaning of this!?" he screamed out, and to his surprise, the barbarian talked back, although he avoided answering the question.

"Your challenge is quite simple, adventurer. All you need to do is remain here for one hour. After exactly one hour, the door to leave the dungeon will open up, and you will be free to go. It would be best if you kept an open mind throughout the hour, though. Your thoughts will curse you during this time period. The time begins now." A sundial then appeared in the group of barbarians, with clear lines marked for the start and the end of the hour.

"Oh, this will be so easy," Lux said to himself, as he sat down and began to wait. For the first couple of minutes, he thought about his life before stepping foot in the dungeon and the stories he would tell when he was able to leave. However, it didn't help that no matter where he looked, the barbarians were shirtless, and some were in tight loincloths or briefs that left very little to the imagination. He knew he shouldn't think about how indecent they were, and while he dared not say it out loud, he couldn't help but to think about it and grimace at the barbarians.

He soon felt a cool breeze on his chest, his nipples especially bearing the brunt of it. As he had feared, the curse was very real, and now he had no shirt on. Some of the barbarians laughed and snickered in his direction, but Lux didn't react, although he really wanted to. He didn't want to become one of those people. Unfortunately, in trying not to think about it, it only made things worse. Being shirtless was one thing, but some men were practically naked in the loincloths they were wearing. He knew what would happen if he thought about them, but if they would just cover up!

Seconds after thinking that, Lux cursed himself as he too was wearing a loincloth now. It was white with some blue gems towards the top, and actually covered a fair amount of his groin, all things considered. He despised the clothes he was now wearing, but knew that most of his temptations were gone, and the rest of the hour would be smooth sailing. However, it wasn't just their dress that Lux found impure. Nearly all of the barbarians in this camp were drinking alcohol. Of course, Lux could simply see that they were drinking that, and nothing would happen. He really did try not to think about how bad it was for them and all of the terrible effects it would have on their lives.

But even a kid was drinking it! He didn't speak up still, but he couldn't help but think of how messed up that was. There were no obvious outward changes after he thought about drinking alcohol, but now he had a strong desire to drink some. In fact, it was so strong, he walked over to the leader of the group and asked him for some. "Hmm, I didn't know that archpriests like you drank alcohol. But here, I have a special drink just for you." Lux accepted it, and it smelled like alcohol at least. It also vaguely tasted of it from the few drops he had accidentally drunk whenever there was a bar fight at a tavern he was staying at and a drink had been thrown in his direction.

As a result, he didn't suspect anything was amiss as he chugged the drink, craving the alcohol now. He didn't get drunk, and in fact, this was mild alcohol anyways, meaning that even the young barbarian kid wouldn't get drunk as fast. But this alcohol was imbued with something else. As he got his own pitcher of alcohol and a cup to bring over to the area where he had been waiting, Lux didn't notice that his muscles had begun to grow. He had very lean muscles that were usually hidden under layers of clothing, and only exposed now thanks to these barbarians.

But as the minutes of his waiting period passed, Lux was getting bigger and bigger, his muscles from his neck all the way down to his legs increasing in size. His pecs were no longer flat but jutted out from his body a fair amount, and their width also increased dramatically as well. Eight abs formed on his stomach, all clearly delineated and chiseled too. Both his hamstrings and his biceps looked like footballs had been inserted inside of them now, and his ass got much more pert as well. Even Lux's cock changed, growing in length and girth dramatically. The loincloth was now barely covering his groin.

He did eventually notice the changes, and thankfully, thinking about them didn't cause him to get even bigger, to become a muscle monster of sorts. He was still conflicted about the changes to his body and to his clothes, but he had to admit, being a muscular healer would probably have some positive side effects, even if he needed to get bigger robes to hide his new bulk. There was about a quarter of the time left between the two lines, and Lux wondered how he would explain all of these changes to the party when he encountered them again. However, the barbarians weren't done having fun with him. As the kids and younger members were moved back into the tents and other buildings, some of the other barbarians came out and started having sex right in the open. They were pretty loud too, but Lux knew that they were definitely testing him now, and so thought about anything else but the sex happening in front of him.

He even closed his eyes as well, but it wasn't long before all of the sound effects got to him, the slapping of balls against ass and the slurping of cocks, not to mention the moans and groans. "STOP!" he bellowed, but naturally, none of the barbarians did. He wondered what was going to happen to him now. This wasn't really a physical change, but more of a mental change. In addition to his addiction to alcohol, Lux loved having sex now. In fact, that was pretty much all he could think about. His libido went through the roof, and his cock got rock hard watching the sex happening in front of him. He hoped that he could join in, but it wouldn't be long before the door was open. His balls were now churning with copious amounts of cum as well.

Lux had turned into a barbarian pleasure giver, a distinctly different class than a breeder, although he was also a breeder as well. However, his class wasn't all about having sex; in fact, he was one of the many healers of the tribe. His cum had many medicinal properties now, and in addition to cumming on the wound, the afflicted could also swallow his cum or get bred by him to be healed as well. His blonde hair remained, but as part of the previous muscle growth, his skin had also gotten much more tan, slightly darker than Ral's skin now. Despite being a healer, he was still incredibly horny, barely able to think about anything other than having sex now, which he would do often when he wasn't healing.

The door to leave the dungeon then appeared a couple minutes later, but this time around, something, or more accurately, someone, was blocking it. It was not a barbarian, although it did have a humanoid appearance. Lux walked over to it, slightly turned on by it and also leaving the dungeon on autopilot. "Lux, it is my honor to bless you with the power of Pleasuriae," the god stated, as Lux was bathed in a white light tinted with gold. It only served to make him even more horny. Pleasuriae was the barbarian god of pleasure, and they blessed all pleasure givers with their gift. Lux soon stepped through the door and arrived in the antechamber, none of the three men noticing the changes in their fellow adventurers still.

Chapter 5

Damien, of course, wasn't much help in rescuing Yuan at all, and he tumbled in his dungeon even more strongly than Lux did. In sharp contrast to the dungeons of his fellow adventurers, Damien's dungeon could more accurately be described as a hallway, just like the one he had just been in. However, the walls were made out of an entirely different material, and there were recesses in the wall at equal increments for as long as the eye could see. Damien found that despite his tumbling, there was a wall almost directly behind where he was standing, so he had to walk forward.

He passed the first recesses and noticed a bust in it, the same one on both sides. He was quite shocked when they spoke to him, considering he didn't recognize who they were meant to represent. "Be blessed, young adventurer, with the clothes of a prince." Damien was a bit puzzled by what that meant, but as he looked down, his clothes were changing dramatically! His shirt had all but disappeared, being replaced with a leather harness. It would have shown off his pecs if he had any, but as it stood, it was a bit loose right now.

His pants seemed to shrink, eventually turning into a loincloth that covered his groin. It was quite small but still covered everything that it needed to. Additionally, he was given metal arm guards to protect his lower arms. While they were secure around his wrist, the guards were still a bit big and clattered around a bit as he walked forward. Damien was now wearing shoes for the first time in his life, fur boots appearing on his feet, high-quality and comfy fur boots. The clothing changes had all happened by the time that he had reached the next busts.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the pecs of a prince." Damien knew what was probably going to happen next, and so as he slowly stepped forward, he was looking down at his pecs. He had barely had any muscle definition before, but now his pecs were getting bigger and bigger by the second. It took a few seconds for them to reach their new size, and the supply boy now had pecs that he could easily lay some crops on to carry them around. His nipples grew in size to match his massive pecs too, and they got extremely sensitive, although Damien wouldn't know that for a bit. He soon reached the next one.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the abs and legs of a prince." He looked down and watched as eight distinct abs began forming on his stomach. Damien had been skinny enough to be able to feel his ab muscles for a few years now, but they had never gotten this chiseled before and he had only seen them pop out that far on a couple men. His legs also gained a lot more muscle and got quite toned, easily able to support his new massive frame.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the arms of a prince." Damien watched as his arms, especially his biceps, got bigger and bigger. Damien's biceps were his biggest muscle group before all of these transformations started to occur, thanks to being a supply boy and working on a farm for so long. However, that didn't stop his biceps, triceps, and other arm muscles from growing huge. In fact, his arms could no longer hang right by his side; his obliques and biceps made it so that he was forced to have a wider frame at all times.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the groin of a prince." Damien looked down and felt as his flaccid cock was getting longer and longer by the second. His loincloth didn't grow in size to match, so soon enough, his mushroom head was plainly visible as he walked, and he added a fair bit of girth as well. This was all still completely flaccid, and it wouldn't be long before he experienced an erection with his new cock. His ass was no longer flat, having gained a lot of muscle as he walked down the hallway. He now had what would eventually be called a bubble butt, and a big one at that.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the looks of a prince." He wasn't exactly sure what was meant by that, since he had just undergone quite a bit of magical muscle growth. There were no reflective surfaces in the hallway to show it off, but one change was to Damian's hair, making him blonde and growing it out rapidly to reach his shoulders. His face also got more angular and striking, and his eyes became a piercing blue color. He was also blessed with the perfect amount of armpit hair.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the weapon of a prince." This was not some kind of metaphorical weapon that would instead make his balls bigger or something. A war ax appeared in his hands, just slightly bigger than he was now, which was certainly saying something. It barely fit in the hallway as it was, but Damien knew exactly how to use the weapon now, despite Roland not trusting him with anything bigger than a scythe.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the libido of a prince." Damien didn't know what "libido" meant, but he did feel wave after wave of pleasure wash over him as his libido skyrocketed. His cock was getting hard at just the thought of having sex, and he was able to see just how massive his erect cock was now. He could see why they thought of him as a prince. Despite him being just as horny as Lux was now, Damien wasn't as focused on having sex, at least he would be soon after passing the next busts.

"Be blessed, young adventurer, with the leadership of a prince." Damien also wasn't sure what exactly would change because of that, but that solidified his mental changes. He now thought of himself as prince of the barbarians, and unlike the other roles given to his fellow adventurers, there was only one prince. He knew that he was both the leader of the small group of barbarians venturing the dungeon under him, and leader of all the barbarians. He was especially interested in his youngest party member, Ral.

Despite there only being a couple years' difference between the two of them, Ral still had a lot to learn, and Damien was going to take him under his wing. He would help Ral get as big as the other barbarians were, and naturally, sex was a huge part of his training as well. With his princely transformation complete, he stepped through the door at the end of the hallway and arrived at the antechamber. He didn't stop walking, Ral, Yuan, and Lux following suit behind him as they walked through the other door and into the barbarian utopia.

None of the four men had any memories of who they were before they stepped foot in the barbarians' dungeon. Ral had always thought that that was his name, and that he was a young recruit and not some grizzled war hero. Yuan's changes weren't too dramatic in some senses when compared to his fellow party members, but it would no longer bother him to be practically naked and dripping with oil with every step and he always thought that he had been a Black man. Lux had no memories of trying to fight and reverse the changes made to him. In fact, he was much too horny to remember what he did yesterday, let alone what he was like five or so years ago. Even Damien had no memory of who he used to be, even though all of his changes were positive.

"The prince has returned! The prince has returned!" announced the barbarians close to the dungeon as Damien and his party stepped out. Many of the barbarians came rushing over to the group, and it wasn't long before a muscular oiled man who looked quite similar to Yuan stepped forward and knelt in front of Damien.

"We are blessed of your safe return, Prince Damien. Your reward for traversing the dungeon and protecting it from outsiders will be ready shortly. Do you wish for your current party members to join you, or would you like to pick three other men?"

"Ral, Yuan, and Lux have all gone through a lot with me. They deserve to be rewarded as well."

"Very well, my prince. Please, follow me." Damien and his group, along with a group of shamans all walked over to one of the many temples the barbarians had erected. As soon as Ral entered, the door to the temple magically closed, barring any other barbarians from entering and partaking in the pleasure.

Chapter 6

The group then walked into the middle of the temple. Summoning lines were written on the floor, and there was enough open area for four men to stand. The shamans took their place outside of the lines, making sure that they would not offend the gods by accidentally partaking in the reward. Damien stripped first, knowing what had to be done, and he showed off his enormous cock to all of the shamans and his fellow party members. While cock size wasn't the reason he was made prince, if it is, he would still be the barbarian prince. Yuan and Lux both had impressive cocks as well, but they paled in comparison to Damien's. Even Ral's cock was bigger than the average male cock in the twenty-first century, but much smaller than all of the other party members'.

The lead shaman then began speaking. "We call upon the powers of Pleasuriae to reward Damien and his party members for successfully keeping our lands free of invaders!" The shamans then began chanting in a language all four new barbarians seemed to know innately, but was foreign to them just earlier that day. Pleasuriae came up often in the chants, and a minute or so later, the chants ended. The smells of musk and sex permeated the air, and Lux felt a familiar presence as Pleasuriae appeared again, this time overlooking all four of the men and the shamans who summoned them.

"Welcome, Prince Damien, and his fellow party members. It is my honor to reward you for successfully protecting our community once again. You will be blessed with insatiable horniness for twelve hours, even greater than the horniness Lux has coursing through his veins now. You will be able to cum immediately after cumming, and you will never tire until my blessing has passed. However, that is not all. There is one final challenge, and one of you will win it regardless.

"The barbarian who cums the most shall receive a special reward. They will be blessed permanently with the abilities given to you during this reward session. The cum does not need to land on a party member's body or inside of them; it simply needs to come out of your cock and it will be added to the total. I will be watching the orgy the entire time, and whoever is the winner at the end will feel the same way even after the reward has finished. And yes, even our breeder Lux is able to receive this reward."

With that, Pleasuriae disappeared from the dungeon, but not after the effects of his blessing took place. All four men immediately got rock hard within seconds, and all of them were looking at each other with lust in their eyes. However, even in their horned-up state, they still knew the hierarchy they had, and so Damien sat on the ground as Yuan and Lux took turns sucking on his cock. Ral sat off to the side, furiously stroking his cock as his prince was pleasured. None of the four men had had experience in gay sex before, but with their transformations into barbarians, it was now second nature to them.

Damien had ejaculated twice and Yuan and Lux had each done so once, jerking off as they were sucking their prince off, before Ral was finally allowed to have a turn. To show deference to his prince, he crawled over to him on his hands and knees before opening his mouth and sucking on Damien's cock. Damien was the most inexperienced out of the bunch, though, and in fact, his blowjob didn't last too long. Damien didn't even get to cum before pushing Ral off of his cock. "Show me your hole!" he bellowed, and the young barbarian-in-training did just that.

What Pleasuriae had neglected to mention was that their assholes were also self-lubricating during this blessed period, and that would remain for the winner as well. Although lube wouldn't be invented for thousands of years, the barbarians used spit and other similar liquids so that their anal sex would be easier. Despite the self-lubrication, Ral's asshole was still quite tight, only having recently started his sexual training. Taking his prince's behemoth cock was probably not the smartest choice right now, but he was too horny to care.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" he moaned, as Damien pressed his cock up against Ral's hole before it finally slid in. Yuan and Lux were jerking off at first to the hot breeding happening in front of them, but soon realized that they could have some fun together. They were of equal standing in barbarian society, so they quickly decided that Lux would fuck Yuan first. Lux was probably the most horny barbarian in existence right now, and he desperately wanted to feel his cock inside of another barbarian's hole.

As for Damien and Ral, the prince was slowly pushing his cock deeper and deeper into Ral's hole. Thanks to the self-lubrication, it was much easier to get more and more of his cock inside, but he had just barely made it halfway before it started to get more and more difficult. He did love a challenge, though, filling up one of his fellow barbarians with his enormous cock. Ral was moaning and panting the entire time, and his body was covered in as much sweat as Yuan usually was as he took more and more of his prince's cock.

Meanwhile, Lux was fucking Yuan like a rabbit. Once he was inside Yuan, his desire to breed as part of his role in society just took over, and it was barely a minute, if that, between his cumshots. Yuan certainly didn't mind getting filled up by Lux's seed, and he was stroking his cock the entire time, getting the temple floor covered in his cum as his ass was getting filled by Lux's. Eventually, the two of them decided to swap when Yuan's hole was leaking out cum and there seemed to be no more room inside of his cavernous hole.

Damien was still taking his time breeding Ral, although the young barbarian had ejaculated a few times from the pleasurable sensations he was feeling with such a big cock inside of him. Both men moaned quite loudly as Damien's balls finally slapped against Ral's ass. The prince's cock was so big that it actually made a faint bulge on Ral's stomach, and once Damien was in all of the way, the fucking could really pick up in intensity. Sweat was dripping onto the floor and the smell of sex and musk was even stronger in the air as it didn't take long for Damien to deposit the first of many loads into Ral's hole.

As Damien was getting himself balls-deep, it was Yuan's turn to fuck. In addition to having a cock that never seemed to quit, Lux's hole was already pretty wide and had a permanent gape, even before the blessing and on top of the self-lubrication. As a result, it only took a few thrusts for Yuan to go balls-deep as well, and it actually made it easier to hit Lux's prostate as well, as Yuan was easily able to line up his cock. This caused both men to cum quite frequently, and Yuan too filled up Lux's hole, but it took quite a few more cumshots to do that.

Eventually, Damien tired of fucking Ral, although he didn't completely fill him up with his load yet. He and Yuan switched partners, as he loved fucking the breeders, and shamans were just a smidge about breeders in the hierarchy anyways. It wasn't difficult at all for Damien to fuck Lux, although quite a bit of Yuan's cum was still inside of his hole. However, that just provided some easier lubrication, and it wasn't long before Damien was dumping loads inside of Lux as well. A small puddle had started to form around where Damien was fucking thanks to the numerous loads that Ral and now Lux were pumping out.

As for Yuan, even his cock was still too big for Ral's hole, despite the prince opening it up a bit more. Ral's moans were the loudest in the temple as Yuan pushed his cock in deeper and deeper. However, thanks to the loads from his prince and the self-lubrication already, it didn't take as long before Yuan's balls slapped against Ral's ass as well. He spewed the first load out of his cock not even a minute later, and the puddle of cum around this area was even bigger and deeper even, all thanks to the insatiable horniness of Lux.

Eventually, Lux's hole was filled up with cum again, and it wasn't long before Yuan had done the same to Ral. Poor Ral was forced to remain a bottom as Yuan finally bottomed again, this time for his prince. Lux was excited to breed again, especially with an impressionable young man like Ral. Yuan knew that even though he was second-in-command in this group, he still had to defer to the prince, and besides, he wanted his prince's big fat juicy cock inside of him. He got on his hands and knees and pushed some of the cum out of his ass as the smell of musk and sex in the air got even stronger.

In fact, it was making the men so horny that Yuan started to lap up the cum on the temple floor as Damien began to breed him. The prince just chuckled as he fucked one of his shamans, his favorite shaman. He knew that it probably won't be long before Yuan joined the shamans on the outside of the circle, summoning the sex god and their blessing instead of partaking in it. However, he quickly turned his mind back to fucking, and it wasn't too long before he added his loads to Lux's.

Lux was having the time of his life breeding the young barbarian-in-training. Thanks to his standing as a breeder, his body had a different reaction to the tight and likely virile hole Ral possessed. Even after factoring in both blessings from Pleasuriae he had received, Lux was still even more horny than the other three men, since someone like Ral would have the best chance of reproducing and giving birth successfully as well. He deposited quite a few loads into Ral's hole, literally cumming within seconds of each other sometimes. Unfortunately, due to the combination between top and bottom, Ral's hole was filled within minutes, and the two of them stopped having sex and watched as Damien continued to breed Yuan.

Since Yuan's hole wasn't filled up with as much seed, especially after he had pushed some out, Damien could fuck him for quite some time. The puddle of cum was surprisingly so high that it covered Yuan's fingers now as Damien finally shot his last load into Yuan's hole, his cock slipping out as well because of all of the cum inside of it. But despite both bottoms being filled with cum right now, there was still quite a bit of time for the blessing, and they had only fucked doggy-style so far.

The four of them fucked in several different positions and they continued to suck each other as well, tasting just as much cum as had filled up their holes by the time the blessing was complete. They didn't just focus on anal and oral sex, though. There was some more worshiping involved, body worship and even musk worship as well. Damien naturally was worshiped the most, but even he took part in worshiping Yuan and Lux's sweaty, musky, muscular bodies as well. Ral was not worshiped during the blessing, but he did get turned on worshiping all three men above him in society, and also in height too. Just before it was set to complete, Pleasuriae appeared and lightly chuckled before speaking. There was a literal layer of cum plastered all over the temple floor, the party members had cummed so much. The smell of musk, sweat, and sex was so strong that it was quite noticeable even outside of the sealed temple walls, and all four men had cum leaking from the corners of their mouths, assholes, and cocks, not to mention dripping with sweat.

"It would appear as though that this has been a bountiful blessing. I hope all of you have enjoyed it, and I hope to see you, Yuan, here again soon, unfortunately not in the middle of the room again. But on a wholly unrelated note, it is, in fact, Yuan who had ejaculated the most during the blessing. He will continue to have the benefits of the blessing, which will likely help out with his magic. Thank you for this bountiful offering as well." Pleasuriae then slurped up the cum from the floor, swallowing every last drop as the blessing ceased.

Lux returned to a less horny state, but still hornier than Damien and Ral were right now. Yuan continued to feel the same way, although his mind wasn't as clouded by sex and horny thoughts as they had been, although it was still a lot of what he thought about. The four men then put their clothes back and the shamans opened the door to the temple so that they could all walk out. Yuan walked away with the other shamans, all of them glistening in the sunlight thanks to the oil on their bodies. Lux found himself drawn to the breeding tent, where men and women alike came to get bred and hopefully produce a younger barbarian. As for Ral, he soon found the other barbarian youth that were of age, and began training with them once more.

A barbarian with a scrying bowl rushed over to the prince, dressed a bit more conservatively than most barbarians, but not by much. "My prince, another party has entered the dungeon. When would you like the process to start?"

"I'd like to see the information we gathered first. I want to see what kinds of barbarians we're turning these four men into." Damien loved turning adventurers into barbarians, and their land was right next to a very gullible group of men who always seemed to want to prove their worth by successfully completing the Barbarian's Dungeon.

Aronik

--- Originally posted by unknown on 2017-12-03 ---

I was a bit of nerd growing up. Actually, I was a complete nerd. Round red pimples dotted my face. Chalk white skin covered my body. Bulging stubborn fat covered my torso and thighs. Taped wireframe glasses hung on my large bird nose. I was quite the looker.

That all changed one day at the beach. I dreaded going to the beach. Where I'm from, the beach was the only place the good looking people ever went. Their tanned skin, taut muscles, sun kissed hair, glowing confidence all annoyed me. It was totally because I was envious of them. My parents urged me to come with them, and I obliged because what else would I do. I hadn't any friends and although going anywhere with parents at my age was social suicide, I was buried long ago, along with my social reputation.

Anyway, this time was different. I brought a hat and kept my shirt on to avoid the ridicule of the jocks I KNEW were going to be there, like Austin Keller, the hottest guy at school and the object of my affections since fourth grade when we shared my Crayola 64 pack. He didn't know who I was anymore but under my hat and with my book covering my face I would stare all day long at his glistening smile and big muscles bouncing in action. My parents urged me to go to the water and I finally obliged when I foot hit a hard object on my way to the waves. It hurt like a train on a track so I bent down and picked up what looked to be a small golden bee.

Suddenly a man appeared and smiled, saying "Hiya! Aw thanks man you found my statue!" I was perplexed and before handing it over asked why he had this weird idol with him. He responded "I use it for a little shoot I'm running. Thanks for returning it though. Here's a little something in return." He handed me a Speedo and continued, "If you want you can help me by modeling these. Just go into the changing room and swap out your shorts for these. I'm sure they'll look great on you!" I had a humble three inches down there, and my love handles were already spilling over my current shorts, so wearing these would be even more of a reason for the jocks to humiliate me. I gave the guy a deadpan look and he reassured me: "I swear it'll compliment your look. I'm looking for people with... unique looks... so I know you'd be the right fit."

There was nothing to lose so I waddled over to the changing rooms and swapped my shorts for the speedo. The second I put them on a wave of exhaustion came over me. I collapsed and passed out in the room. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but notice how I felt. Lighter, to say the least. I looked down and noticed my shirt was tight against my stomach anymore. In fact, I didn't even have a stomach anymore. The second I put my hand, my skinnier and tanner hand, on my stomach I felt nothing but abs and tight skin. I took off my shirt and was struck by the sight. Caramel tan skin adorned my body, covering round strong pecs and a tight six pack. I looked down at my legs and noticed their impeccable definition. The speedo fit me perfectly and showed off my butt, originally large because of my fat, but now tight and muscular. My arms were no longer chicken wings but huge with trained biceps and triceps that flexed with ease. I finally glanced at the mirror and took in my new face. My new sharp eyes pierced right into my soul. My nose looked brand new, as if I had gotten the best rhinoplasty in the world. My defined jawline was so defined. My plump lips pouted and made me look so. fucking. sexy.

I wanted to check out my new package, but there was a knock at the door. "Hey pal, enjoying the speedo?" I heard a familiar voice say.

"I've never felt better." I replied, hearing my new sultry deep voice for the first time. I opened the door and met the guy, who proceeded to take me down to the water for the photo shoot. As I posed, I noticed Austin not so subtly gawking at me. I offered him a wink and instantly saw his hard on. Let's just say the changing rooms were in need of a clean up after our little session.

A Special Kind Of Roleplay

“Seriously? Did you really have to change me in this tiny ass bathtub?” Jake cried out towards the open door of the bathroom. He huffs and puffs as he attempts to sit up, water overflowing the tiny tub and crashing onto the tiled bathroom floors. After several attempts and loud expletives, Jake eventually gave up the thought of getting released from the small bathtub that was constricting his extremely bulky body. If you could believe it, just a few minutes prior, Jake was the polar opposite in terms of physique: just a small twink. After a long day at work, the man had been hoping to relax with a simple bubble bath; to let the Jacuzzi jets massage his sore body. Unfortunately for Jake, it seems like his boyfriend Alex had other plans.

When they first met, Jake was kept in the dark about Alex and his family’s surprising history. However, after months of dating and earning his boyfriend’s trust, Alex eventually divulged the details of the magically-inclined abilities that his bloodline had been blessed with. Of course, Jake laughed at Alex’s statement, not believing a single word as reality. Alex of course expected this, so to prove it, the broad and buff man quickly uttered some words until his breath. Before his eyes, Jake watched as Alex’s thick brown hair quickly lightened several shades and transformed into a highly styled cut. Upon seeing this, Jake immediately demanded that his boyfriend tell him everything. Sparing no details, Alex then spent hours detailing his family’s history and how he was a novice warlock still attempting to get his powers to reach their full potential.

Throughout the several years they had been together after this revelation, Alex’s prowess in terms of utilizing his magic exponentially grew. With these growing skills, Alex used his powers to have fun with his boyfriend. First, it started with simple things like teleportation spells to treat his boyfriend with lavish trips across the world in a matter of seconds. But then, his focus turned outwards as he sought to use his powers to help the world. As a result, Alex became a pseudo-vigilante, looking to punish anyone who attempted to cause a ruckus in the world. 

With Jake by his side, they had a blast punishing sexist men by turning them into their idealized stereotype women, or turning petty thieves into stray animals that soon littered the back alleys and sidewalks of their bustling town. Sure, they couldn’t conjure up a cure to any deadly diseases or achieve world peace, but their plans of helping fix the world by punishing one asshole at a time seemed to the couple as a perfectly valid use of Alex’s powers.

However, as the cycle of doing the same magical changes began to repeat itself every week, Alex soon began to grow bored of these acts and longed for more. The warlock then decided to focus his magic abilities elsewhere, specifically to help progress his long-term relationship. After moving in together, the couple soon began to be less and less sexual as work, part-time vigilantism, and various other commitments began to take up their time. By the time the two of them fell back into their Queen-sized bed, the couple were too physically drained to do anything other than a few soft kisses. It was at this realization that Alex began to converse with his family’s centuries-old spellbook to find just the thing to spice up their relationship…

This brings us back to Jake, where the thin man had exploded in both body hair and beefy muscle in the span of a few minutes. Of course, this added bulk was completely unplanned, which led to the mix of bubbles and water to rise over the tub and cascade onto the tiled floor below. “What the fuck!” the man cried out, gasping as he heard a thundering voice billow out of his mouth. Looking down, Jake could only watch as hairy beefy pectorals pushed forth from his chest with no discomfort. The changes continued, with his entire body bulking up and his stomach gaining a modest but impressive gut that just further showcased the bulky beefy man he was becoming. Rubbing his face, he felt a voluminous bushy beard push forth from his chin and cover up his wider, much more masculine face. Unknown to Jake, but his body was also slightly aging as well, his age going from a solid 23 to an impressive 29. 

As he stared down at the hairy sea of chest hair he now possessed, he looked down at the simple locket that was firmly nestled between his wide pectorals. Before his eyes, the locket itself evolved and split into various different pieces of chain. This chain then began to undergo mitosis as it somehow split into multiple necklaces. He could only watch in disbelief as the number of necklaces multiplied, with each additional necklace growing bulkier. Looking at the sight below him, Jake was in awe at the pure vision of unbridled masculinity. His body was nothing like this, with every inch of his body seemingly changed. As the head of his dick bobbed above the water, Jake moved his meatier hands towards his crotch and grasped onto the thicker and longer cock that he now possessed. He was fairly well-endowed prior to the change, but as a bottom, Jake never really had much use for his dick. However, with a body like this, it seemed likely that Jake may be switching positions with Alex.

Despite his appreciation for his new form, he was still quite annoyed at the fact that his boyfriend had clearly changed him as a surprise. “Alex, get in here!” Jake called out, his eyes narrowing as his gaze directed to the  door frame. Hearing the sound of footsteps shuffling towards him, Jake prepared himself to scold his hunky boyfriend. However, as a man came into the bathroom completely naked, it was clear that the normal appearance of his boyfriend had been replaced by someone completely different. 

As the man put his hand up and scratched the back of his head, he began to speak with a lighter voice that was a far cry from Alex’s previously husky voice. “Hey babe, did you enjoy your change?” Upon looking at Jake and seeing his own handiwork, Alex smiled and chuckled at the sight of the beefy bearded man still wedged into the tub. 

“Regardless of if I do or not, I don’t appreciate you springing this on me without letting me know… The floor is soaked!” Jake said, every syllable falling out of his mouth showing a level of annoyance due to his deeper voice. 

“Ah, so you do like it huh?” Alex said, moving closer to the tub and crouching down. “I’m sorry I sprung it on you, I just thought it would be a hot surprise. I honestly forgot how tiny this tub is…” his voice trailing off as he turned his head towards the standing water covering the bathroom floor. 

“I guess I may like it, it’s a good surprise I suppose. It’s just the first time you’ve ever changed me, so I’m still trying to get acclimated to everything…” Jake said, reaching a hand out to his boyfriend. Alex came up and grabbed onto his hand, pulling to help unwedge his now-beefy partner. If he would have been in his original body, Alex would have been able to lift him with ease. But due to the smaller lithe frame he now possessed, the man had to struggle several times before he was able to eventually lift Jake up and out of the tub. Now with both of them standing up, Jake notices how he now towers over his boyfriend, with his hunky frame skyrocketing past 6’ while Alex has shrunk to a modest 5’5”. 

Upon seeing this difference, Jake looked to Alex and asked “Why did you change though? Why would you ever sacrifice all of those muscles to be a thin twink like I used to be?” 

Turning to Jake, Alex began to respond. “Well, I thought maybe I could sweeten up the deal and offer you an opportunity. I saw that guy on the bus home from work one day and thought it would be hot to turn you into him. Given that you’re so big now, I thought we could incorporate it into the bedroom, hence the twink you see before you…” Alex said, smiling as he turns and shows off his perky bubble butt to the hulking man. 

“Hmm, I could get behind this…” Jake chuckled, feeling his cock quickly stiffen up at the sight of his twinkified boyfriend. 

Alex took note of this, quickly dropping onto his knees and placing Jake’s throbbing dick into his mouth. Now feeling dominant due to his new body, Jake’s hands quickly begin to wrap around the back of Alex’s head and lead his boyfriend in how to give him the perfect blow job. However, by the time Jake shoots his load into Alex’s mouth, the bearded man finds that he isn’t quite sexually satisfied yet. With a huff, he easily lifts up his boyfriend and pulls him into the bedroom, feeling the hairless body of his twink boyfriend against him. As they both fall into their bed, they begin to wonder about all of the possibilities that await them. While Alex let Jake lead the way and begin to screw his tight bubble butt, he scolded himself for waiting so long to try and fix their dry sex life. With an impressive warlock like Alex and the couple’s creative imagination, both men were sure that this wouldn’t be the last time they had an immersive roleplay session.