Musky - Blog Posts

Will you be my Valentine?

I know it’s not Valentine’s day but I got a burst of inspiration so here’s a story, if tumblr takes this down (fingers crossed it doesn’t) i’ll post a blogspot link later. cheers :)

“Melanie, I think we need to break up.”

Quiet heads turned to observe the couple, a few whispers shared, before they went back to minding their business. The young woman sat there, shell-shocked, not really what she was expecting to hear from her boyfriend on their 5-year anniversary. “I-I’m sorry what?”

Her boyfriend looked at her apologetically, his eyes beginning to water as his voice started to break. “It’s just…fuck how do I say this. Melanie, I’m gay.”

Melanie sat solemnly and silently, staring blankly as she watched her boyfriend struggle. She could feel each thump of her own heart and the blood in her veins freezing over with ice.

“You’re…” Melanie shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows, as her body had a physical reaction to even imagining the possibility, “…gay?”

There was a long pause of silence between the couple, neither able to look each other in the eye without bursting into tears of guilt or anger.

“Yes.”

Melanie glanced at her boyfriend with hurt seeping through her misty eyes, in that moment, she could remember everything. She remembered meeting him the first day she moved to their city in elementary school. As they grew up right next to each other, he turned out as the rich, popular playboy jock and her the sweet girl-next-door. Finally, after years of waiting and her being secretly in love with him, he asked her out junior year of High School. She remembered all of their dates, night’s of sneaking out, and even prom; she could still smell his cologne on the wind from when they held each other tight and swayed to the music. They were the high school sweethearts, and now, she knew all of it was a lie.

“Are you mad at me?” Her boyfriend had tears rolling down his face at this point, his heart thumping with guilt, anxiety, and so much relief as the secret he had held for so long had finally been released.

Melanie felt more than anger, she felt used, cheated, lied to, manipulated, all while her boyfriend feigned his heterosexuality. But she knew, even through all that, she had never loved anyone more than she loved him. For years, she believed they were soulmates and that destiny had allowed her to meet him so early. They were neighbors, they liked the same things, they even got into the same college! Yet now, she felt betrayed by not only her lover but the entire universe itself. “Was any of it…real?”

“Fuck Mel! Of course it was real! You mean everything to me, every single ‘I love you’ and every moment we shared, it was all real. I do love you Melanie…” Her eyes sparkled at the words, part of her brain praying that this was all some cruel joke or fever dream. “…but I know that I would be so much happier loving another man.”

Her heart sunk into her chest once again, the hope taken as soon as it was given. She glanced around the restaurant, tears welled in her eyes as she tried to distract her mind with the expensive scenery. Silver chandeliers brimmed with jewels dangled from the ceiling, gold framed paintings filled the walls, and even the ambiance felt like it costed an arm and a leg. Bradley had booked the most expensive restaurant he knew, it was their 5-year anniversary after all, why not go all out? If anything, Melanie had expected Bradley to have pulled out a ring tonight. Alas, it was already 12 am and the clock almost seemed to tick quicker as seconds until she had to surface back to reality counted down.

Bradley, a little hesitant to open his mouth again, took in a deep breath and tried to explain himself, “I understand that you probably hate me now and I know that I should never have let this go on for so long, but I was too scared to ever hurt you. I tried so hard to stay in love with you, I even fucking watched lesbian porn just to try and force myself to be straight but every single time my eyes couldn’t help but think about two guys instead. I just couldn’t keep up this fucking act, I’ve been hiding behind you for so long and to be completely honest, I fell in love with someone. I think I finally want to be free.”

Melanie’s eyes widened in fury at that last part. “Free Brad? Really? Free? Is that what we were to you? A prison? Something so suffocating that you needed to escape from it? I will always love and support you, no matter what, but don’t act like I am the reason we couldn’t work out. While I was busy preparing us for the rest of our lives together, you were jerking your dick to some other guy? Goodbye Bradley, I never want see you again.”

With that closing statement, Melanie stood up from her chair, grabbed her purse, and strode out of the restaurant without a glance back at the person she had loved for 5 years. Bradley sat there, lost in his thoughts and his heart full of guilt, not a sound left his lips. He kept his eyes to the ground, without looking up to see the person he had loved for 5 years leaving his life.

—

“BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BA-”

The 21 year old woman groaned as stretched her arm across her bed and grabbed her phone, pressing snooze on her newly-set, 11:30 A.M. alarm and giving herself a few more moments of rest. After a minute or two, she slowly opened her eyes and adjusted to the light in her room. She could taste the warmth of the morning sun streaming through her curtains, filling her with just enough energy to sit up in her bed.

“Woo, okay Melanie, you got this! Just pull yourself together,” she spoke aloud, mentally preparing herself for the rest of the day. Checking her phone again, she turned off her alarm and swiped through her notifications. “February 14th, just great…” Today was going to be an especially rough day for her, but she had a plan for herself. Melanie took in a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the fresh morning atmosphere and exhaled her bad energy out. Valentine’s Day was going to be a day for her and only her.

It had been exactly 3 weeks since the ex-High school sweetheart’s anniversary and Melanie felt lonelier than ever. Though she kept a front to her friends, saying that he was ‘wasted 5 years of her life’ and that ‘he’s a good-for-nothing cheater,’ deep down she knew she missed him more than she could ever tell.

Without Bradley, her life had been a complete mess the last few weeks. She had been so used to his huge body’s warmth in their queen sized bed, now it felt so cold and empty. She no longer awoke to the sound of Brad blending his protein shake in the morning, causing her to wake up late to class. Her entire world felt unbalanced, as if it were off it’s axis, and she was nauseous from the vertigo.

Melanie knew that she had the right to furious at him and that everything she said was true but no matter what she did, she could not stop thinking about him. Having him for long, she was almost unable to live without him, and as the unbearable longing she had felt grew larger and larger, the more she felt like she needed to make amends with her jock of an ex.

Alas, today was not going to be that day. Making up with your ex-boyfriend on Valentine’s Day? Not the greatest decision, especially if he’s moved on to someone else, more specifically, another man.

Melanie knew that today needed to be a day to focus on herself, which meant cleaning up her mess of a life. Namely her depression room, which had accumulated it’s ‘depression’ over the past few weeks. Tear-dried tissues scattered her floor along with unwashed clothes and a lingering scent of sadness. Her closet was in such a state of disarray that Melanie dreaded the idea of even touching it but she knew she had to.

With a sigh, Melanie began with her closet, hanging up clothes, tossing them in her hamper, and organizing her accessories. As she searched through her closet, she came across a very special antique necklace, one that she was not only very surprised but very unhappy to find. “Shit. It just had to be today huh?”

Melanie had found the necklace Bradley had given her on their 1st-year anniversary. He told her it was an antique family heirloom, and that it was meant to be given to the woman of the next generation. He had said that his great-great-great-grandmother had first been gifted the amulet by her husband and she passed it down to her daughter, and then through each generation, it had wound up all the way to Bradley’s mother, and then finally to Melanie. He had explained to her that the silver chain was symbolic of the unbreaking bond between the woman and her love and the black pearl represented his family and the magic; strength, riches, and mystery. Although this could have had all been a lie spun by him, which Melanie realized now that it wasn’t out of the question, his family was loaded-rich and seemed like the “wealthy heirloom passing lineage” type to do carry on a tradition of the sort.

Melanie sighed, she had lost the pendant a year ago and sobbed uncontrollably when she apologized to Bradley. She remembered how he smiled and comforted her instead of getting, understandably, angry and yelling at her. Instead Bradley took her to his couch and hugged her, caressing Melanie on the back as she cried into his shirt, whispering that it was okay. Melanie caressed her arm, reminiscing on the memory of him and her being so close together.

Melanie got up and walked over to her mirror, looking into it as she held the necklace in front of her. She studied it intently, tracing her finger along its silver chain and the black pearl center piece. She sighed, it was breathtaking. With a shrug, Melanie let her intrusive thoughts take over as she unclipped it and placed it around her neck. As she locked the clasp around her neck, Melanie let out a soft gasp as she viewed herself, the pendant was stunning and it felt so perfect for her form. It didn’t feel cold like her normal jewelry did, it felt almost alive, as if it were radiating this warm energy and filling her with an exuberant confidence.

As much as Melanie knew that she could keep it for herself or even make thousands off of the necklace, if it turned out to be real of course, having a reason to reach out to Bradley and make amends was all she truly desired inside.

With a deep sigh, she grabbed her phone and opened it up to her messages. After a bit of scrolling, she found Bradley’s contact. She laughed to herself, remembering how she so angrily changed his name from “Soulmate” to “Cheating Bastard” the night they broke up. Taking in a deep breath, her heart fluttered and her fingers were shaky. She convinced herself it wasn’t weird to text your ex on Valentine’s Day at all when there’s a reason such as returning a precious, and expensive, family heirloom back to it’s rightful owners. It was the moral thing to do.

Though nervous, she began to type out a simple and quick message, just short to the point:

Hey Bradley, I know this seems like a really weird text to get all of a sudden but funny story, so I found your family heirloom necklace while I was cleaning my closet and I wanted to return it since you told me how important it is. Haha weirdly enough I cleaned my closet today to get my mind off of you because I’ve been kind of missing you lately and-

“Yeah no,” Melanie scoffed, completely erasing the paragraph she had already typed out. Melanie put her phone down and tried formulating her thoughts. After a little bit, Melanie began typing again but the second message was soon to be erased. Then the cycle repeated itself for a third instance, then a fourth, and finally a fifth, each time diminishing her willpower to even text him.

“God why can’t this just be easy for me!” Melanie yelled aloud in frustration, tossing her phone to the side. However as she spoke those words, she felt a wave of energy release from her neck, but more specifically, from the pendant. She looked down in curiosity and slight shock, “What the hell?”

Almost simultaneously, her phone chimed and the warmth emanating off the necklace stopped. A little in shock, she dismissed the occurrence as an effect of her not having any breakfast yet. Melanie shook her head, steadied herself, and checked her phone. What she read on her screen was far more surprising than whatever the hell happened with the necklace. It was a text from Bradley:

Yo Mel I know this is a kinda weird text for u to get from me today but I think we needa talk. It’s been hella weird not being around you & I miss you (not romantically ofc) but I still don’t want you to disappear from my life. It’s Brad incase you deleted my number lmao

Melanie’s heart was beating like crazy, what the hell is that timing? She brushed the necklace with her fingertips, a bit freaked out at the sheer coincidence of her situation. She gulped and, a bit too quickly, she replied:

Haha funny story, I found your family’s necklace in my closet while I was cleaning just now and was about to text you so I could return it. How’s my place @ 1:30?

Her heart palpitated as she saw his grey chat box with the three dots pop up almost instantly. Brad texted back:

Alr c u then

Mel’s heart skipped a beat, she tossed her phone away, a little unable to come to terms with what she had just done. “RRRGGGGGHHH WHY DID YOU INVITE HIM HERE?!” She groaned frustratingly at herself, drained by her whole situation.

After calming herself down, she checked her phone again and realized it was already 12:30. She had exactly an hour to become presentable for her ex-boyfriend and currently, she looked like she hadn’t showered in weeks. Taking one last look in mirror, she sighed “What’s wrong with you Mel? Why do you still feel this way for that cheating asshole?” She sighed, a moment of silence created as only one, single thought raced throughout her mind. Pensive and a bit distraught, her hand instinctively reached to touch the black pearl amulet as she envisioned all of her most cherished memories with Brad. With an exasperated desire on her lips, she confessed aloud, “I wish that he was in love with me.”

Mel felt a bit at ease now that she was finally able to be honest about her feelings. Along with that relief, also came the same familiar warmth from before, however this time it felt much stronger and it was far more obvious about its source, the black pearl. The foreign energy quickly flowed into her entire body. Like a crescendo, the heat emanating from the necklace became more powerful by the second, until finally it felt like it was burning her neck. She gasped, quickly grabbing the necklace only for it to sear her palm. “Shit!” she cursed, attempting to unclasp the necklace proved to be futile as even touching in the slightest burned her fingertips. She tried pulling it off but the silver chain felt almost indestructible. She yanked and tugged to no avail, the family story of the unbreakable chain proving to be true after all. Mel could feel the energy had finally filled her form, even some overflowing into the room around her.

Melanie tried to steady her breathing as her mind raced with thoughts. Her head pounded and sweat dripped from her face as the world began to spin around her. She leaned against her apartment’s wall, her mind woozy and her stomach completely nauseous. Her skin was tingly to the touch and with each passing second her body felt more and more malleable. As the fervor continued to consume her, she ripped out of her clothes with caveman like grunts and stumbled to her bathroom.

“What *pant* the hell *pant* is happening *pant* to me?”

She burst through the bathroom door, her vertigo becoming even worse as the world continued to spin around her. She took a quick look into her bathroom mirror but she couldn’t see anything. Her ocean blue eyes were bloodshot but through the red blur, she could almost see a different body in her reflection. The form seemed thicker and far taller than she remembered herself being. Mel shook her head and took another second to breath, hunching over and placing her hands on her knees. Her hairless legs felt longer and her head felt a lot higher. Blaming it on the nausea, she kicked down the shower door, turned it on, and stood under the freezing cold water. She could feel the energy and vertigo from the necklace fading as the water washed it away. She let out a slight moan, a wave of relief washing over her body. Melanie had completely forgotten about the heirloom pendant clasped around her neck, still working it’s wishing magic. The black pearl began to glow as her more supernatural changes started to flow in.

Running her hands through her own hair, she could feel it begin to fall out as her shoulder length locks shortened to a boyish cut, fluffy on top and her sides cut down. Melanie felt her skin, it was sensitive with tingles rushing down her body with every touch. “God this feels so good,” she moaned as she began caressing her body, running her hands across her frame. It felt electrifying, the thermal shock between the heat and the icy stream flooded her brain as she grew increasingly more horny. She could feel a surge in masculinity, testosterone flooding her veins, involuntarily causing her to flex her thin arms. A side effect of the testosterone rush, as she flexed, body hair began to sprout ferociously across her body; in her pubic area, over her asscheeks, and even in her damp armpits. Miraculously, as she flexed her biceps, they began to expand and balloon with size, veins popping out one by one to further create her perfectly sculpted ‘ceps she had worked so hard for at the gym. She grinned, admiring her own biceps before looking down at the rest of her body. “My boobs are so fuckin’ huge bro!” Massaging her chest, she fondled her above average size tits until they began to deflate and harden. Mel bit her lip, suppressing her moans as she pinched her nipples, causing them to shrink into more sensitive male-seeming ones. As she snaked her right hand all the way down to her pussy, each row of abs she had worked for began to pop out of her torso, one by one, until her washboard 6 pack were revealed through her slowly-tanning skin. Reaching her pussy, she began to play around with her clit, causing it to start to enlarging as she unknowingly molded herself a new sex organ. Mel grasped the growing nub, tugging it further and further unconscious to the changed occurring to her own body. Rub after rub, she pulled her new cock until it grew to about 7.5 inches of length and squeezed it like an almost empty toothpaste bottle until it reached about 5 inches of girth. “God, look at this monster!” The water running down her lower body began to erode her smooth lady legs with runner’s calves and meaty thighs. Her feet enlarged into giant scuba diving flippers, growing from a size 8 in women’s to an absurd size 13 in men’s. Completely enveloped in her own heat she groped her own ass, cupping it and forming it into her ideal bubble butt, perfect for her boyfriend to eat out.

“Fuck, Brad!” she moaned as she thought of her boyfriend. All she could imagine was his thick cock coursing into her ass, violating her and making her his own. She looked up and rolled her eyes in pure ecstasy as she jerked her newly formed cock to the thought of Brad turning her into his slut. As she finally blew her full load, shooting it all against the shower’s wall, the final memories of Melanie left her mind as reality warped, the changes set to stone, and her wish came true.

Catching his breath, Maverick opened his shower door exited his steamy session. Wrapping a towel around his waist he massaged his now limp dick over the cloth. He wiped down the water vapor covered mirror and looked at himself in the reflection. “God, I’m so fucking hot bro,” he cooed cockily as he flexed his arms. Maverick could smell the manliness wafting from his rank, unwashed pits, “Whew, looks like I missed a spot, oh well.”

He touched the necklace Bradley had given him a few days ago for his birthday, it was apparently a family heirloom that had some sort of special magic imbued to it. Apparently it made the wearer’s dreams come true and Bradley joked that it was the reason his family was still rich and powerful, but of course, who believes in that bullshit.

*Knock Knock Knock*

Maverick quickly left the bathroom, still only in a towel, and walked to his front door. Through the peephole he could see Bradley, standing behind the door with his hands behind his back. With a loving smile, he opened the door for his boyfriend.

As he stepped through the apartment door, ‘Ricky peered through it to check if anyone saw Brad come inside, then closed it. Bradley whistled, “Damn baby, you look so fucking sexy. I think you should wear this more often.” Brad wrapped one hand around Maverick’s waist and pulled him closer, going in for a quick kiss. Maverick reciprocated, he could hear Brad’s heart beating a thousand miles per hour though his composure seemed to be cool.

Maverick pulled away after the smooch and whispered lustfully, “A little excited huh?”

The playboy smiled, pulling his lover in even closer so continue their kiss. Their tongues crashed with each other like waves against the sand, tasting each other with such passion as if it was their last moment together. Maverick and Bradley moaned, sharing a few ‘mhms’ and ‘nnghs’ here and there as they continued to kiss while walking towards the bedroom. Pulling away, Bradley lowered his lips and began to plant kisses along ‘Ricky’s neck before pausing at his collarbone. “Nice necklace,” Brad mentioned playfully while he traced his fingers across it’s silver chain, “I wonder who gave it to you.”

Maverick was more turned on than ever before as he rubbed his dick-print through the towel. His boner begged for release as they entered the bedroom and finally took a breather. Maverick flopped onto his bed and grinned excitedly at his boyfriend before noticing that Bradley still had something behind his back. “What are you holding babe?”

Bradley laughed as he strode over to his secret lover, “I just wanted to thank you, seriously, for being there for me through my break up, coming out to my closest friends, and like fucking everything else. I still remember when I met you all the way back in freshman year when I walked into our dorm and there you were on the other bed, lifting a weight because you said you were bored. I laughed because I knew, in that moment, you and I would become best bro’s. Through each football season and every night in the working out in the gym together, I secretly fell in love with you more and more every single day. It was so fucking hard thinking that if I confessed to you, I would lose you and my entire life could be ruined, but when I finally got the courage, you wouldn’t believe the surprise on my face when you said that you were in love with me too. Ever since then, my life has felt nothing but right. I know that we only started dating and hooking up a few months ago, but now that Melanie and I are over, I think I want everyone to know how much I love you. So ‘Ricky, do you want to be my Valentine?” Bradley pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

‘Ricky’s heart fluttered. Even through all of his hook-ups, short-lived-relationships, and one night stands, both male and female, there was no one he loved more than Bradley. In fact, it felt like they had known each other since they were kids. He took one last look at himself in his bedroom mirror, the same one he was standing at in a completely different body just an hour ago. Maverick smiled, looked back at his soulmate and sealed the spell.

“I love you too.”

My boyfriend recently told me he likes feet. I was into it at first but it feels like it’s replacing our sex now. I wish he wasn’t into my feet anymore.

A genie in baggy basketball shorts and massive, neon sneakers is sitting at your dining table with a small sweet on a plate in front of him. It’s your boyfriend’s favourite. “Make sure he eats this,” says the genie, and vanishes with a burst of foot-fetid smoke.

It’s no problem to get your boyfriend to eat the sweet. The hardest part is distracting him from getting on the floor at your feet to sit at the table and eat like a regular person. The instant the treat disappears down his throat, he jerks back as if he’s been struck. For a moment, his eyes are glazed, then he blinks. Licks his lips. Stands and excuses himself.

After a confused moment, you get up and follow him. Wasn’t he just supposed to stop being into feet? Pushing into the bedroom, you stop.

Your boyfriend has stripped out of his shirt. His torso is sweating profusely, and he’s buried his face in his own armpit! You can see the rock-hard bulge in his pants. He glances over and sees you. Not pausing in sniffing and licking at his own pit, he lifts his other arm invitingly.

The stench of his musk hits you like a physical blow. Why wouldn’t he be obsessed with his armpit? The smell has you hard and panting from ten feet away. Not bothering to undress, you bury yourself in his sweaty pit, moaning loudly as you lick up your new favourite taste.

His obsession with your feet has been replaced. Now you have something you can share!

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

I'm not a huge coffee drinker, but what the heck I'll have something. How about an americano? Nice and strong.

You can't seem to take your eyes off the hot man on the packaging. You bought the DIY Hot Coffee Americano kit from the online storefront and was pleasantly surprised by how cheap it was and how quickly it was delivered. Literally within an hour of your order there it was, in a little cardboard box with the Hot Coffee logo on it. You took the supplies out of the box, set them on your desk, and then caught sight of the hot - who is he? the owner? - guy on the pre-made - just add hot water! - Coffee base.

It's almost like you can smell him...

Or maybe it's this water?

The water that came with the pre-made mix is so warm, like it's been boiled. But when you took the top off it, the smell of sweat and musk hit you in the face. You take big deep gulps of air as you bring the water to your nose. You sigh pleasurably as your cock begins to stir in your shorts.

That's not normal.

But you find yourself dumping the water into the Coffee anyway. Stirring it around with the coffee stirrer. God the smell is intoxicating. Your cock is fully hard now and pointing straight out of your shorts, the bulge visible and making you blush. It's like the sweaty, musky water is just blanketing your head and making your center of thought right now your twitching, pulsating cock. You start humping the desk as you take your first gulp of the Coffee.

Three things startle you: one, the Coffee doesn't burn your tongue like you expect; two, it tastes absolutely delicious and makes your cock eject a droplet of pre; and three, your roommate saying, "What is that smell?"

You swivel in your chair to see him standing in the doorway, sniffing the air. You blush even harder knowing your cock is at full attention, and you can't do much of anything except make a bunch of horny sounds into the thermos you're drinking out of. Your roommate sees your cock straining your shorts. You notice it feels...bigger. Harder and more prominent.

"Oh, sorry am I interrupting something?"

You've drank half the thermos that quickly. A hot rush of pleasurable heat fills your body, landing squarely in your balls which you can feel jostle around in your scrotum. Then both balls drop and start growing, blowing up like two tennis balls and when you sneak a glance down, you can see the imprint growing on the soft fabric of your shorts. You squeeze your legs together and let out a soft moan at the sensitivity.

"I'm just so horny bro."

Bro?

Your roommate stares at your cock again as you can feel it stretch larger, like the muscles are preparing for a hard workout. It's definitely not the 5 and a half inches you're used to. Now it's creeping past 6 and a half, the swollen head glistening with pre-cum that you can feel pump out at a steady rate from those still growing balls of yours. God they feel so weighty, pushing against your thighs and making you groan and grind against your desk chair.

No you're not grinding. You're fucking the air as you drain the last dregs of your Coffee.

"Okayyyyyy. Just don't make too much noise I guess?" Your roommate laughs and is about to turn when he sniffs the air again. You're covered in sweat, soaking through the plain gray shirt you're wearing. Huge swaths of sweat darken your pits as you feel hair growing out of them, the bump of testosterone making pubes blossom like a garden, pushing out of your waistband. "Is that you?"

It is you!

"Yeah bro, smell good?"

Your voice drops as your Adam's apple expands, throat thickening and growing larger. It's got the amount of vocal fry perfect for a frat boy, deep and...dopey. Dumb sounding. And you definitely wouldn't say something like that. Definitely wouldn't lift your arms up and expose those sweaty pits to your roommate, fatter cock bouncing and growing larger and girthier. You're 7 and a half inches now, cruising to 8 full inches of man meat. So thick, the bulge so tight. You wouldn't plow your roommate and make him scream your name as loud as he could. Wouldn't dump a big load in him right?

Or would you?

What the hell is happening?

"I'm gonna - I'm gonna go." Your roommate is hard now, cock pressing against his sweatpants as he rubs himself absently. You close your eyes and groan as you feel your shoulders pop wider, broadening and putting immense strain on your shirt. In your head you're fucking a nice, tight bubble butt resting on that fat cock of yours.

You clench onto the armrests as your nipples harden against your shirt, sensitive and begging to be tugged or sucked on, the kind of special attention your chest deserves. Your big 8 inch cock flops out of your waistband and rests against your lower stomach. The stain on your underwear is unbelievable with your huge, churning bull balls and that thick tube of man meat on top. Your horniness feels so unnatural, so hot. You're so sweaty the entire front and back of your shirt is clouded with your sweat and thick with your strengthening musk that seems to be filling your entire room. Hell the entire apartment. Your cock pumps out pre at a steady rate and you can feel just how close you're getting to cumming.

And when your stomach sucks inwards and your pecs bulge out, taking advantage of those bigger broader shoulders, you lurch forward and moan lewdly in pleasure. It's loud, made even louder by your deep, bro voice. You clench your stomach and feel your waist widen with pure strength and muscle, hard, tight abs chiseling their way through the lost fat that's slid up to your chest and bulging it out. Still holding onto your stomach, you stand up on shaky legs and stagger over to your bed, shoving a pillow under your beyond hard cock as it finally rips through your underwear, the tension that was there and holding your cock back now gone. It presses freely against your shorts, the tent shoving the waistband away and giving you a full view of the base of your musky, huge cock and the bush of pubes above it.

But you immediately look away as muscle starts flowing into your pecs, perking them up and pressing them against your shirt, the hard nubs of your nipples brushing against your tight shirt. You collapse onto a pillow and start fucking it. Wrapping your arm around it and imagining one of your bros under you, getting absolutely railed by your big fat cock. You don't notice, but you can feel the pleasurable tickle of tattoos forming across your expanding forearms, the strength and blood flowing into them bloating and stretching them and making you fuck the pillow even more forcefully. You're moaning and groaning against the pillow, face buried against it in pure pleasure.

Muscle piles into your pecs, putting such strain on your shirt it tears clean down the middle, exposing your slightly hairy cleavage and the still swelling mounds of sweaty muscle mounting on your chest. They're huge and sensitive, the nipples expanding further as a little more fat from your stomach slides behind them, stretching the skin and increasing the sensitivity even more. You take your expanding, stronger hands, the palms and digits inflating into big meaty paws and rip your sweaty shirt clean off. You strip the soaked strands of your shirt off and flex your growing bicep, the muscle bulging and swelling into a bowling ball of muscle as you get your first whiff of your pit.

God I smell so fucking good.

You've managed to fuck a hole into your pillow and you drive your cock into it further and harder, licking and worshiping your expanding bicep, while your other hand goes down and explores your abs as they go into their final stages of growth and expansion. The strength of your core is undeniable as cum gutters carve their way to your throbbing cock, the etching of them making you moan and thrust your cock forward as cum drools out of your overly sensitive cock, your body riding the wave of this mini orgasm as your huge hands grab onto a nipple and tug, more muscle piling into your pecs and stretching them out and creating a real shelf of muscle on top of your abs. You bellow out loud, a deep horny moan as you continue fucking your pillow. You dimly think about your roommate as your smarts begin leaking out of your cock as well, the thick fluid going right through your shorts and into the pillow.

You hear a distant moan somewhere in the house.

Bro's probably horny as fuck too.

And why wouldn't he be? With your smell becoming a part of the apartment? With your deep moans and groans in that sexy voice of yours? What about now, the clap of your ass cheeks as you stick your ass out, totally unable to keep thrusting and surrendering to the pleasure ripping through your body, as both of your cheeks bloat and expand?

You grab one handful of a fatty, muscular cheek through your increasingly tight shorts as your ass cheeks take up whatever free space is left. You grit your teeth and howl with pleasure as your ass grows hairs that blossom out of your puckering, tight hole, and spread like a thick, musky rug across both of your fat cheeks. They fill your palm with dense, flexing muscle, enough fat to make them jiggle and bounce. A nice twerkable, fuckable ass. Your hips widen and become stronger, denser, making your now restarted thrusts harder and stronger. You press down on the pillow - god you're so strong now, the strength of those rippling biceps make you burp out more cum - as your ass stops growing, the cheeks swelling and clapping together one final time as they rip through your shorts and let your fat ass hang free in the air.

I'm so close. I'm so close.

Your feet crack and expand, the bones shifting around in the stretching skin as they expand wider and larger, thick toes ripping through the head of your socks. They feel much more sensitive now, and maybe that could just be because they're actively growing, huge meaty stompers. You cum again as your feet rip through your strained socks, huge size 13s. You look over the big curve of your bubbly ass as you see your feet for the first time, moaning loudly.

You definitely hear your roommate bro whining in the next room in pleasure. It sounds deeper than it did earlier. But...that can't be right?

The expansion of your thighs pop the few brain cells you've got left, whatever resistance you were going to try to mutter splattering into your pillow as a stronger orgasm rips through you. Cock just oozing cum as your thighs squeeze your big balls, huge thick pillars of flesh, the muscles expanding and pressing against the taut skin. Your calves grow to support not only that fat ass of yours, but that strong upper body. Those thick legs. All of which courtesy of you never skipping leg day. Your shorts are extremely tight, small tears forming around your thighs as they break the seams, becoming thick and solid. Like your ass, good to grab onto while you're fucking a bro, or while you're riding a bro with that strong core you've got.

As your hair grows blonde and styled, the big orgasm that you've been denied catches you off guard as you collapse, fat ass wobbling with the impact, as you fall flat on your pillow as your cock fires like a broken fire hydrant. You can't do much of anything but moan, so loud that the pillow is not doing anything to mute the sound as your cock fires rope after rope of thick, musky cum. Your tongue expands, fatter and longer, perfect for eating ass or sucking dick, making your bros feel every inch of your tongue on their hard cocks and in their tight asses. Your jawline sharpens. Your nose pops and expands bigger like invisible hands are pulling on it. A stubbly beard grows on your face, itchy and scraping pleasurably against your pillow as you give one, exhausted pump into the pillow to force the rest of your old self out of your still cumming cock, the steam not as strong as earlier but still enough to drip through your ruined shorts.

Out of breath, cock spent, covered in sweat, you sit up slowly on your shaky hands. A full length mirror has materialized out of your bookshelf and now you see yourself for the first time. The new you. The new sexy, frat boy you. A short king stacked with muscle everywhere. Dull, horny, lustful eyes.

You stick out your fat tongue and take a pic of your hot body, shoving your hand in your strained shorts and creating a bigger tear around your jiggly ass. You need to invest in more tight clothes. Your soft but still huge cock makes such a visible imprint you might as well be naked. You flex. Pop your pecs. Tighten up your abs. Each movement feels so good it makes your just spent cock stir again, your balls to rumble excitedly.

Your bro is quiet now.

You step out of the room and run right into him. He's a huge tank of a man, a pair of tight shorts, just like you, adorning his bloated, sweaty form. He's out of breath. His eyes are still a little sharp but there's a fogginess creeping behind them.

He looks like he's about to say something, a little dull panic creeping into his eyes.

You kiss him, roughly, pulling him in and feeling his tight, huge muscles relax into the kiss. Hands on your hips as you both makeout like horny porn stars in the doorway to your room. Your cock is hard again, and his equally large cock rips through the fabric of his tight shorts.

"You were gonna say something bro?" you ask.

His eyes dull over, horny and glassy.

"Oh yeah." A dumb laugh sounds from him, making his solid tits jiggle. "I was gonna ask who's turn it is to bottom. I'm super horny bro."

You clench your bubbly ass cheeks. An empty feeling creeps into your hole.

It's been a while since you've been filled. You give your bro boyfriend a dopey, horny smile as you kiss him again, guiding his big, meaty hand to your ass cheeks.

Then that thick finger right towards your sensitive, greedy hole.

I tried to save him, I really did! But Coach, man is he one powerful dude… Coach, and the rest of the team, even my best fr…. frien…. Bro… Ky caught on fast, and tricked the hell outta me! I thought I was being slick, sneakin’ around finding all kinds of fucked up shit, tryin’ to get Ky back, but fuuuuck! Coach caught me in his office and fuckin’ screwed me up BIG time!

Ah, no, not again… not again! I have to control this, if I can just keep my mind, I can save Kyle and myself, we can get back to our old selves… But, Kyle, he even helped them Jock me up! He played along with me, egging me on, pretending to be scared, but, they really did turn him into just a big dumb smelly brute! And now, I joined him, all because I couldn’t see through his act, and Coach has the whole team trained to catch guys like me. It had taken weeks to convince Ky… Kyle, that he isn’t Donkey, the team’s Quarterback. He’s been lumbering around school, and in town, eating up the attention, screwing his way through all the pretty girls and even some of the hotter gay dudes. You could hear him coming, then smell him, as he stomped around with his humungous dawgs, reeking up the place. He seemed to enjoy his pretty boy good looks, reveling in the attention, despite having hated guys like that before. But I finally broke him free of it, or so I thought, long enough to hatch a plan to get him back to normal.

We snuck into the locker rooms after all the players, Kyle included, finished practice. God, the humid, dank musty stench made me cough, Kyle pretended to hate it as well, as we broke into Coach’s office at the other end. I was picking the lock, when Kyle raised one of his thick legs, and kicked the door in, his cleat leaving indented prints in the door. I should have known something was up, Kyle isn’t a violent guy, but I ignored it and entered.

We snooped around the office, checking out every inch for a clue on how to turn him back, to free him of the control Coach has over him, when suddenly, as I was leaning over the desk, Ky grabbed me, crushing the air from my chest, and stuffed a slimy piece of plastic in my mouth!

I gagged, trying desperately to spit it out, but my jaw seemed to clench over it, and I found my tongue lapping at the goo all over the chewed surface. It tastes rank, like an old gym sock smells, rancid and sour, then changed to a sickly strong, bleachy flavor I immediately recognized as being cum! I tried to spit it out, tried to vomit, but my tongue lashed helplessly at it, drinking down the slime, and as it seeped down my throat, it burned, feeling as if I’d caught a sudden bout of Strep.

I could feel my body shaking as the mouth guard dissolved, my head going fuzzy, images of the team, of Ky, sweaty and aggressive after practice seemed to swim through my cotton candy filled mind. I found myself lapping at the flavors as they switched between distinct funk, and sweet, savory cum. I could suddenly tell the difference between them all. Feet, pits, jock ass, balls…. And I was enjoying it more and more, as my mind let go and sank into a twisting spiral.

Oh, no, that wasn’t my mind! That was the spiral on the computer screen Ky had sat me down in front of! Then, I head a deep, dreadful voice, Coach, congratulating Ky on his catch, and heard Ky grunting, and a sudden warm splatter on my arm told me Ky had just creamed himself. I couldn’t look, but I saw the door shut as Coach lead Ky out, and then came back for me.

I was shaking as words and images of football, chicks, muscle, sweaty guys, raunchy sex seemed to meld and twist into my head from the screen, and Coach sat there, goading me on, telling me all of the things I’d now enjoy more than anything else. Worshiping the team, being the team’s stress reliever, wanting desperately to be like them. I teared up, struggling to keep these things out of my head as they seemed to rip away at it, filling in deeply. The screen changed to plays, the field, grunting, running, working out, male, masculinity, virile aggression, the need to be a man! And I wanted it all, I was losing the fight, when in a flash, the screen went blank, and I realized the mouth guard was totally gone, dissolved down my dry, ragged throat.

“Fu…. Fuck bro….. the fuck you do to me Coach!?” I rumbled in a dim, dull sounding sexy timbre, the voice of a Jock, the kind that causes girls to cream themselves, and gay bros to bend over for you!

“Fuuuuuuuck! No!! Fuck!” I tried again and again to stop the words, I couldn’t control my own vocalizations, dumb bro speak pouring from my mouth anytime I tried to talk.

Coach went into a speech about loyalty, and how boys in this school who get caught doing anything against their star team, will find themselves joining. He was rummaging through a wardrobe on the other side of the room while he went on and on about the team, about my new position as a Tight End, making a lewd joke about how Donkey, I mean, Ky, and the team could use one, and how I’d find it difficult to say no. He came over with a few more items, while I tried to get up from the chair. I was sweating with the effort, when he grabbed my shirt and hiked I up and off me.

He grabbed a bottle of what looked like sun screen, and squirted a large blob into my chest, rubbing it in with hard, rough hands, making sure every inch was covered and shining in the oily goop. Then he went to town on my nipples, rubbing, twisting, pulling, pinching, all while he mentioned a surprise as well, as I leaked precum from the nipple stimulation into my pants. Then stopping, and rubbing a little oil into the rest of my torso, then my legs, arms, back, all the way down to my toes and up my neck. Not as much as my chest though.

Then he made me strip and tucked me into a jockstrap and cup, pair of purple shorts, a large, dirty pair of cleats, pads, but left the helmet on the rack in the wardrobe, and ordered me into the locker room, then the workout room with all of the heavy equipment. He put me through the most rigorous workout, yelling at me to work harder, lift more, run faster, pullups, sit ups, bench press, and all manner of grueling exercises. I was drenched by the end of it, feeling my pulse in my entire body, as well as realizing that the uniform I was in, was too tight. Especially in the chest and shoulders.

He finally released me, just as Donkey… I mean, Ky, uh, Kyle, came back, dripping sweat from his Bieber cut pretty boy hair, instantly filling the room with his… fucking, sexy… fuck… fuck no.. No! Not that!!! Anything but…. But…. Fuuuuuck……

I ended up licking him clean, from toes to neck, worshiping his muscles, sucking 2 thick, heavy loads from his balls After he left, I sat, sweating, my chest was now a true pair of man tits, big juicy nips perking up from the meaty pecs. I was panting as coach put some headphones in my ears, and with a sneer, told me to get ready for the surprise. He reached for my nipple, squeezed in between his fingers, and twisted, it hurt like a bitch, but I instantly moaned, my eyes going glazed as I filled my jockstrap and cup with a thick, creamy load of jock jizz. I was Tits now, the team’s sweat slurping, nipplegasming Tight End.

Written by @cinaedefuri. INCREDIBLE work, and I needed to share.

Travis McPhearson was about as normal as one could get. He was a straightlaced straight white cisgender male. But despite all of the opportunities afforded to someone like him, Travis couldn’t find a job that would cover all of his expenses. He didn’t want to go back home and live with his parents, so he put out feelers for a potential roommate. However, no one was biting, except for one guy named Colin Tavish. Colin looked like a punk, with a dyed mohawk and a bunch of facial jewelry in the headshot Travis asked each potential applicant to provide.

He also noted that he was kinky and would be bringing in BDSM gear into the apartment. He was also a bit more muscular than Travis, but he didn’t mind that Colin worked out. He was hoping to find another roommate, someone, anyone better than Colin, but there seemed to be no other options, so he accepted Colin’s offer and they were able to make the rent on the apartment this month. Colin actually didn’t need to share an apartment with anyone. Fuck, he had enough money to leave in a mansion if he wanted to, thanks to his very supportive but unfortunately very dead uncle.

No, the reason he wanted to have a roommate was because he wanted to make him into one of them, a jock punk, that is. He had the power to slowly hypnotize men into becoming just that, and someone like Travis would be an excellent target. Travis kept to himself most of the time, and whenever Colin had a “friend” over who looked like they were a bit kinky as well, he always found an excuse to leave. It was a couple weeks into their new living arrangement when Colin put his plan into action.

Travis walked into the laundry room only to find his basket of clothes was missing. “Hey, Colin, do you know where my clothes are?”

“Oh yeah, mate, sorry about that! I was gonna wash them, and silly me grabbed the bleach instead of the detergent! The washer’s fine, but all of your clothes are ruined.”

“Fuck, Colin! What the fuck am I supposed to wear to work tomorrow!”

“I think I have some dress clothes somewhere.” Travis really didn’t want to wear Colin’s clothes, but he had no other choice, considering how late at night it was. Colin actually came back with some presentable work clothes, but they reeked. There were even sweat stains in the sleeves as well, but thankfully Travis had a blazer he could wear to cover it. He cleaned it to the best of his ability and applied a bit of deodorant and some cologne before going into the office.

He could smell his funk throughout the day, but it seemed no one else could. Colin’s scents were only obvious to Travis, naturally, and as he found himself catching a whiff of it every so often, he learned that he was actually liking it! He tried to rationalize it as being a bit too horny, not having slept with someone for a few weeks now. But there was no denying that another man’s musk was turning him on. After work, he spent most of this month’s budget on new clothes so that this wouldn’t happen again.

Colin was pleased when he saw how harried Travis looked when he walked through the front door that night. His used smelly clothes were tossed in a pile by the door, and the rest of the week, Travis was wearing his new clothes that he bought. He was now actively avoiding Colin in the apartment as much as he could, not wanting to reveal that he was getting turned on by him. Unfortunately, that Friday, one of the execs asked him to woo a potential client, which meant a gym meeting for this particular guy.

Travis hadn’t thought to get new gym clothes when he went out shopping, and since money was going to be tight this month, he needed to ask Colin for some clothes, yet again. “Can I get some clean ones this time, please?” he asked, impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, let me grab some stuff from the dryer,” he replied. However, while Colin’s powers were active, washing and drying were just formalities. His gym clothes still stunk even after the best-smelling detergent was added to the wash, and Travis just needed to accept it if he were to seal the deal and bag this big client. At least it was socially acceptable to reek at the gym a little bit! The workout went surprisingly well, and the potential client did sign the deal.

However, throughout the workout, Travis kept getting whiffs of Colin’s musk. It was quite a bit stronger than the suit he had worn earlier this week, and he was slowly falling under more and more of Colin’s hypnotic control. When he arrived back at the apartment after the workout, Colin was sitting in the living room area barefoot. That wasn’t odd in the slightest, but what was odd was what Travis did next. Without thinking, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled over to Colin’s feet and began sniffing them.

Colin smiled as the hypnosis was starting to take effect, but he knew it wasn’t that strong at this point, so it wasn’t long before Travis realized what he was doing. “FUCK! What the fuck am I doing!? Colin, what the fuck are you doing to me!?”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” he replied, which was technically right, as it was his powers doing all of the heavy lifting right now. Travis wasn’t too pleased with that answer, but he certainly didn’t want to stick around and see if Colin could make him have sex with him or something worse. The damage was already done, though, and whenever Travis was doing laundry now, he couldn’t help but take deep whiffs of Colin’s clothes. The punk jock actually caught him doing that a few times, knowing that he was falling deeper and deeper under his control every time.

It was Colin who came back from the gym this time around as Travis was lounging in the living room area. He went to get up and leave the room, still wanting nothing to do with Colin, but as he sniffed the air, a different aromatic scent filled his nostrils. It was Colin’s musk directly from the source, as he had just come back from an intense workout. “Wanna sniff?” he asked Travis, and despite his better judgement, he found himself walking over to Colin and sniffing his musk directly from the source.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Travis moaned, clearly getting turned on by it and the bulge in his pants started to grow as well. However, he wasn’t completely gone yet, and before he took out his cock and began stroking it right then and there, he realized what he was doing and scurried into his bedroom, hands covering his bulge. When Colin found him the next morning with one of Colin’s dirty gym jocks on the bed with him and a recent cum stain on the pouch, he knew that he could accelerate Travis’s transformation.

He was waiting for him in the living room area when he woke up that morning, and Colin was buck naked. Travis couldn’t help but admire his roommate’s incredible body, and his sizable cock as well. “Like what you see, Travis? I know you do. You’re well on the path to becoming me, but you need to get a bit more mindfucked first. So, condom or fleshlight first?”

“Fleshlight,” Travis replied, in a trance-like state. Some of his old straight tendencies showed through, and he thought it was going to be a pocket pussy. It was instead a mold of a gay porn star’s ass, and Colin stuck his dick inside and starting rubbing the fleshlight up and down his shaft. Travis was enamored by the sight in front of him, and Colin’s musk as well, since he hadn’t showered yesterday. He didn’t waste much time at all blowing his load into the fleshlight itself.

As some of his cum leaked out of it, he handed it to Travis. “Your turn,” he said, and Travis mindlessly placed it on his cock, not giving a fuck that another guy had just used it. As the scents of Colin’s musk and cum filled the air, the hypnosis process kicked into high gear. With every stroke of the fleshlight, Travis found himself becoming more and more like Colin, a punk jock just like him. However, the fleshlight only did half the work, so when Travis eventually came inside of the fleshlight, he was well on his way to becoming a punk jock, but not completely there yet.

“Now swallow it,” Colin commanded, as Travis tipped the fleshlight downwards and their shared cum dripped into his waiting mouth. Since the hole was a bit tight, it would be quite some time before everything dripped out, so Colin grabbed the fleshlight and placed it aside as he put a condom on his cock. He normally wasn’t one to practice safe sex, but this was a special occasion. It took a bit longer to cum this time around, but he once again filled something up with his load, the end of the condom filling up with his thick and creamy seed.

Travis actually didn’t swallow it right away, and he wasn’t going to anyways. Instead, he slipped the condom over his own cock as well. It was a tight fit, as Colin had hoped, so most of the cum stayed inside. Travis’s cock was surrounded by Colin’s cum as he stroked his cock once more, getting turned on and getting turned into a punk jock with every second that passed. He too took a bit longer to cum, and by that point, it was just too much for the poor condom. It exploded all over Travis and on the couch and the floor, but its job had been done. Travis was now a punk jock like Colin in mind.

“Wasn’t that hot, babe?” Colin asked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yeah it was,” Travis replied, and reciprocated the kiss as well. The makeout session soon lead to some hot and steamy sex, and it also showed off another result of the hypnosis. Travis was usually the top when it came to having sex with women, of course, but the hypnosis had turned into a submissive bottom who was still as equally badass as his boyfriend was. After the two of them had fun that day, Colin worked to make Travis look like a punk. A special mixture of his scent and a couple others made Travis into a muscled hunk overnight.

However, his haircut needed to be done by a stylist and he had to grow out his facial hair as well. He bought the chains and other jewelry he wore, though, and the clothes that made him look like a punk jock as well. Very few people who knew him questioned all the changes he had made in the past year, as he did look genuinely happy with Colin and the two of them were even talking about marriage. They were also talking about adapting Colin’s scents in a way to make other guys into punk jocks but submissive to both men at the same time.

Ever since Ryan was gifted a pair of HIMBOCO’s newest earbuds, he has lost total control of his life. He no longer had to think or make decisions. He just had to do what they told him to do. He had to workout. He had to flex. He had to get musky. He had to fuck. He had to obey.

Drip.

Wade peered through his large glasses at the murky white-ish liquid falling from his ceiling into the bucket.

Drip

He gave a sigh of annoyance as his expensive gaming laptop whirred to life, grumbling about having to call maintenance and however much he was paying for this place.

Drip.

Wade’s nose wrinkled as a slight whiff of BO reached his nose. “Ugh” he shivered, reaching his arm up to check his pit. Dry. Huh. Wade turned back to his laptop, typing the first line of his email before—

Drip.

The sound echoed off the bare walls as the smell assaulted him again. “What the hell?” Wade turned around again and set his laptop on the desk, peering into the bucket.

Drip.

Wade gagged as another wave of that god awful BO stench hit him in the face, but then he paused, staring down at the murky off-white liquid slowly filling the bucket.

Drip.

He sniffed again, breathing a little deeper. The smell had become more intense as the bucket began to fill up and—

Drip.

His brow furrowed as he let a little more of the smell in, the bucket beginning to smell like a locker room or a runner’s pit on a hot summer day. "W-Wait" Wade stammered. How did he know what that would smell like?

Drip.

The odor made his eyes flutter slightly as he stared down at the bucket, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Drip.

“Mmmm” Wade breathed deeply, his mind blurring at the edges. It was becoming harder to think the more of the manly musk he let in. He blinked, feeling the front of his jeans tent slightly, his vision going dark…

Drip. Drip. Drip….

“Ahh! Wade shot awake. How long had he been here? His mind darted, it was dark outside now.

Drip.

His eyes peered back at the bucket, now half full, gagging again at the smell, posters now peeling off the walls, the surfaces slick with some sort of liquid.

“Agh!” Wade brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit as he raced to the door, jiggling the slick handle only to find it locked.

“W-what…” Wade started to panic as the fuzziness began to return to his mind, turning slowly to face the leak.

Drip.

Wade breathed deeply, letting the scent of a hundred sweaty jockstraps enter him, the wave of stench sending him to his knees. His vision blurred as his mouth hung open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the fumes sent a shock through his body, causing his member to tent his pants, straining against the denim.

Drip. Drip.

He moaned as he unzipped his jeans, letting his throbbing erection spring free as he shucked his shirt and jacket, throwing them across the room.

Drip.

As the stench of stale sweat washed over him, his mind melted into the puddle of musk. His eyes rolled involuntarily as his head lolled back, his dick already dripping with precum.

Compelled by some force, the nerd began to pull his pale, thin body across the floor towards the bucket, with each breath feeling like he was inhaling a locker room’s worth of ripe, cheesy musk.

His hand gripped the bucket, bringing the rim to his nose and inhaling the fumes, moaning into the rim as his body shook. His eyes fluttered again as his hand gripped his cock as he began to stroke.

It was impossible for him to think, the only thing he could feel was the smell, his mind becoming mush.

He couldn't stop his hand, his strokes speeding up as the scent of musk filled his mind, his hand moving faster and faster, the scent filling him with a primal urge, his body writhing on the floor, his mind a blurry mess as he stroked himself faster, his mind lost to the musky aroma.

Despite the small part of his brain telling me not to, Wade knew what to do, reaching out his tongue to catch one of the drops.

Drip.

Instantly, his body was wracked with heat. Wade fell back onto the floor as sweat began to pour out of his pores as if he had just finished a long, grueling game in the heat. His glasses were quickly coated in a layer of steam, making the world around him blurry.

He didn't care.

Wade continued to stroke himself, his body tensing as his hands moved faster and faster, the sensation building up in his abdomen.

Drip.

More. He needed more. More of that intoxicating smell. Wade pulled himself across the floor towards the bucket, lifting himself so his lips could lap up the sweaty droplets.

The taste was incredible.

Wade's eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as the taste of the pure, unadulterated musk exploded across his tongue. His hand pumped his cock faster and faster as he lapped at the bucket. He could barely think, the taste sending him over the edge.

Wade let out a loud moan as his body began to shake, the smell sending his body into overdrive. He could barely hear his own screams of pleasure over the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, as he started to feel his body change.

His arms were the first to feel the effects. The skinny limbs started to bulge, his muscles growing larger, thicker, and stronger. Wade could barely notice, his mind lost in the smell. His body was shaking, his back arching as his torso expanded, his stomach becoming rock hard, his pecs becoming two firm mounds, his shoulders becoming broader.

Drip.

Wade continued to moan as he felt his chest grow heavier, his pecs growing into large, round melons. He could barely think, the sensation was so overwhelming. He couldn't stop stroking, his cock continuing to grow, his balls becoming two large, swollen orbs. His hair was plastered to his head, the sweat dripping from his body.

He could feel his body changing, his muscles growing, his ass becoming rounder, his hips becoming wider. His cock continued to grow, his balls becoming larger and larger, until they were obscene and drooping.

Drip.

Wade was a sweaty, writhing mass on the floor, his body shaking, his cock leaking precum. His hair was plastered to his face, growing longer and unkempt as the sweat poured down his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, his tongue lolling out.

Drip.

Wade groaned and whimpered as more drops began to fall from the ceiling, landing on his chest and causing his muscles to clench, his back arching. The sweat dripped down his face, his neck, his chest, his back, his arms, his legs, his feet, his toes, his fingers.

Drip.

Every drop caused his muscles to spasm, his body convulsing, his cock leaking more precum. His pecs were so large, he could barely see over them. His ass was so round, he couldn't even sit properly.

Drip.

His entire body was covered in sweat, his entire body dripping with it. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock twitching.

Drip.

He moaned and whimpered as his face cracked and changed, becoming model-like, his glasses breaking and falling to the floor.

Drip.

He groaned, the scent sending his mind into overdrive, his body twitching and convulsing. His muscles were so large, they were bursting through his clothes.

Drip.

Every muscle in his body was on fire, his body drenched in sweat. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by the scent.

Drip.

He gasped as he felt his mind go blank, his body shaking as he came. His orgasm was so powerful, his balls contracted, forcing the cum to spurt out of his cock. The force was so great, the stream of cum flew through the air, covering the room.

Drip.

"Ah!" Wade gasped as the drops fell onto his skin, sending waves of pleasure through his body, his cock spraying his seed all over the room.

Drip.

The drops kept falling, causing Wade's orgasm to continue, his body shaking. He could barely think, his mind was swimming as all paths of higher thought were permanently wiped away, replaced by an unending desire to bury himself in the pits and crotches of sweaty men. His hair grew out, becoming blonde and shaggy, signifying his permanent change.

Drip.

It was not for hours that he finally left the house; but the Wade who walked in would never return.

Horizons

It was some fuck shit, man. Hiding behind a dumpster, pantin' through my balaclava... I can't believe that little shit ratted on me to the fuckin' cops. Picture this. I'm in that fucker's car, a beautiful Aston Martin, just about done hotwiring it. I was literally three fuckin' seconds away from getting the hell out of there, with a sick new ride. But no, that stupid fuckin' rat let me in the gate, watched me hop in the car, and then called the fuzz. Thought he'd be able to just pocket the two grand I paid him off with, but believe me. Karma is a bitch.

So by the time I had the car ready to go, I hear the fuckin' pigs squealin' at me. The whole nine yards, man. Guns drawn, "put your hands up," blah blah blah. Fuck that shit. I took the fuck off, hoppin' over the fence and just cutting through people's backyards. Man, they had a whole perimeter set up. Cops on every major street corner, watchin for my big bird lookin' ass decked out in black. On a side note, I looked hot as fuck by the way. Not gonna lie, the kicks were fresh as fuck. But either way, there was no way I was gonna get back to the docks without being seen. So I had to fall back onto plan B.

I snuck through alleys, hid behind trashcans and corners, but I knew my trashy ass apartment was just around the corner. Plus, if that little fucker told them who I was, they'd be looking for Thiago Zapata at his place, right? Only thing is, I wasn't gonna go to my place. I moved into the building like three months ago, so I got to know the neighbors pretty alright. The old lady across the hall, the streetracer to the left, and to the right were Chase & Aidan. Two little cocksuckers. Aidan was alright, built like a fuckin' blonde twig but always real happy and nice. He was cool, but his man was another story. Chase was one of those little trust fund bitches, thinkin' they own everything, thinkin' you should be thankful to just be around them... I made all my money snatchin' shit from fuckers just like him. Always lookin' me up and down, questioning my swag, complaining about the smoke, complaining about the music; bro, he literally came up and was like "Do you bathe? I can smell you from next door." Fuckin' bitch ass. I decided then and there, if a plan should ever go wrong, I now had a plan B.

So as I bolted across the street, hiding stiff as a board behind a tree, I finally made it to the shithole that was my building. No cops outside yet, but from the sirens I knew they were on the fuckin' way. I checked my phone, seein' the time was just before 10 PM. The universe was on my side that night man, I guess it was as fuckin' fed up with Chase as I was. I got upstairs and hid in the janitor's closet right between my door and theirs, and I waited. I knew he always came home late from whatever the fuck he did every Saturday night, and that Aidan would be sitting there waiting for him like a lil' puppy. I almost felt bad for the guy. Not knowing what it's like to stick your dick in some good fuckin' pussy, and then for the guy you give it up for to be such a piece of shit. I'm doing him a favor, bro.

I heard the footsteps comin' up the stairs, so I opened the door just a crack, in case it was the fuckin' pigs about to break into my place. But no, there he was in that whack ass outfit, lookin' like he lived at Abercrombie & Fitch, struttin' down the hall probably drunk as shit. I waited for him to get close to the closet, and just as he stumbled right in front of the door, I got him. Left hand around the mouth, right arm around the neck. He thought he could wriggle out of the whole thing, but man was it easy to drag the little fucker into my apartment and lock the door. He could barely stand up, sniveling like the little weasel he was, but when I took off my mask his face turned from fear to rage.

"I knew it. I knew this is the kind of street trash you are. Is that why the cops are circling the block every five seconds?" I didn't say shit. I just kicked off my J's, and tossed my bag onto the floor. "See, this is why we need border control, so thugs like you can get shipped back to Mexico. Fucking fence jumper." I stripped my hoodie, wouldn't need it for what I was about to do.

"Bruh, you know I'm from fuckin' Colombia. You know that. Racist little pendejo." That little shit scoffed at me. Rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone. Man, I smacked that shit out his hands real fuckin' quick. "Be a good little cumdump and shut the fuck up. Turn around, bitch!" I spun him around and pushed his bitch ass against the wall, but before I could do what I needed to, that little fucker spat on my face.

"Hope you like Guantanamo, amigo." I was like, nah, fuck this shit. I'm not takin' that from a 5'9 rich, racist gringo. He was gonna be tight as fuck, but I've been in tighter squeezes. I got his pants by the belt loop, and yanked 'em down. He wriggled his ass in my face, as if he was gonna get lucky tonight. Heh, I guess he did. Just like I did back in New Orleans, I squatted down, put my hands together, and in I went with a wet squelch. "What the fuck?!"

I looked at his stretched hole, swallowing my arms up to my fuckin' elbows. I couldn't help but smile as I started to wriggle up into him. His bitchin' quickly turned into moanin', as my arms squeezed up in him, and my head started to sink into the hole. I slithered up inside him, my shoulders, my lats... it got easier as we got down to my waist, enough for my hands to feel inside of his shoulders. I pushed 'em down, my thick arms stretching his skin as I slipped his hands on like gloves. Feelin' the cold drywall beneath his fingers, the sweat pouring from his pores... they were mine now. So as much as I wanted this little fuck to suffer, I was feelin' generous that night. My arms were already in his, so it was easy to just hold the top of his curly haired head and thrust mine up his throat. I could hear his gurgles as he tried to moan in pleasure, but within a couple of seconds, I felt the top of my head pressin' against the roof of his mouth. One more little push, and it gave way. My head slipped into his in the blink of an eye.

I used his hands to tug on his face, makin' sure everything was sittin' where it needed to sit. Didn't wanna be lookin' like the bug guy from Men in Black, you know what I'm sayin'? Took a minute, had to shove my tongue into his, make sure my eyes lined up, get my ears inside his; feelin' my hoops rip through his skin, I opened my new mouth and breathed in. Man, I had to smile, lickin' his lips and lookin' down. Fuck I'm glad his arms stretched enough for mine, the lil' cocksucker needed a bit of meat on him. My pecs filled out his skinny lil' chest, my ink already seepin' up to the surface of his skin. But at that point he looked like a puppet, man. I'm up in the top half, but my ass and legs are stickin' out his hole.

I flexed my abs, feelin my fat ass squeezin' in, my cock and balls slurpin' in... Bro, his twiggy little butt got big real fuckin' quick when my cheeks inflated into his. My thighs and calves quickly slipped in, only leavin' my big ass feet stickin' out his ass. I smirked with his cocky lil face.

"Aww. I forgot to bathe, bro. My bad." Shit, his voice sounded good on me. Can't imagine he'd be into the feet he complained about stinkin' so fuckin' much squeezin' into his tight lil' body. Not that he was gonna be complainin' anymore, anyway. They were a bit sweaty, so all I had to do was jerk my knees up a bit and in they went. I pushed my legs down into his, watchin' with a big ass smile on my face as I saw my feet beneath his the skin of his tiny lil' legs slippin' down. My toes reached the base of his heel, and just like puttin' on a pair of sneaks, I shoved those big ass puppies up into his. His feet were all wriggly and warpy as they stretched out, but quickly those lil size 8's were my size 13's, ripe stink and all.

I stood up straight, watching as his lower body stretched upward, going from 5'9 to 6'3 as my quads and calves filled his to the fuckin' brim. Man, it was like puttin' on skinny jeans. I don't fuck with that shit, but here we are. The tightest pair of pants ever. I looked at his groin, all fucked up and not aligned. I smirked, my favorite part. I grabbed his cock, pulling it out as far as it would stretch, farther than it should stretch; just enough for me to push my cockhead to the base of his shaft. Bruh, when I tell you it's like slippin' your babymaker into a fleshlight, I fuckin' mean it. I got hard right then and there, bro. As my big meaty cock pushed into his, it got thicker as it went further, slurpin' into the little cocksleeve it was, until my musky 9 incher had completely filled his. Tuggin' a bit more on his dick skin to gimme my foreskin back. One final snap of the skin, and a bit of ball shufflin' and I was fuckin' in.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* "Police, open up!" I turned, smirkin'. Too late, porkers. I picked up my black hoodie, slippin' it on over his torso, pulled on some sweatpants and slipped my big puppies back into my J's. I walked over to the door, and swung it wide with a grin on my face. Two cops were outside, starin' me down with confusion. "Uh, good evening, sir. Is this Thiago Zapata's domicile?" I pretended to be all confused, cockin' my head a bit.

"Uh, yeah, man. I'm watchin' it while he's gone. He said he was gonna be in Cartagena for a couple of weeks or whatever. I'm the neighbor." The dumbasses just nodded, scribblin' in their dumb lil' notepads.

"And what's your name, sir? First and last, please." Not a moment too soon, I felt his memories start to slink into my head. I smirked.

"Chase Hightower. I live with my boyfriend in 2C, next door." They wasted like fifteen more minutes gettin' all up in my business, askin' all their questions... I just smiled and nodded, using Chase's memories to give them all the answers they were looking for. Finally they gave up trying to get in, sayin' they were gonna get a warrant or whatever. "That's totally fine, bro. I'll be next door whenever it comes through. Oh, and I just gotta say, Thiago's a good dude. Real nice guy, fine as fuck too. Gotta be some kind of mistake." I had to throw that in, this little shit would be tellin' them all sorts of fake shit about me, none of it good. But as they stomped off, I closed the door and threw my fist up in the air. "FUCK YEAH! NICE TRY MOTHERFUCKERS!" I collapsed onto my couch, takin' a breather before his most recent memories started to get clearer. Aidan was sitting next door, waiting for him to show up.

I had to keep up appearances, after all. So I just grabbed a couple of my things: clothes n' shit, all my kicks, my weed and papers, some cash, and a couple of condoms. Chase was a good lookin' kid before, but with me in there, I'm gonna have girls slobberin' all over this dick! Hah! I got it all in a couple of bags, picked up his phone I'd swatted to the ground, and headed over to Chase's apartment. I opened the door and the place was fuckin' immaculate man. Clean, fancy furniture, smellin' like Febreeze... Damn, we'll see how long this takes to fuck up.

"CHASE!" I turned, seeing Aidan with his arms crossed, tappin' his foot on the kitchen floor. He was fuckin' pissed. "Where in the fuck have you been? There's cops everywhere!" The cops may not have known Chase, but Aidan sure as fuck did. I had to really use his memories to play it off, but man, I'm always slippin' through the mask.

"Ahh, babe. It's my bad. Got stuck in traffic or... whatever. I'm so..." A memory surfaced then and there. The memory of why Chase was so late that night, of why he came home late every fuckin' Saturday night. It was fuzzy at first, but as it got clearer, I saw him fuckin' some dude raw across town. Every weekend, steppin' out on this poor kid, just to dump his load into some lil twink and come home to pretend nothin' was wrong. Fuck, this guy was shit. "I'm... sorry. Won't happen again, babe. I promise you that."

Right off the bat, I knew he saw something was wrong. I don't know if it was delayed reaction, or if he was just so fuckin' pissed he didn't see it at first... But he definitely saw it then. His boy wasn't over 6'0 before. His boy wasn't dressin' in black hoodies and Jordans. His boy wasn't stacked from hours every day at the gym. But now... he was.

"You look off. What have you been doing? Are you on steroids?" I kept searching through Chase's memories to find something to use to diffuse a very pissed off Aidan. Eventually, I found it. I smirked, leaning my arm against the wall and crossing my ankles.

"What, babe? You liking what you're seein'? You been askin' for me to play bad boy for months now, well tonight's your night, bro." His demeanor immediately shifted from rage to nervousness. "Yeah, just like Thiago next door, right? You love it when he gets home all sweaty and jacked, smellin' like a locker room. You like it when you hear him poundin' babes all night long on the other side of the wall. You wanted him to step on your face and make you lick his feet and suck his big smelly cock..." I groped my bulge through the sweats, watching as his eyes went down to my throbbin' package. The kid was sweet, man he had a thing for me. Little did he know he had the real deal in front of him.

"I... Why now? You said he was dirty and disgusting and you'd never be like him..." I grinned, pushin' off the wall to strut over to him. He leaned against the counter as I put my arms on either side of him, pushing my new body right up against his. I could feel his lil' cock throbbin' against mine. It was... I don't know, man, it was cute the way he was blushin' lookin' at me.

"Yeah, maybe I like dirty and nasty, now. 'Cuz I know you like dirty and nasty..." I put my hand on his bulge, squeezing rough. He moaned, lettin' out a soft whimper. "Yeah, babe. How's bout you let Thiago take care of you tonight, babe. Go to the bedroom and strip for me." He sat there for a second, I guess he was thinkin' or whatever, but it didn't take long for a smile to show up and for him to run into the bedroom. I couldn't help but laugh, bro. It was so cute. There's somethin' so feminine about the guy, kinda reminds me of my ex. I guess guys could be femme too, maybe I could get with that. Fuck, why not. I was like, I'm gonna be in here for a long time, might as well get some tail in while I'm here.

I walked into the bathroom, pullin' off my sweatshirt and lookin' into the mirror for the first time. The chest ink is all done, his skin forever gonna be branded with my tatts. I pull out his phone, typing in my bro's number with the crew. I snap a pic of my sweaty, sexy new gringo bod, and send it to him.

"Layin' low for a minute, O. Pigs got me all fucked up. Still down for jobs, tho." I smirked, pressin' send, and walkin' out into the dark bedroom. Aidan was bare-ass naked, his legs up in the air and a surprisingly juicy lil' ass beggin for this dick. His hole puckered as he whimpered for it. Man, somethin' snapped in me that night, bro. It just looked so fuckin' nice... such a perfect, tight lil cum dump... and he was literally beggin' for it. I growled as I pushed my sweats to the ground, my briefs fallin' with them. Struttin' over to him, my J's squeakin' on the wood floors, I'm just ready to stick that drippin' musky rod inside him before he chirps up.

"Wait..." I look down at him, leaning over the top of him with a wolfish grin. "Can we... can we do the thing..." I knew exactly what he was talkin' about. Chase was such a fuckin' prude he'd never do it for the kid, but with me in the driver's seat, this thirsty lil guy was gonna get a whole new side of his man. I grinned as I pulled off one of my Jordans, holding it just below my face to take a quick sniff. Man, I'd been runnin' in these all night, liftin' in these every day, it stank of my ripe ass feet, and he'd been dreamin' of that funk ever since I moved in.

I slammed the sneaker down over his nose, spitting on my pre-slicked cock before thrusting my length into his puckering hole. I fucked that kid hard, just like I'd fucked Lizzie, Aisha, Carmen, & Mina. He moaned and sniffed over and over again as I slipped in and out of his hole. Aidan was a thirsty lil twink, he wanted a hard masculine guy to fuck him like a toy, and Chase just wasn't up for the fuckin' job. But man, feelin' my slimy dick ramming into his tight ass was like fuckin' the tightest pussy I've ever had. He was better than the last two weeks of girls combined. His hand took over holding the sneaker on his face, lettin' me grab ahold of his lil' dick and pump. I guess my sweaty hands were doin' it for him, as his moans got louder. He started thrustin' into my palms as I fucked him silly.

"Yeah, babe. You been wantin' Thiago's smelly dick all up inside you haven't you?" *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* "Ahh fuck yeah, babe. Let me take care of you, babe." *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* I felt my balls start to quake, feelin' my knees get all wobbly... It was comin' "Fuck yeah, you want this load inside you, baby?" He whimpered nose deep in my sneaker, I could hear him groaning a quiet 'mmmmhmmmm'. That's all I ever need to hear, baby. I only ever need a yes.

"AaaaaaaaAGH!" I felt my balls jolt, and my load went bursting into him. Once, Twice, Three times, Four times, Five times... just wave after wave of my splooge just rushin' into that twink ass. Fuck! I hadn't cum like that before. Ever! Dribblin' off at 7 shots of my batter deep into him, and he shot his own lil load onto my hand. I kept strokin, grinning from ear to ear hearin' his whiny ass gettin' all 'ahhhhhhh' and 'oooooooooooo'... Hah! Damn, the kid was a natural. I pulled my snake out of him, my load drippin' out of his gaping hole.

I fell onto the bed next to him, panting and sighing. I turned my head, laughin' seein my sneaker still sittin' upside down on his face. Pulling it off, I got to see his smiling face, glistening with sweat. For my first time with a dude, Aidan gave a lot of girls a run for their money. He turned to me, chuckling under his panting breath. Wantin' to give him a bit of a show, I brought the Jordan to my nose, takin' a quick whiff and sighing in satisfaction. Ripe n' funky, but if it does it for ya, you can get as much as you want. Dropping it on the floor, I could tell he was still shocked.

"What happened to you?" He smiled and laughed, and I felt myself grinning from his happy little laughs.

"I'm a new man for you, babe. I can stick around if you want?" I winked at him, and he smiled; nodding and cuddlin' up against my sweaty muscles. I hadn't done what they call 'aftercare' before, but I learned a lot that night. Aidan likes to be all snuggled up, sweet and complimentary, talkin' about his day and what he was thinking and feeling... It was different, and honestly kinda nice. Maybe this wouldn't be as much of a fuckin' drag as I thought it would be. I turned to the nightstand, seein' my phone light up and vibrate. Omarion.

I picked it up as he started to nod off, seein' that my bro had texted back. Opening the text, it was just a location and a time. I knew what that meant. Tomorrow night, meetin' up at the docks. I nodded and put the phone onto the charger, and started gettin' to puttin' my stuff into my new closet.

---

I woke up the next morning, the smell of cum still hangin' in the air. I stretched and sighed, winkin' at myself in the mirror before hoppin up to my feet. I went into the living room, seein' the balcony door open. I smiled, seein' a memory of Aidan drinkin' his coffee out there on the couch. So, I went and got him a glass of his cold brew, and walked out there, seein' him quietly reading a book. I looked at him and immediately saw he was decked out in my threads: my tank, my jeans, my chucks, my chains... and honestly it looked good on him.

"What you doin' out here without your coffee?" He looked up from his book, and smiled.

"You never bring me my coffee! Thanks, Chase!" I grinned hearing that name, handing him his cold brew and plopping down on the seat across from him. He sipped it, tossing it back like a bachelorette downing tequila shots. He smacked his lips and hummed, but looked up at me with a weird look. "Last night was hot as fuck."

"Yeah, baby. It was hot. You got real into it, bro." He raised his eyebrow a bit, putting his drink down on the balcony ledge.

"What happened to you? You never answered me last night. What's changed?" He waved his hand up and down, pointin' at my chest, my arms, my abs, my feet, my height... "You did not look like this yesterday morning." I sat there for a second, thinkin' about what the fuck I was gonna say. I couldn't tell him, of course. But I needed a better answer than 'oh, I'm using your boyfriend's body as a disguise to hide from the cops.'

"I can tell you if you really wanna know, babe. Or, I could just show you. But, gimme a day or so." He looked at me for what seemed like a long ass time, but in the end, he smiled and nodded.

"Tomorrow morning, Chase. One day to explain." Bullet dodged. For now, at least. I now had a day to figure out what to do. The guy was like, a genuinely good dude. I'm not gonna fuck the kid over, or slip out of his boyfriend to show him he got his wish havin' the Colombian Neighbor fuck him. "Anyway, it's Sunday. And I got you for the whole day." He grinned, rubbing his hand on my thigh.

For the next ten hours, it was like hanging out with one of my bros. Playin' video games, cookin' food, I even got the little guy to take a rip from the bong. He was hackin' up a lung, and I laughed my ass off, but fuck is Aidan a good dude to kick back with. I was really starting to dig him; the vibes were on point, he's funny as fuck, interested in cool things... The more time I spent with him, the more I really liked the guy. If anything, it made me that much more fuckin' pissed that a racist little fuck like Chase was steppin' out on him behind his back. This is the kind of dude you have at home, and you're puttin' your dick in someone else? Like, far be it for me to have much to say about serial fuckin', but Aidan didn't deserve that. At all.

I decided then and there, as long as I was pilotin' Chase, he was gonna be the man that Aidan had always wanted, and the man he deserved. It wasn't even gonna be that hard, man. Just bein' myself, the vibes were electric. Maybe I'm not as straight as I thought. Laughin', puttin' my arm around him as he played Legend of Zelda or whatever, I don't know it just felt right. So by the time the sun went down, it felt like it had only been twenty minutes. I looked up at the clock on the oven, seein' it sayin' that it was almost 9 PM.

"Hey, babe. I'm gonna run to the store, you want me to get you anything?" He barely looked up from the game, just turnin' his head a little bit.

"Ice cream. Pistachio. Love you." I laughed, ruffling his blonde locks before hoppin' up, and slippin' my J's back on. I made sure his eyes were plastered on the screen before slipping heat into my pants, and headed toward the door.

"Be right back, bro." He just waved behind him, not so much as glancin' at me. I snickered, and felt the butterflies in my stomach flutterin' around. Fuck, I was gettin' in deep. I opened the door, and made my way out into the hall. The police had tape all around my old apartment, doin' all their searches and fingerprintin'. Fuckin' fools. I turned and walked down the steps, grinning from ear to ear.

---

The docks were empty at that time of night, no one's around past 8. So walking straight up to warehouse 7 was a breeze. I reached in through the broken glass on the door, turning the knob from the inside and walkin' in. The blue lights were barely lighting anything, but in the far side of the empty room, I saw my boy smokin' his blunt. Still decked out in his diamonds and gold.

"Bruh, I gotta tell you. I ain't been a gay before, but this shit ain't too bad!" He looked up at me, nearly bursting into laughter at the gringo struttin' up in my clothes.

"Fuck, bro! Now I know that ain't Thiago up in that white boy." I smirked, bowing like the drama queen Chase used to be before slappin' Omarion on the shoulder.

"The one and only, bro. Pretty wild, right?" He laughed, passing me the blunt. I took a quick hit, lettin' out the rings I'm known for in our crew. That seemed to set his questions at ease.

"Motherfucker that is you! I'm out here dodgin' feds and pigs right and left, and you're over there squeezin' into fags." That word hit differently now, I felt my smile fade the moment it left his lips.

"Yeah, man. Snatched this little racist homewrecker in the hall. His boyfriends pretty tight, though."

"Him or his hole?" Omarion started to laugh, and I couldn't stop myself from shoving him against the wall. I'd caught him off guard, puttin' my arm against his neck.

"Don't be talkin' about him like that. Aidan's alright. Got it?" Omarion snickered, and then burst out laughing.

"Bruh, you in deep with this. Aight, aight! I ain't got nothin' against the gays, man. You know that." I let him off the wall, steppin back before taking another hit off the blunt. "So..." He awkwardly muttered. "Got a little hidey-hole for me?"

I turned to him, lettin' out a cloud of smoke in his face. No way I was gonna put up Aidan as his personal safe house. But thinking about it for just a second, a smirk crawled across my face. Perhaps that little shit Chase had been fuckin' on the side may come in handy after all.

Biker Breath

Zane was riding home from work on his bicycle when he passed a pile of stuff sitting on the curb with a sign attached saying “For Free”. Zane stopped to inspect what all was left out on the street and saw a super nice looking biker helmet, carefully picking it up he noticed some scratches and dings on the helmet but besides that it was still in perfect working condition. While he was examining it Zane noticed the rancid scent emanating out of the helmet. Holding his nose, Zane began to put the helmet back onto the curb when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his, it was a deeper, more masculine voice demanding him to put the helmet on. Wanting to resist, Zane set the helmet down and turned his back to it and the other stuff on the curb when the voice again demanded “Put on the helmet”, Zane was overcome with the need to put the helmet on. As he lifted the helmet up over his head Zane pleaded with the voice “Please…No…It reeks”. Feeling the voice command him to lower the helmet on his head, Zane’s mind and body obediently obeyed as he lost control of both. Upon lowering the helmet onto his head Zane could smell the reeking stench of the helmet. It reeked of sweat and B.O., the previous owner had obviously never even attempted to clean it.

Regaining consciousness and control of his body, Zane tried to take the helmet off, but quickly he heard the voice command “Breath in deep wimp” Zane once again obediently followed orders and took in a deep whiff of the helmet’s noxious stench. Zane would have normally been disgusted but he wasn’t, in fact he loved the rancid stench of sweat trapped in the helmet. Zane heard another command echo through his head, “Get on your puny bike loser”. Zane sat on his metal bicycle and began to pedal away. With every pedal, he bike became more akin to what a real man would ride. It slowly transformed into a fast and slick motorcycle.

Zane revved the bike instinctually and he felt his dick shoot to life at the same time, it was weird, Zane never was interested in motorcycles but his body was aching for more. Zane’s puny body was sitting atop a nice expensive motorcycle now but his body and face were still that of a wimpy nerd. That was soon to change, the voice started describing what a biker boy should be like. “Biker boys are unhygienic beasts who never wear deodorant, shower once a week, and never brush their teeth, all of that is for weak pussies” Zane could suddenly remember why the helmet smelled so bad, it was HIS stench that was infused into the helmet. Zane breathed in another deep whiff of the stink HE cultivated and let out a pleasurable sigh, breathing out a torrent of funky smelling breath, Zane added to the stench and made himself more loopy. Feeling his weak body get light and tingly Zane kept riding his newly minted motorcycle, he stopped at a red light and looked over at the car next to him, “Had I always had such big muscles?” Zane thought to himself as he saw his reflection in the car’s window. “No…can’t be I…” he took a breath in and inhaled more of his noxious B.O. and bad breath, “…I have always been this buff duhhh” Zane pulled off and sped home away from the stop light. Arriving home his brother was getting out of his car in the driveway, pulling up was surprised when he saw the man on the motorcycle, he looked like a stranger to him. “Hey man I think you got the wrong address” Zane’s brother told the now insanely ripped Zane, “Whatchu mean bro this my crashpad!” Zane said loudly. “Nah my brother lives here with me and my dad not you” Zanes brother remarked. Zane got off his bike and walked up to his little bro, “Heeeeeeeeeeey man chillax…no need to get your pantiessssss in a bunch” Zane drew out certain syllables on words so that he could breathe out his nasty breath that smelled like he had just eaten garlic, and fish, and hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Zane’s brother’s eyes glazed over upon smelling his older brother’s stale and stinky breath, “Oh hey bro welcome home” Zane reached an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they walked to the house together. “Yeaaaaaaahhh you love your big bro’s stinking breath dont cha lil man” Zane laughed and purposely let out a blast of his funky breath into his brother’s face, “Yea…bro I- I love how…stinky…your breath i- is…I wish I was m-more like you”His brother said mindlessly as if in a trance. “Well in that case lil bro I wanna take you on a ride tonight okay? You can wear my helmet I jusssssst got it” Zane breathed out more of his rank breath while he spoke. “Yea…uhh like…totally bro…” His lil bro responded not knowing that the ride would seal his fate just how his brother’s was.

I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

Hi. I saw that you were happy to transform some guys. I wouldn't mind getting the ol' Hunkification treatment. Need a change in my life.

snap

Come here bro. Have a sit down. Let me take care of you. Take off your shirt, that’s it. And your pants too. Skinny jeans? Forget those. Gym shorts will be more your style.

Now, where to start. Hair? It’s all over you. Your chest, legs, face and arms. It’s not crazy unkempt, but you have a satisfying amount. Let’s make it a reddish-brown tint. You’re not a redhead, per say. But in the right light you can see it.

A nice hairy chest like yours needs pecs to go with it. Guys are gonna love curling their fingers around that fur of yours! They’ll follow it down your six pack stomach and into your hairy groin and dick. Glorious.

Let’s pump up your arms too. You spend a lot of time working on your chest, shoulders and arms. It’s paying off big time.

Just got the finishing touches … I’m thinking stink? A hairy guy like you needs sweat and musk to go with it. Have a whiff of those hairy pits of yours. Smells good, right?

Locker 054

Michael was excited to be picking up a new hobby, he was going to start going to the gym, he was always a pretty skinny guy but he was looking to put on some muscle. Entering the gym for the first time Michael spoke to the guy running the front desk, he got a membership set up for himself and was pointed in the direction of the locker room. Entering the locker room for the first time, Michael was met with a musty smell lingering in the place. Of course Michael wasn't expecting it to smell like a perfume counter so he didn’t pay too much mind to the smell, but as he entered deeper into the locker room the smell got more and more intense. He had passed by a tall gym bro who had dumbly told him “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.”

Michael had decided to find locker 054 and when he got to it he set his stuff down on the bench while he opened it up. Upon opening it he was met with an obviously worn tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants sitting at the bottom of his locker, and on top sat a pair of ripe gym socks. Gagging and turning away Michael was disgusted from the ripe scent pouring off of the clothes and out of the locker. It reeked so horribly that Michael grabbed his stuff and started to walk away when he suddenly thought to himself “Why am I leaving my locker wide open…? Im such a dummy” turning back around he made his way back to the toxic smelling locker. Setting his stuff back down Michael began to get changed, picking up the stinking socks he slipped one foot in and then the other. Feeling the wet feel of the sweat soaked socks would have typically disgusted Michael but now he felt as if this was natural for him. He could smell the newly acquired putrescent stink flowing out of his feet. Taking a deep whiff he felt his head get lighter, and for some reason being here in the gym, in the locker room, at this locker, it all felt so routine.

He proceeded to grab the sweat pants and pull them up above waist, his crotch immediately released the stench of his dried cum and ball sweat wafting towards his nose. It was odd to Michael that he could smell it given that he had showered right before he came to the gym, he shouldn't reek already. Checking if it really was coming from him Michael did something that he would never have done normally, he scratched his balls with his right hand and brought his fingers up to his nose, taking a big whiff he audibly went “Huhuhuhu…so stinky”.

Going back to putting the gym clothes on after his sniff check, Michael put his arm through one arm hole and then the other arm through the other of the white tank top. Now completely on Michael once again smelled a new nasty scent radiating off of him, sticking the same hand he had used to scratch his balls underneath his armpit he left it tucked there for a few seconds. Pulling it out he once again brought his hand to his nose and took a deep whiff. Letting the smell of his wet, tainted, armpit flood his nose sealed his fate. His body began to inflate as his arms grew more muscular, his legs grew sturdier, his feet grew bigger. He let out a deep dump giggle and picked up a can of AXE body spray from his bag. Spraying a spritz on each pit he gave them a sniff to check, to him they now smelled fresh as a daisy, but to anyone else they completely reeked of strong B.O. and cheap AXE. Looking in the mirror Michael saw a hot gymnast reeking of pheromones. Proud of his muscles and progress over the past few years coming to the gym he flexed in the mirror, lifting his arms to do so let out his festering pit stench directly from the source.

After practicing his gymnastics routine for an hour or so he returned to the locker room. Michael got changed back into his everyday clothes that were now too small and straining at the seams. He took the pile of damp gym clothes and set them back in the locker. Adorning his filthy pile with his even smellier socks on top, he leaned in and took a deep sniff of the stinky pile, eyes rolling back in his head from pleasure he knew had had a good workout based off of the stink he and his clothes let off. Closing the locker and leaving it unlocked he had begun to walk to the door when he passed by a lean guy walking into the locker room. “Broooo, locker 054 is unlocked if you wanna use it.” Michael disclosed with his usual idiotic tone.

Hey man I don’t know what is happening to me and my best friends. We been working on a science project for our chemistry class at college but something has went very wrong. We accidentally. Got some of the chemicals on us and now we feel very weird and our clothes fell tighter then normal plus I feel to have a closer relationship to my best friend of 15 years bro. So bro I need your help…… help to stop what hap….. uhuhuhuh…. happening to us BRO!

The sirens were activated. The lights flickered, and the colour changed from its usual white to red. The liquid in the test tube you were holding started to give off a thick smoke. The room was quickly filled with vapor, blocking your view.  You and your best friend panicked, screaming in fear. With a jerking motion out of fear, you spilt your test tube on the lab coats of you and your friend. In  panic, the two of you evacuated the laboratory.

You and your best friend has become flatmates when you discovered you were attending the same university. You both were doing a major in chemistry. You were two very bright students who spent most of their time studying and playing TRPGs. You had never been in a gym, and you did not really connect with people who did fitness as a hobby. However, the two of you had both grown jealous of the big burly men who roamed the campus. You combined your knowledge to find a shortcut to a better body. A shortcut to a better life.

Today was a crazy day. You and your best friend, who had been roommates for a year now, arrived home. The weird liquid had stained both of your coats. It had eroded through it, and dyed your skin. You took turns trying to wash it off. But nothing seemed to work. Your friend had been sweating since he got home. His damp clothes did not help masking the strong musky smell. You told him to shower and to go to bed. You planned to shower tomorrow.

The next morning you felt extremely tired. You stretched your arms, which seemed to be harder than usual. It seemed like your body was struggling because of, well, itself! You looked at your arms. They definitely seemed bigger than usual. A thick layer of hair covered your lower arm, as thick muscles adorned your upper arm. You looked down, to be met with two mounts of flesh that weren’t there before. Your chest was covered with a dark pelt of fur. The hair went from your chest all the way to your feet. You touched your new body, feeling the coarse hairs. You touched your belly, feeling a layer of chub on your frame. You were by no means fat, but you weren’t shredded either. Your new hair seemed to work as some sort of isolation material. You were sweating buckets! A strong smell came from your glorified body.

You headed out of your room, looking for a mirror to check out this new you. In the bathroom, you are met with a man you barely recognize as your best friend. The previously blond twink had grown a dark stubble overnight. His body had also grown in size, but not as big as you. He had gained some inches, as well as some muscle. “Bro, what happened to you?” He said. Bro? He never said bro. He wasn’t some weird douche! “Whacha mean man?” You were shocked by what left your mouth! Your voice had dropped 2 octaves being a full and heavy voice. 

All of a sudden the way your friend looked at you changed. As if his train of thought had changed. He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “He bro, you look like you need to blow of some steam. Let me help you.” He got onto his knees, his nose in the thick bush just above your dick. He sniffed your ripe musk, looking up at you as if asking for permission. You could only grin at him, as he put your thick girthy cock in his mouth.

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

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Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

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*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

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*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

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*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

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*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

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*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

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*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

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*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

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It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

The university was clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel when they paired you up with your jock of a roommate. The residence hall questionnaire could only have been entirely ignored when dorm assignments rolled in and the housing department created the ultimate odd couple.

You were there to study, take notes, get a degree, and learn how to live on your own without your parents there to cook and clean. Your roommate on the other hand was there to meet bros, build muscle, and attending to the incessant needs of his cock with whatever convenient vagina he could find at that moment. And all this took president over any kind of cleaning or tidying or laundry—it didn't take long for his sweaty clothes from his routine workouts to establish a sustained odor. At the same time, you also managed to develop a raging crush on your inflexibly straight roomie.

It didn't take long for his habits and your habits to cause friction and even less time for you to get to the end of your rope. Getting out wasn't going to be an option, not this year with the dorms at capacity and no other willing swappers in their system. In your desperation to get out or try to change any aspect of the situation, you find yourself reaching out to me.

My solution is a potion that promises to make the necessary changes to guarantee he becomes the perfect roommate for you, so long as you both drink it.

Slipping it in his protein shake proved to be quite simple. Once he was off to the gym for the evening with his spiked supplement, you took the other vial in your hand, regarded the liquid for a moment, and downed it.

...

You wait for a moment, expecting... well what should you be expecting...

After a few seconds of nothing, you wonder what you really just drank. Magic wasn't real, and despite what you'd heard about me from... whatever source, you realize how foolish you were thinking a little—mountain dew maybe?—would change anything with your disgusting roommate.

Man, his musky work-out smell is really strong. You always think it's the worst it's been and then the b.o. manages to intensify. Instead, you make a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the stench by crossing to your side of the room, except it proves to be inescapable.

Ugh, you look down and see a shirt on the ground on your side of the room. He's really taking over everything now. You go to pick it up... but realize it's one of your shirts... and... it smells. Do you need more deodorant? Did you forget to put the shirt in the hamper?— Is he wearing your clothes?... Did that thought turn you on a bit?

Wait a second. Are you smelling the shirt? You were smelling the shirt. You didn't even realize it but you while you were lost in thought, you had brought the garment with his rank aroma to your nose and taken a nice deep breath... maybe a couple—you couldn't remember...

And again... it smells kinda nice... except... you realize the shirt was his. It was a lycra compression shirt, and you didn't own any lycra... why did you think it was your shirt? You didn't go to the gym, work out; you don't have any muscle like he does so it make sense because if it was yours, you'd—

You catch a view of yourself. Each side of the room had a closet for every resident, and these closets had large, fully-mirrored sliding doors. If you had muscle, you probably would own lycra clothing, you probably would check yourself out in your closet mirror like he did, you probably would flex your muscles, like...

Like this... and this...

Even though you didn't work out, you saw some shadow of definition. You felt your modest weenie chub up as your biceps bulged even just slightly. And if you fleeeeeeeexed again... you might be able to smell your own musk wafting outward from your exposed arm pits. If you strike this pose... it could exaggerate the taper of your midsection from your shoulders narrowing to your waist. If you wanted to see that v-shape even better, you could take off your shirt... let it hit the floor... add to the pile of your other sweaty rank gym clothes. If you contracted like... this, you could cause your pecs to bulge and your arms to come into clearer definition, almost like they were not just bulging with muscle, but actually swelling, growing larger. This is what muscular people must feel like—your were turning yourself on more and more making your dick grow harder and harder seeming to thicken in your underwear until it bulges obviously in your black joggers.

And if you did have a bigger dick and bigger balls you'd have more testosterone, a sharper jaw, body hair. Hair that would highlight your abs and dust your pecs and give you thicker muskier bushes under your arms. But if you did have a bigger dick, you would probably be soooo horny. You would probably be so dumb. if you were swole, you'd just need to lift and flex... and if you were horny, you'd just need a steady stream of cock and ass to tend to your own big thick dick...

you flex again... and again... and again...

if you were a nerd, you'd probably hate living with a dumb bro like you, but you got paired with the perfect roommate who just wants to flex and fuck. just like you.

The door opens and your roommate enters. You turn towards him, mid-flex. The stench of your combined musk hits him like a drug and you see his bulge swell visibly in this fuckbro gym shorts. Somehow the college had paired you with another gay bro who was always down to offer a hand or a hole any time of day or night—and you were just as willing to return the favor.

Ugh, I Hate Bongs.

Switching it up slightly! Here's a more subtle TF as a straight edge busybody finally tries to stick it to his stoner roommate. -Occam

Chris was not going to let his roommate smoke in their apartment anymore. He was tired of the couch smelling like smoke which is reason enough, but beyond that his roommate, Nate, had fully broken two broken two bongs getting ashy water all over the work Chris had left out in the den. Hearing a telltale gurgle coming from the living room could only mean Nate had now brought a third bong into their shared space. Chris felt almost bound to act.

As soon as he opens his bedroom door he feels a wave of thick smoke blow through him, clearly getting the skunky smell he hates so much all over his clothes and bedding. This was something Chris could not let stand. It’s bad enough that he’s doing this in the apartment at all now it’s now going to start seeping into the only place he had left. He sees Nate on the couch taking in a deep breath preparing to lay into him. But? What was he mad about anyway?

Standing there continuing to breathe in smoke from Nate’s session he remembers there was definitely something he needed to do. He was in his room, then he heard his roommate, and now he is in the living room? As he continues to aimlessly circle through these seemingly insignificant events he doesn’t even notice as he stops smelling the weed in the air, before seeing Nate take another massive bong hit on the couch. Seeing him out of his room Nate smiles, breathing another wave of smoke into the room.

“Yo dude! Are you coming to join?” Nate’s eyes are bleary and red as he offers the bong and lighter to his roommate.

That’s what it was, Chris remembers as he sees the bong. He was pissed that his roommate was using a bong! It was, annoying for some reason? I mean it looks a little dirty right? “Didn’t I say no bongs dude?”

“Oh yeah dude! That’s why I rolled you a joint?”

This throws Chris for a loop. What a kind thing to do but he can’t help but feel something amiss going on. The smile briefly fades from Nate as he grows concerned seeing Chris struggle. “Woah everything good dude?”

“Yeah, sorry? My head just feels like it’s pounding,” Chris rubs his face in discomfort feeling his face grow flush and his eyes begin to dry.

“This’ll straighten you right up dude, come on just try a hit.”

Chris, upon being directly asked, puts out a hand for the joint and immediately lights it up like he has done it a thousand times over. He takes a hit like an expert, breathing slowly and naturally as to not cough. Only after doing so and realizing he had no discomfort he starts a coughing fit. Of course, he has been breathing progressively more and more smoke since stepping out of his bedroom, so this fit is almost performative. Something he is doing only because it is something he should be doing, or he thinks he should be doing? He doesn’t usually smoke, right?

This thought quickly flashes out of his head as feels lightheaded, collapsing onto the couch right next to Nate. His body growing leaner as he almost liquefies into the cushions, “See Chris what did I say, one hit and you’re already cured.” His glazed eyes look over to his friend as he takes another hit. He sees his friend’s stubbled face and wonders if he should grow one of his own. Shaving is more effort than it’s worth anyway. He exhales as he too starts to add to the pervasive smoke filling the room.

He scratches at his face as a scraggly beard starts to push out. Pausing to feel as much as he can in his body before taking another hit. Pushing his back against the couch, rubbing his arm down his chest and stomach, Nate watching as his roommate finally lets loose. Chris takes a third hit as Nate sees his hair get greasier as his pubes push out beyond the bounds of his holey underwear.

Chris launches into another coughing fit as, unbeknownst to him, he finishes the joint and starts to burn the filter. Seeing this Nate reacts as quickly as he can, clumsily putting the bong down on the table reaching out to check on Chris, rubbing his roommates back in a way that seem decidedly intimate. “Y’okay dude? Your hits were way too big but ‘s chill ‘s chill. You didn’t want any more did you?”

Sluggishly working through the words Nate just asked him he finds he doesn’t need to search for his own answer. Why wouldn’t he want more? Everything just feels so much better as he stretches, feeling his tendons and muscles expand and contract, “Mmmmm yeah I could do a little more.” Before he remembers that with his joint now impossibly consumed in three hits the only weed ready to smoke is in the bong’s bowl, still vaguely unpleasant to him.

Nate then has a masterful idea. He would shotgun the weed to Chris! Why would he be averse to that? They’re friends right? Chris, numbed beyond reason, is more than happy to give it a try. He’s sure that he's drunk after Nate before right? Or? Have they kissed before? It’s hard to tell, the benders they go on its truly impossible to say.

Chris watches as Nate takes a massive hit of the bong. Water gurgling for full seconds before he reconsiders, one last time feeling unease, he isn’t the to go on benders right? He’s so type a he wouldn’t even think about it. Continuing to question himself as he leans towards Nate, finishing his inhale as he too leans towards Chris. He opens his mouth letting the cloud of smoke leak out of his mouth, lazily gazing into Chris’ eyes expecting him to finish the job.

Seeing this Chris is unable to resist as he stumbles forward pressing his mouth to Nate’s.

Nate falls backwards, once more narrowly placing the bong on the table, as Chris crashes into him. The playful second hand smoking quickly dissolving into an aggressive grinding session as Chris hungrily slobbers over Nate’s neck. Maybe he is this type of person. Nate pulls Chris’ shirt off letting their torsos touch skin to skin as Chris begins dry humping his roommate. The two stoners continue in this regard as their cocks swiftly demand attention as sweatpants are pulled down and the two have at each other outright. Lean arms flailing in the air as they pull on each other's unwashed hair. Faces shove into hairy pits in lieu of smoking any more weed, besides of course the haze still filling the apartment. The pressure quickly mounts as Chris is inches from finishing all over his roommates’ hairy chest before he shifts and his left leg flings into the table knocking over bong number three. “Shit dude!” he cries as he does indeed finish missing Nate’s chest for his face. Coming down from their ecstasy the pair stumble off the couch narrowly avoiding glass shards as they try to clean up Chris’ mess.

“Maybe no more bongs yeah,” Chris giggles at something he can quite understand as he watches Nate struggle with a broom. His eyes shift from the unground weed on the table and his still unclad roommate as he starts to work himself up once more. Hungrily awaiting what comes next, he prepares for session two.

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

One would do well to exercise caution when hitchhiking, don't want to end up going somewhere untoward. Hitchhiker to Bro muscle growth and personality change!

In other news I've been reblogging my favorite stories at my side blog if that's interesting to anyone! Feel free to send feedback or questions there if you have them!

Occam's Revue

As ever, Enjoy! -Occam

Jace always says that he bikes to work for environmental reasons, but in reality it’s just to save some cash. Cars are expensive after all and if he ever needs a ride somewhere it’s never too hard for him to get one, usually without even needing to use an app or anything. Case in point, not five minutes after losing a tire on his bike and beginning the dauntless task of signaling to cars he already has a bite. It’s not his first time hitchhiking, usually he gets a ride sooner than he expects but this was almost bizarrely fast. 

Pulling up just in front of Jace, coming to a stop in the shoulder, is a massive truck. He grimaces at the bumper stickers for a local infamously bro-y gym but decides to not turn his nose up and tosses his bike in the empty truck bed. Beggars should not look at gift horses and what not he grumbles to himself as he makes for the side door. Before getting in he takes note of the certainly illegal tint on the windows, the only thing visible through the blackness is a massive figure in the driver’s seat. He starts to reconsider before seeing a glint where the man’s eyes must be as a voice commands, “Get in.” He is overcome with darkness as the world goes black.

Jace feels his body buckled in and in motion before any of his other senses return. He hears gusts of wind soaring through a window, deciding he must be in the truck apparently speeding down the road. His eyes open blearily and he looks around the cabin, confirming his bike is in the back before inspecting the driver. Jace blushes as he sees a massive shirtless man with his eyes on the road. He watches as the veins in his arm bulge, tendons straining with every small movement of the wheel. Jace takes in every powerful line of the man before he squints, the edges of his memory slowly returning, what exactly just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only a creaky groan comes from his dry throat.

This is enough to draw the driver’s attention, “Woah bro you up now? You totally conked out as soon as ya hopped in. Didn’t even have a chance to introduce myself, ‘S Chase!” He sends up the automatic windows before sticking out a hand for Jace to shake. He hesitates seeing a hand that would certainly more than encompass the whole of his own, grimacing as he concludes it surely can’t be clean. Nevertheless he meets it with a gulp and chokes out a, “Th- thanks for the ride Chase, I’m Jace.” Chase guffaws at their rhyming names as he continues speeding down the highway.

Jace then wonders where they’re driving to, Jace surely wouldn’t buckle up without knowing where they were going? But surely they didn't work something out if they’ve only just introduced themselves? He’s pretty sure they’re going in the direction of his home as he tries to dig deep in his memory, trying to understand what led him to get in this car. Before recollection can begin outright, with the windows now rolled up, Jace is absolutely overwhelmed as an oppressive body odor begins to fill the cabin of the truck. Any coherent thought in his mind vacates as he is assaulted by what must be this man’s abhorrent musk. He rachets his arm up to cover his nose and Chase turns and tilts his head, “Everything alright bro?”

Jace scowls as he looks back at the driver, it seems almost supernatural how horrid it suddenly smells in the car. He scans Chase’s figure looking for obvious sweat stains before balking as he sees the man completely dry despite each ongoing breath feeling like it is more musk than air. Putting two and two together Chase sniffs the air before guffawing once more, “Yooo bro, huhuh, you’re absolutely rank.” The idea is so ludicrous he doesn’t even think to consider it as a possibility. His arm rockets away from his nose as he opens his mouth to insult the meathead. He doesn’t get a chance to do so, feeling the telltale yet unfamiliar sensation of his arm sliding against the sweat still pouring out his armpits, his mind goes absolutely blank and his face burns crimson in embarrassment.

Chase, never scared of a little bro stink, pats him on the scrawny shoulder and laughs loudly, deliberately grating Jace might think were he able to form thoughts over the blood rushing through his head. “Must’ve been outside a while huh bro.” Jace’s eye twitches as the jock calling him bro cuts through his paralysis, he goes to sniff his pits to see just how bad the damage is, only to find it sickly alluring to him. He feels something catch in his chest, feeling almost giddy at getting off to his own pit stink. Deep laughter just as Chase has done a handful of times nearly escapes Jace, as instinctual and unconscious as a sneeze or yawn. He holds back hearing Chase ask a question, “Did you still wanna head home or get a session in at the gym first?”

Stupid question. Why would he ever want to go to the gym with some guy he doesn’t even really know, still he responds evasively, if not with kindness, given the inherent charity of the situation, “Oh! No thanks Chase, I’m, uh, a little tired and all.” Almost tackling on a I should shower to the end, the thought goes sour in his mind and he shakes it off. Chase purses his lips and shrugs, “Yeah that checks out ‘lil bro. You’d probably get in the way anyway with that long hair and all.” 

Jace feels insulted before he is torn on whether or not to be taken aback by that, as stated he doesn’t want to go so he should just let it fly. But something in his chest suddenly wants to speak up at the challenge. And what was up with that weird hair thing, he can just tie it up obviously. Jace pulls down the passenger mirror to look at his reflection, to tidy his hair or perhaps put it up to show the dunce how he’s surely able to go with him. No action follows as his reflection appears, seeing the long garish hair trailing down his back he is hit with a feeling of disdain, almost revulsion, at his long gaudy bleached hair. He puts a good deal of effort in each day taking care of his long locs, but all of a sudden, wouldn’t it be better if they were just gone? He’d look way better if his hair was like Chase’s. God he almost just wants to rip it out.

His hands rocket to his scalp and he itches with determination, as if this basal instinct was the only thing that matters to him. His long hair flies around the car no mind paid to its aesthetics or care, with each lash out the strands begin to shrink back into his scalp. Losing its carefully colored bleach and cleanliness as it rapidly sucks in, leaving behind a greasy close-cut that would do well to be hidden under a hat. His head swings back into the seat rest and he stares again at his own reflection, pride or something even more primal rises in his chest as he sees this new masc haircut framing his pretty boy face. Chase’s hand goes to hit him in the back of the head, “Nice haircut bro! You look like a real man now huhuh! You growin’ out some stubble to huh?”

Jace rubs his hair a few seconds longer watching as a few hairs start to poke out of his chin. In no time at all he’s got a messy yet deliberately maintained beard on his chin. He checks his angles in the mirror and fights back against the instinct to smirk at his own reflection. God what’s gotten into him. As if reading his mind Chase quickly interjects to keep him focused on his reflection, “your arms are lookin’ pretty tight too dude. Bet they’d look better without those tattoos though.”

Rather than retorting about his arms being sticks and bones or defending the tattoos that he spent a good deal of time stressing and dreaming over. The first thought that surfaces as his eyes stare into the small mirror is ‘what tattoos?’ His eyes glaze over as he stares at himself, his mouth lulling ajar, just short of drool pooling out as his arms rise to flex. Blotches that must be tattoos on his upper arm rapidly fade as he strains to make muscle rise on his biceps. Definitely not though as he’d never get tats, and distract from his definition? Psh- Muscle pounds out of his arms as the thought occurs to him. Veins pulse as a defined almost baseball sized hunk of meat bulges on his arm, no larger than a baseball. Jace finally gives in and smirks at himself as he is overcome with pride looking at his own reflection. Fuck his arm looks so fucking jacked.

Seeing Jace flex at himself Chase tries his luck again, “Still don’t want to hit the gym with me bruh?” Jace clicks his tongue and replies, “I literally just said no didn’t I br-” only just stopping short of calling Chase bro. Massive arms he may have but he certainly doesn’t have the head of a dullard on his shoulders. His shoulders. Meekly looking at his reflection, he can't help but focus on his small shoulders and chest, aching for more power. Chase brightens as a rare thought bursts into his mind, “Ohhh I get it bro, you’ve already been today haven’t you?”

Jace’s eyes widen as the words pour over him, already been to the gym today? His chest vibrates as muscle begins to form where there was no weight at all to speak of. His nipples rub against his shirt as pecs begin to stretch his tank top tight before straining it to its limits. He grunts as he feels the traps he only just wished for push out of his bony back, the straps over his shoulders cutting into his now expanded shoulders, as the seat belt tightly hugs the chest still pushing out larger. It is not long at all before his shirt rips off altogether, Chase shouts praise for his bro but the gears begin to slow to a crawl in Jace’s mind as he feels the heat radiating off his impossibly growing body.

Like a computer overheating, every process in his mind slows as he struggles not to just shut down in the face of this, this. He cannot waste effort thinking about what horrors are happening to him. He just needs to, ugh stop it. He just- He just needs to flex, doesn't he? His body does so whether that’s what he wanted or not. Vibrating with power and strain as whatever resistance remains in his mind begins to trickle away as he feels a pressure grow in his crotch. Jace feels his thighs strain his pants and he kicks off his shoes before they burst entirely, revealing his incredibly holey socks and loosing his inhuman foot odor into the car. No chance to react as his core rapidly tightens, abs pounding and putting on weight as from head to toe he hardens and grows tight with power.

He burps loudly, tasting something unfamiliar and chalky. It is immediately followed up by a laugh rather than the shame that something inside him desperately fights to assign it. It is met with a side-eye from the driver before he too bursts out laughing, “Brooo I thought you said you didn’t wanna get pumped with me! Why’d you have pre then?” Jace blushes as he looks down at his crotch, seeing his cock pump larger than it ever has before, though he tilts his head in confusion as he doesn’t see a pre-stain, yet at least. Jace turns to look at Chase in sheepish confusion before the man responds, “Huhuh, pre-workout you doofus, stop thinking with your balls for a sec bruh, hah!”

Jace smiles to himself, pleased that Chase found him funny even if it was at his expense. Why would he be with his bro if he wasn’t going to the gym, he did drink pre-workout like his bro said? Jace feels himself start to get a headache as he strains to think, Chase’s eyes fill with pity before darkening with a hunger as he pats Jace on the back, “ay chill chill bro, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Jace’s eyes burn and his nose flares as he grunts. He does want to go to the gym, now. He needs to more than anything. His mind is filled to bursting with the desire to spend time pumping iron with his bro at the gym. Chase smirks as he watches the fire leave his passenger’s eyes and they glaze over. Clearly no original thoughts will be flashing through his mind, perhaps no thoughts at all anymore. 

He speaks up and Jace looks over like a dog to his owner, “While we’re on the way Jace, would you mind driving the rest of the way so I can wank one out real quick? You know how I get in there and I don’t want to lose it while I’m lifting bruh, huhuh.” Jace nods eagerly looking for any way to please his bro. He buckles up, tossing his leg over the wheel as Chase hops in the back. Images of his bro doing this before fill Jace's mind, alongside just as many of the two of them jacking off back there together. He shakes his head as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants, inching further down the leg of his shorts. He smirks as he thinks about their workout, and more importantly the fun they are to have together immediately after as he smells Chase’s odor start to mingle with his own. No thoughts are spared on the bike sitting in the back as it shifts to a dirty workout bag, why would he need a bike anyway when he never leaves his bro’s side.

The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.

Putrid Profession

You were sitting at your desk well after most of your staff had gone home. Earlier today your assistant Max informed you that Noah, a new employee you just hired for social media marketing, has been not meeting deadlines and has been showing up to work late. Reassuring Max you told him to go find Noah and ask him to come into your office at eight thirty that night. As he walked out of your office you could hear him saying under his breath “I don’t want to go talk to that gassy oafs cubicle. Why couldn’t this just be a email” and so off Max went. Oddly Max came back with watery eyes and his hair looking like it had just been blown back with a leaf blower, groggily telling you that Noah will be in at eight thirty Max told you that he “wasn’t feeling very well” and proceeded to ask to go home. You granted permission for your twinky little assistant to have the rest of the day off and told him that you would just get someone else to go out to get your lunch later. Now, hours later, you were waiting for Noah to come in so you can have a chat about getting him back on the right track with the company.

(Your assistant Max)

Hearing your door open, you look up from your computer and see “Noah” standing in front of you. You were a little shocked because this isn’t who you remembered hiring, he was much beefier now than just a few weeks ago. “I heard you wanted to uhhhh like talk to me boss man” Noah said, his vernacular was dumber too than it was when you hired him. “Take a seat Noah, I don’t want to make you stand for too long”, you told him, “Uhhhh is this gonna take long bossman? I have to hit the gym in a bit, my bros are expecting me”, Noah dumbly said as he scratched his behind. “Oh, no this shouldn’t take long” you said obviously surprised that he was being a bit disrespectful. Noah sat down and leaned back, spreading his legs super wide. You began to talk to Noah about his failure to meet deadlines and his tardiness when it came to work. As you were going on and on about this you caught a whiff of something foul-smelling permeating the air, “Aughh that reeks! Do you smell that?!” you asked Noah. You watched as a devilishly grinned, “Smell what bossman? My fart fumes?” he chuckled as he let out a loud, echoing fart. Utterly shocked you covered your nose with your shirt collar, “Huhuhuh that cute assistant of yours tried the same exact thing when I butt blasted him!” Noah tauntingly said. “This is utterly disgusting and unacceptable behavior in the workplace Noah!” you yelled out, “Eh” he shrugged “you won't think like that soon” and then under his breath he said “if you’ll be able to think at all”. You began to cough and as you were coughing, you tried to fan the fumes away from your face. “Might as well get comfy” Noah said taking his shirt off. The first thing you thought was “I need to call HR immediately tomorrow” immediately followed up with “But I shouldn’t do that to someone who is this sexy”, shaking your head you knew you would never, in a million years, think that in a situation like this, he was being essentially a gross teenage boy, how was that hot? you got up and said “I think this talk is over Noah” and started heading for the door, “I think it is too” said Noah fiendishly. As you we’re walking around your desk towards the door, Noah let a massive fart rip, “Ahhhhhhh” he moaned, “That's been brewing since my burrito at lunch”. The fart was absolutely rancid, capable of knocking someone out, you felt your knees get weak and you collapsed. You picked yourself up onto your knees and as you looked up you saw Noah…

“Bombs away bossman” you heard from Noah as the most putrefying funk blasted out of his smelly ass and right up into your nose. You watched Noah lean into the long fart as his ass got less than an inch away from your nose. Feeling your strength completely drain out of you, you passed out on the floor. You woke up feeling groggy and weak but you got yourself to your feet. Noah was nowhere to be seen and you couldn’t exactly remember what just happened. Collecting your thoughts, you walked to the bathroom as a sudden urge to take a dump came over you. Bursting into a stall, you pulled your pants down and let out a boisterous cloud of flatulence into the toilet bowl. Feeling sudden relief you got up and walked to the mirror, relishing in your own funky fumes clouding the bathroom you looked into the mirror and made eye contact with your reflection as you let another fart blast out of your ass. Dumbly guffawing you heard a notification from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you saw it was a photo from your assistant Max

The pic was followed with the text, “we should give noah a promotion or something bro i haven’t felt so good in forever i cant stop hotboxing my bedroom with my fartsss you should come like see bro”

Feeling hot and horny all of a sudden you stripped off your shirt and sent Max “broooo ill do whatever you want as long as you let me fuck your fart makerrrr”

Skater Stench

Inspired by Anon Ask

Clay was walking to work on an empty street, looking down at his phone he suddenly saw in the corner of his eye someone quickly moving towards him. All of a sudden, just as he was looking up from his phone, some dude on a skateboard crashed right into him knocking the both of them down. As the skater bro laid right on top of him Clay heard the guy start profusely apologizing, “Oh my gawd duuude im so sorry like I wasnt paying attention at all!”. Getting up first the skater held out his hand to help Clay up to his feet, looking down at himself Clay realized that his outfit was ruined from the fall. As the skater pulled him up Clay began to berate the guy, “How stupid could you be?! Some of us have actual responsibilities like work and I cant show up looking like this!”, etc etc. The skater obviously annoyed that Clay was getting so heated over an accident tried to apologize again, “Look man I am real sorry I-” Clay cut him off “I dont care if you’re sorry! How exactly do you plan on fixing this?!” The skater tried one last time to amend the situation “Look we got off on the wrong foot Im Apollo.” he held out his hand inviting Clay to shake his hand. Clay pushed Apollo's hand down and again just was insulting and berating the guy. Tired of this douchebag yelling at him Apollo furrowed his brows and pushed Clay back down to the ground. Falling on his ass Clay yelled out “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!”, Apollo responded “Dude you definitely need a reality check, i'm just helping give it to you”. Quickly turning around so that Clay was looking right at Apollo’s ass, Clay was assaulted with the stench of Apollo’s obviously unwashed ass “You smell so fou-” “PPPPPPFFFFBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT” Apollo interrupted Clay with a boisterous butt blast. “What….the…fuuuuuuuuck…” Clay said as the eggy stench that Apollo just shot into his face began to make him feel weird. Clay heard as Apollo said “Sorry man but I really think you need this” “FFFFRRRRTTT” another gust was inhaled by Clay. “...this…feels……wrong…” Clay was having an even harder time speaking than before. Turning back around and squatting to get face to face with him, Apollo held Clays head in place and told him “Look bro im gonna change you okay? You are gonna be waaaaay more chill once im done” Apollo watched as Clay gently nodded his head. “PPPPPPFFFBBBTTT” Apollo let out another fart and watched as Clay’s light brown pupil turned into swirling green spirals.

“Good boy” Apollo cooed out to Clay. “Skaters enjoy farting out rank clouds of gas, its the funniest thing to us” “FRAAAP” Clay felt as his nose began to like the fetid smell that was filling the air around the two boys. “Skaters don't mind getting knocked down, it’s part of skating” Clay felt as his anger and annoyance towards the fact the Apollo knocked him off his feet quickly rushed out of him. “FRAAAAP” those feelings quickly rushed out of his ass, producing a disgusting stench Clay would have normally been grossed out by but for some reason he found the meaty smelling fart humorous. “Skaters dont mind wearing ripped up and distressed clothes, in fact they like it” “FRAAAAP” Clay suddenly felt that his clothes were actually pretty cool, his temper would no longer rise if he was seen in ripped up clothes. “Skaters like spending their days skating and fucking other skater bros, its the best way to live” “FRAAAP” Clay’s mind grew lighter as his previous responsibilities evaporated into a smelly fart and were replaced with the desire to waste his days skating around and making his skater bros feel maximum amounts of pleasure. “Skaters are dumb mindless idiots whose brains have been replaced with their own ass stank” “BRRRRAAAAAPPPPP” Clay watched as Apollo recoiled due to the malodorous fart Clay just produced, feeling even more light headed than ever Clay began uncontrollably chuckling, “huhuhuhuhuhuh…” Apollo stood up and held out his hand and helped Clay up to his feet. Letting out one last fart Apollo watched as Clay’s eyes returned back to normal and he stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “How you feeling bro?” Apollo asked, “huhuh I feel… BRAAAP- sniff sniff gooood” Clay chuckled out. “What are you doin today duuuude?” Apollo questioned Clay, “Uhhhhhh skating…duhhhh…what else would I pfffbbbtt be doin?”

The Motorcycle learning experience

— This story was a bit rushed so srry!! Still kinda ate, let me know what u think! —

It was Christmas, and Logan found himself gifted of an intriguing gift: a full-day motorcycle riding lesson with an instructor. As an 18-year-old nerd, he initially felt apprehensive about the gift, that was given from his roommate. Motorcycles, cars, sports… none of those were interesting to him, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless and thanked his roommate before going to sleep for the night.

Months later, the appointed day arrived, and as Logan made his way to the designated location, he experienced an unusual sensation of liberation. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, but he attributed it to the novelty of learning something outside his usual comfort zone, or because he was about to turn into the hottest biker the world had seen.

Upon arriving at the building, he was greeted by a man clad in a full Dainese leather suit and helmet, arms crossed in anticipation. Logan couldn't help but feel uncertain about the leather attire, but resigned himself to the fact that he would be wearing a suit likely worn by countless others before him—a thought that left him mildly repulsed.

Logan also never really liked bikers, each time he encountered one they were moving around traffic dangerously, almost making cars crash including himself. He wondered why his roommate had the idea to gift him that, it was totally not what he would usually enjoy and his roommate knew it.

"Yo, are you Logan?" the man inquired, removing his helmet to reveal a strikingly handsome, youthful visage reminiscent of a high school jock.

"H-hello...yes, I'm Logan," he stuttered, suddenly feeling more self-conscious in the presence of the attractive boy. Despite his heterosexual orientation, Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the leather-clad figure, his attention inadvertently fixating on the notable bulge accentuated by the attire.

"Alright, man, let's get started! I'll teach you the basics, but I've heard you've been riding for quite some time, so I won't need to hold your hand too much," the instructor remarked, interrupting Logan's internal musings.

"Actually—" Logan began, only to be cut off.

"So, first things first, here are your, pants, and leather jacket. Did you bring your own helmet?"

"No, I didn't..." Logan admitted, feeling increasingly bewildered by the instructor's assumptions and distracted by his own conflicting emotions.

"Bro, it's in your biker backpack right there," the instructor interjected, gesturing toward a backpack resting nearby. Logan turned to see the backpack for the first time, realizing he had been oblivious to its presence amidst the flurry of confusion. Overwhelmed by the situation and the instructor's disarming charisma, Logan's thoughts began to slow as he struggled to process what was happening.

“Man, bikers can be dumb sometimes..you’re no exception, but we got a little issue. I only have one pair of boots, which are mine, I ride with them everyday and they’re very good, bro. Just take ‘em.”

Logan took the boots without even replying, his head fogged up.

*arriving in the changing rooms, the instructor was following him.*

“Alright, first, the boots, bro.” The instructor grabbed them, and all of the sudden, shoved one of them into Logan’s face; the boot had a cheesy, hot intoxicating musk that immediately made Logan pass out. The funk was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, it was very hot and humid, while being absolutely disgusting.

-2 hours later-

Logan wakes up, surprisingly finding himself in full Dainese leather that did not fit him at all, the leather suit was ridiculously large, more fitting for a man the size of the instructor, and Logan was skinny. He tried to take the jacket off, but it was stuck to him, he started to panic.

“Nah bro, don’t take it off. You’re becoming a biker boy now.”

“S-stop..get it OFF!” He was becoming mad and anxious, not knowing what was going on and panicking inside the suit.

“Alright bro, it’s coming again.” The instructor was coming with the same biker boot in his hand as earlier, and Logan knew what was coming. He again shoved the biker boot on his face, the odiferous stench inside of it making him pass out again after just a few sniffs.

As he was passed out - the instructor watched Logan’s feet grow, more and more, until they stopped at a size 13.5, with long thick toes and perfectly cut nails. The smell emitting from his new feet was simply rancid, and similar to the instructors. Cheesy, manly, and sweaty. Every time he’d remove his boots, or shoes, the strench would be able to reek up an entire area. The instructor thought it would be good for dominating.

Next, Logan’s legs shrunk a little. Not in musculature, but in height. He became 5’9 fairly quickly, which was still a proper height.

Speaking of musculature, his legs and quads exploded out, becoming full of muscles and veins. They were a sight to see, and his thighs able to crush watermelons easily.

The instructor needed to keep Logan passed out, and this time he chose his feet. He took his big fat muscular biker feet, wrapped in white Nike socks that were more yellowish now, and shoved them into Logan’s nose again, keeping him « asleep ».

After his legs, came the awaited moment of his butt. It was currently hidden beneath the leather, so flat that it couldn’t be seen at all. Suddenly, the once flat buns were becoming stronger, and bigger. They were becoming large, fat and full of muscles. Not necessarily massive, but round with fat and muscles. The two orbs now started to bulge out of the leather pants attractively.

As the transformation continued, Logan would now have another way to dominate and be worshipped due to; frequent & fetid gas. His digestive system changed, matching one that would be made to emit farts very frequently, and even more due to Logan’s new diet, burgers, tacos, and overall greasy foods made his gas smell like rotten eggs & sulfur. The strench would also get caught up in the leather gear and make his entire body stink whenever he was wearing leather pants.

Logan couldn’t feel it, but his penis was now undergoing some changes. The precious 3 inches had been growing at the same time as his orbs in the back, now stopping at an over average but still reasonable 6 inches, but a smaller 3 inches soft, with balls that would be able to produce lots of alpha cum.

The once unassuming upper physique of the 18-year-old nerd underwent a discernible metamorphosis – his abs, once absolutely inexistant ,emerged with striking definition, now a defined sweaty 6pack that would turn heads whenever he was shirtless.

His chest, once modest in appearance, underwent a notable change. It expanded and firmed up, revealing well-defined pecs that seemed almost pillowy in their muscular fullness.The leather jacket sleeves strained against the growing bulk of his arms, which were also changing, combining sinewy strength with a compelling visual presence.

The aroma of genuine leather lingered around him, but other than that atmosphere, a unique fragrance emanated from Logan's body. His armpits, once understated, now emitted a confident, sweaty alpha scent – a true proof of him being an alpha, made to dominate and be worshipped.

As Logans transformation would soon end, his facial features underwent very much needed changes. he once unassuming face of the 18-year-old nerd evolved into something strikingly different. His jawline sharpened, cheekbones gained prominence, and his eyes took on a newfound intensity.

Simultaneously, subtle changes extended to his overall attractiveness. His skin acquired a healthy glow, and any lines that hinted at youth's passing subtly softened, adding an undeniable allure to his appearance.

Then, Logan woke up. Mixed thoughts were in his head, both wanting to escape and other ones where he thought he’d always been a biker boy, dominant and alpha.

“Right. MAX. What’s your name?” The instructor asked.

“I’m..Logan…” Logan, or should I say max, answered.

“No, your name has always been max, you’ve always been a dominant biker boy, 19 years old, bisexual, horny, gross, primal and eager to fuck.” The instructor said, hypnotising Max permanently and overwriting his previous memories.

“Yeah bro, I’m max. Wanna smell my fucking feet ?”

The transformation was complete. Max drove home on his motorcycle, smelling ripe with sweat and very hungry for a hole to fill. It was his new life. Max just wanted to dominate, fuck, spread his funk, and ride.

The Drifter

Every now and again, when things just weren’t going your way, a brisk hike through the woods always helped to clear your mind. The rustling leaves, chirping of birds, the gravel trail beneath your shoes... it just seemed to help all the troubles and struggles of the day melt away. Today, however, something was off. You parked your car in the North Lot, and being so eager to decompress you left the lights on. Two hours later, you return to a lemon. The battery was dead, and with no one else in the parking lot, your only option was to run to the South Lot where the ranger station was. Thus, you sighed in exhaustion as you turned around and stumbled the long three mile trek to the South Lot.

The park was massive, and only had one main road for cars to pass from the entrance to the two parking lots. The winding gravel road was not particularly well maintained, and you thought to yourself on more than one occasion that the designer of the park must have had some bad Acid when he had routed it. Hard right turns, steep hills and filled with potholes the size of bowling balls. This was hardly the way you’d have preferred to get to the South Lot, but it was the most direct route and had the potential of a passing motorist saving your afternoon. Yet, a mile and a quarter in, not only had no one passed by you, but the sun was beginning to set beyond the canopy above. Surely a park ranger would have seen your car and gone looking before closing the gates?

Regardless of how long you had been walking, in your mind, you’d gone fifty miles. Just as the tree stump tumbled over on the side of the road looked awfully nice to take a quick nap on, a faint red light in the distance caught your eye. Just around the bend, on the other side of the ridge was a black car, and it was running. Relief! What modicums of energy you could expend, you did as you booked it down the gravel road, nearly tripping over your own feet three times enroute. Finally, the sound of a running motor brought such reassurance as you came up on the car. It was an old muscle car, a 1969 Mustang, not that you knew it. All you knew and cared about was the assistance from whomever the driver was. Walking up to the drivers side window, you sigh and prepare to thank the driver...

Empty. The car was running, windows down, The Weeknd blaring on the radio. You looked around the surrounding area for the owner, met only with empty woods at dusk.

“Hello?!” You cried out, now worried that you had stumbled upon a crime scene or a trap. No response. You turned around to glance at the car again, only to see the drivers side door was now ajar. You knew that you hadn’t opened it. You knew that there was no one inside the car, and after a peek under the car you knew there was no one around. It was an old car, perhaps it just didn’t shut properly? Ignoring the implausibility of that thought, you took a seat on the drivers seat, and tried to think of a plan. The sun was setting, you’re sitting in an abandoned car in the middle of the woods, and you’re still miles away from the ranger.

“Get in...” an ethereal voice whispered out of the radio, superimposed over the uninterrupted music. You turned to the old radio, second guessing your senses, not even realizing you had brought your legs inside of the car. The door slowly shut behind you as you examined the radio. The stick shifted into drive, and the car began to lurch forward. Panic set in, it was a trap of some sort. Kidnapping? You were poor no one would pay... Human Trafficking? Maybe, but this was awfully elaborate for that. A prank? A TV prank show was not out of the realm of possibility...

“Relax...” the voice cooed over the radio again, it’s soothing and velvety tone was certainly comforting. The car drove slowly, winding down the road toward the rangers station and the South Lot. Bruno Mars was now serenading on the radio, music that you were rather indifferent to before and yet in that moment it felt as if you knew every word and every verse. You allowed the music to relax you, to let you breathe.

“Smoke...” You looked down at the ashtray, a still smoking blunt sat waiting next to a metal lighter. It felt second nature to you to bring the blunt to your mouth, the dampness of its previous owners lips could still be tasted as you inhaled your first toke. You blew rings of delicate smoke as if you’d been smoking since you were a teenager. The haze of weed washed over you and you sank back into the seat, enjoying the vibes of the music, the smoke, and the drive.

“Let me in... Take the wheel...” You did as instructed. It felt so right to just fall, to just be, to just be driven. Your hands touched the worn leather steering wheel, and a shock ran up through your fingertips all the way to your toes. Your hands grasped the wheel confidently, and shifted gears effortlessly. Surges of energy hit you in waves, each one slowly washing you into a clean slate. Those woes and worries that had brought you into the woods in the first place seemed so far away now. Just the thought of snipping that life away, beginning anew as someone else. No cares, no worries, just the wide world and open road to wander.

“Just drive...” the voice now echoed inside your head, entirely separate from the radio. Zayn now crooned his sultry tones over the speakers, your personal favorite. He reminded you a bit of who you wanted to be: laid back, unbothered, stoic, effortlessly cool... that attitude of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ just gets under your skin and takes control. In fact, you wanted it to. You wanted that attitude, that vibe, that life inside of you. And as it began to flow into you from your hands gripping the wheel, you welcomed the change.

It started with pinpricks, as if your arms had fallen asleep. Yet, as they moved independently of you, grabbing the blunt, taking a toke, shifting into 2nd... it became a different sensation entirely. It was as if water was flowing into you, the swishing and sloshing of liquid within you, flooding from your fingertips downward. Your palms grew sweaty and calloused, doubling in size as they continued driving the car. Little scars and knicks from bygone bar room scuffles adorned your knuckles, drifting free spirits aren’t always welcomed in roadside haunts- so you had learned to handle yourself early on.

Your forearms were growing as well, the viscous sensation flowed upward into your arms, large biceps began to expand your shirtsleeves until your grey shirt had ripped. Poke and stick tattoos sprawled up your tanning skin, an outlet for your creativity and frustrations when you are bored at your Midwest rest stops or refueling at the lonely desert gas stations. Thick tufts of hair sprouted from your pits as the liquid flowed into your broadening shoulders, the remains of your poor shirt falling in shreds around you. A subtle musk started to emanate from your pits, peppery and sharp... one of your favorite scents.

Your chest expanded, two pierced Nipples perked brightly on your glistening, sticky pecs; the droplets of sweat rolled down to your navel, lean abs popping up as they passed by. You feel your posture adjust as your ass rounded out, two firm globes had you spreading your growing legs wide and leaning back into the worn leather seats.

One hand on the wheel, you grab your swelling bulge. The constraints of your pants and underwear was mounting rapidly, and in just moments you’d unzipped your fly, and released your throbbing uncut 10 incher. You groped your balls, cupping them as the grew and dropped like two golf balls in a sac. Just the slightest touch of your coarse, calloused hand on the sensitive tip of your head gave you an involuntary gasp. Pre flowed out like a faucet slipping under your musky foreskin, making every movement and jolt of the car an incredible barrage of ecstasy.

Your thighs ballooned out, and your calves hardened after years of hard work doing short stints in mechanic shops across the country. A couple hours per week, just enough to fix up the car, and keep going to the next place. Your slick, ripe size 13 feet were never going to be tied down to any one place. The world was your playground. You love your freedom, you love your independence, you love yourself, and you’re ready to roam the roads carefree from now until infinity.

Your face was the last to adjust, your eyes turning into a bright minty green, with a healthy scruffy beard sprouting up from your eternally youthful skin. As the liquid flowed up your throat, your Adam’s apple protruded even further, as the pressure kept mounting. By the time it had rushed into your head, luscious blonde locks curled out of your scalp, and earrings popped out as a final cherry on top.

You turned around, grabbing your bag from the backseat, happy to put on your favorite jeans, cleanest tank top, and well worn and loved leather jacket. Your car pulled up to a halt at the ranger station just as you were pulling on your rank harness boots. Musk, weed, and leather smells poured from the open windows as the ranger walked up to the car.

“Hey there’s an abandoned car in the North Lot. Been there for a few hours.” Your velvety baritone voice instantly charmed the man, and combined with the wafting smells from your Mustang he replied,

“Uh... yeah, yeah. Thank you sir... I’ll take a... a... a look...” the ranger stared at the sexy drifter before him, his pants began to tent. You of course took notice, reaching out for a quick grope. He gasped and moaned at your confident grasp. With one single wink, a sticky spot quickly formed in his pants.

“Ay, hurry up and we can go take a drive, whaddya say?”

I enjoyed writing this. Commissioners, your pieces are coming.

Mycelium

Elliott nervously scribbled on his flashcards, hoping to God that it was enough to pass the exam. Dr. Whitacre was a notoriously tough grader, and she would absolutely kick him from the Senior Expedition if he were to get anything less than a 97. Mycology was Elliott's passion, so missing the trip to the rainforests of Borneo was NOT an option. Luckily, he was fortunate his roommate Guillermo was returning from his class trip to the Amazon, so he could hopefully give some insight into what to expect, if not help him study for the exam.

The doorknob jiggled, and he could hear the insertion of the key into the lock. The door swung open and closed, Elliott completely enveloped in his flashcards.

"Hey man, I'll be with you in a second. I've got like two more here, but I have to hear about the trip!" He was met only with silence, and the loud thunk of a duffel bag hitting the floor. Heavy footsteps began to walk toward the wardrobe to the left of him. Guillermo must have gotten some heavy hiking boots, because those clunks could not have been made by his tiny feet... Guillermo was only 5'2, skinny as a pipecleaner, and pushing 40 years old.

The scribbling finally came to a close as he finished his final card: Pathogenic Fungi. Slamming his pencil against the desk, he leaned back in his chair, ready beyond words for a small respite. Only then did he feel the tingle in his nose. He took a quick sniff. It was faint, but it was sweet, salty, almost sour... and completely intoxicating. He turned toward the point of origin, only to see who was leaning against the old weathered armoire. It was Guillermo, or rather, his face was reminiscent of him. He was young, muscled, and outrageously large, standing a jaw dropping 7'1. His irises were completely black, and seemed to move as if filled with a liquid. A look of cocky intrigue graced his handsome face, one that Elliott could not break contact with.

"See something you like, roomie?" Guillermo's thick Belizean accent remained, albeit several octaves lower. Every inch of him glistened, his skin shiny and coated in a layer of shining sweat. He threw his muscular arms behind his head, the biceps seemingly pulsating as he flexed. The forests of hair in his pits dripped thick droplets of sweat, as they dropped to the floor and splattered like slime.

Before Elliott could even make a single remark, the scent intensified dramatically. What was once subtle was now immensely pungent and carried with it an almost wet weight to it. It felt humid, as if his musk was as wet and hot as the rainforest he'd just returned from. It was thick, soupy, almost slimy and it slithered through the air around him; brushing against his skin, invading his nose, even tickling his tastebuds with overwhelming umami flavor.

"It feels so good, right? Smells so ripe, you can literally taste it." Guillermo was right, he could taste it. In fact, he could feel the plasmic musk seemingly flow like liquid down his throat and into his nose. "We all have our own, El. You could sniff every one of us coming off that plane, and all of us smelled different and so fucking great." Guillermo walked slowly toward the entranced Elliott, letting the heat from his chiseled body radiate throughout the room. "Doc Whitacre found a new kind of fungus, Elliott. Once you take in it's spores, it changes you. Makes you see things you never would see before, feel things you never could. It makes you so fuckin strong, and so fuckin horny... You can hear the others in your head, almost like one mind, and once you let that amazing musk into your body... You're gonna see what it can do for you."

Guillermo was inches from Elliott's face, the heat exuding from his strong pecs was too much. Every inhibition completely obliterated, Elliott buried his face into the ripe, sticky pits, and began to lick. He drank the musk out of the tap, letting Guillermo's savory flavor cloud every thought and judgement. Smirking with his now plush, supple lips, he grabbed Elliott's chin between his two meaty fingers and brought it close to his own before letting his tongue do the rest. The two locked lips, Elliott experiencing the savory, sweet taste of Guillermo's saliva.

The spores had finally built up in Elliott's system, the sheer amount of them released out of Guillermo's pits, groin and feet would have overwhelmed a much larger person in about sixty seconds of exposure. Elliott being lean, short, and lanky meant the transformation stage would happen rapidly. As the microscopic spores in the slimy sweat transferred from Guillermo to Elliott, he could feel the viscous fungi invade his pores. Intense euphoria set in as he felt his muscles spasm and engorge with the slimy fungus flowing into them. Inflating at an alarming rate, he could sense his chest firming up, and his body temperature rising. Everything began to echo in his ears, as if the room had gotten quite a bit bigger. He could hear Guillermo's heart beat, he could hear the sound of the slimy spores slipping into him, and he certainly could hear the sloshing sounds of his arms inflating with fungal slime.

Guillermo pulled away and knocked Elliott to the ground, kicking his dripping black socks and rank yellow trainers off his gigantic boatlike feet. A malicious smile crept onto his face as he lowered his sole onto Elliott's face, letting his slimy toes curl around the nose. Elliott breathed deeply, and lapped his elongating tongue over the slick, reeking foot. With every breath, his torso grew larger, firmer, and more muscular. His legs swelled, and his groin stirred. Thick tufts of body hair began to sprout from his pecs and abs, spreading down his firm quads and calves, down to his rapidly expanding feet.

Snatching a facecloth from the chair, Guillermo pulled down his shorts and jockstrap and began to wipe his pendulous, slimy balls and taint all over the towel. Black precum began to seep slowly from his thick, uncut cock, so why not add a bit of the salty surprise onto the damp towel for his best friend? Pulling his foot from his face, and pressing it on Elliott's throbbing groin, he tossed the towel onto his friend's face, knowing all too well that the last stage of the transformation was the facial region. Listening to the ethereal, dark voices the fungus spoke in his black, slimy brain, Guillermo slid his own filthy socks and ripe trainers onto Elliott's now size 17 feet; letting the spores seep even further into their now muscular, slimy host.

Sliding his slick, smelly foot up and down the massive shaft, Guillermo began to stroke himself as well as the virility became too much to manage. Beneath the slimy towel, Elliott began to see vibrant, dancing colors no human eye had ever seen before, hiding within every glistening spore. They sparkled like a chromatic night sky, creating seas of indescribable constellations and nebulae. Of course, his mind was finally being completely reprogrammed. The sludge had finally made it's way into the brain through the bloodstream.

Flowing through his veins was now his own black slimy spores. Coating his brain, coating his lungs, filling his balls, and most importantly, now wafting from him. Elliott began to smell his own newfound musk, so distinct from Guillermo's, and just as irresistibly potent. He grabbed Guillermo's ankle and began to thrust against his friend's slimy foot, before hearing his moans of pleasure in his mind. He could hear the sounds of Guillermo's mind on the edge of climax, feeling the sensations of mounting tension as his own. In mere seconds, the two blew their black sludge loads in tandem; pints of it. The coated eachother in the other's cum, only stopping after their balls stopped undulating. The sludge, animate, found it's way into their cocks, teasing another round of pleasure as the boys felt the other's cum flow into their balls.

The assimilation process was complete. The fungus had taken complete control of Elliott, and added him to the hive mind. Pulling the towel from his face, an entirely transformed Amazonian man rose to his feet. Elliott's irises flooded quickly with the very last of the mycelium sludge, now filled with the same rippling black liquid as Guillermo. Both boys smiled at eachother, groping and feeling eachother before intently inhaling eachother's addictive musk. They felt the same directive, the same innate need to procreate, to spread. That is, after all, the purpose of all life. The rest of the university was easy pickings for the fungus, it would likely only take a day or two at most... No need to rush. So Elliott, taking in his newfound confidence and swagger, groped Guillermo's musky sac, before falling onto the futon. Bringing his fingers, coated in Guillermo's spores to his nose, taking in every ounce of him... The two were irrisistable, even to eachother, as Guillermo laid atop his new mate for another fuck session.

Something’s Wrong with Luca

Teddy and Lucas were the best of friends. For the past fifteen years, since Lucas' family moved to town from Argentina, the two were inseparable. In fact, Teddy could remember the very day that they met as if it had happened the day before. Sitting in the back row in homeroom, seventh grade, Ms. Posner's old cadaverous talons gripping the Argentine boy's shoulders as she presented him to the class... Lucas didn't speak English very well at the time, so few if any of the other kids were particularly interested in being his friend. In most of his classes, at least for the first few years, he had to have an aide to help him through his coursework; most of the other kids assumed he was stupid and quiet. But the moment he was sat next to Teddy, sharing that genuine smile, it sparked the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

As Lucas' english speaking continued to improve, Teddy discovered a goofy, funny, laid back kid who just wanted a friend. They weren't popular kids, passing on sports teams, drama club, music ensembles, art club... they spent their time playing in the woods, creating fantastical realms of pirates and kings, elves and dwarves. In their fantasy worlds, they were safe. They were away from the judging eyes of their peers where they could truly be themselves. And so on it continued for the better part of a decade. Upon graduation, they had grown into two wildly intelligent, albeit a bit awkward young men ready to tackle the world. Though, as Teddy went on to university to study literature, Lucas' family wasn't able to afford any of the colleges he'd been accepted to. Thus, for the first time in their lives, the two were separated. Teddy flew across the country to Virginia for college, and Lucas stayed behind to work in his father's mechanic shop.

Their new situations were polar opposite, though their communication and relationship never faded. At least once a week they would facetime, updating eachother on their lives. The dynamic was as solid as it ever was, until it wasn't.

One cold January evening, Teddy sat down for his weekly video call, excited beyond words to tell Lucas about the new PS5 he'd bought for them to play Rocket League together on weekends. Though as call after call went unanswered, he decided to call it a night and touch base with him the next morning. Though, as morning came and went, there was still no sign of Lucas. His social medias went without updates, Teddy's texts went entirely unanswered, the only news heard from him whatsoever was from his step brother who mentioned that he'd seen Lucas working hard at the shop and hitting the gym he'd frequented.

This was the first peculiar incident that Teddy had noted. He'd known Lucas for years and while he was a lot of things, athletic was NOT one of them. It'd always been them versus the meatheads, and it was not like him to even consider lifting so much as a five pound weight. They would joke about the stupid smelly brutes in the school gym, mindlessly picking heavy things up and putting them back down again for some sense of marginal achievement. Though this would be only the beginning of Lucas' odd behavior. Months went by, Teddy checking his Instagram every day looking for a single sign his friend was doing alright, until one day as he was scrolling, he saw it.

It was Lucas, though not the proud, stringy outcast he'd left behind. This Lucas was ripped, proudly posing shirtless in some fancy-looking room he had never seen before, a cocky smirk plastered on his sweet face. The caption read:

"Workout complete: who's gonna give me a tongue bath?" followed by a slew of hashtags. Teddy's face flushed white as snow. Who was this person? What happened to him? Tapping his icon, Teddy saw that Lucas had changed his screenname to Luca, and this thirst trap he'd posted was the first one in over four months. Unsure of how to approach this vastly different person, Teddy replied to the post with a simple shocked emoji and hit send. It didn't take long before his phone dinged with a message: it was from Luca.

L: "yo sorry I been afk bro. my cuz julio been visiting from buenos aires... so i been hangin wit him. wuts up bro"

Immediately, Teddy thought his phone had been hacked. Luca had spent years perfecting his english, almost to the point where he would have been a tutor in the writing center had he wanted to be one. His texts were always grammatic perfection, down to the last punctuation mark.

T: "Uh, that's fine. I didn't know you had a cousin? You never talked about him or anything."

L: "bruh i didnt know he existed til he showed up. hes dope af. showin me some pointrs at liftin n shit. been changin my life. you gotta meet him when you come back."

T: "Sure, Lucas. I would love to meet him. I should be back next week actually, the semester is almost over. Maybe we can play RL at my place!"

L: "hah i dont think hed be into that kinda stuff. you shud hit the gym wit us when we go, get that pump goin ykwim. you gon love him."

Teddy frowned, had Lucas changed that much in the span of a few months? It wasn't just the physical differences, it was his attitude, it was his style, it was the way he talked, it was just... all wrong.

T: "Lucas, are you okay?"

L: "never better man. its Luca btw. fits better i think"

With that last text, Teddy decided to leave him on read. Lucas... or Luca rather, wasn't one to drink or do illicit substances. Though aside from that, he couldn't think of any other explanation for this dramatic shift in his friend's entire personality. He resolved then and there to get to the bottom of this, and he would do so in person the following week.

Thus, as he finished his finals, packed his bags and flew back home, the singular thing on his mind was seeing Luca. Arriving home, he monotonously went through the motions of greeting his parents and step brother, anxiously fidgeting on the car ride back from the airport. He didn't even take time to unpack his bags. The moment his mom's car parked in his driveway, he'd politely excused himself to go meet up with Luca. Hopping on his bike, he left his visibly confused family in the dust, rushing to the mechanic shop downtown where Luca worked.

By the time he got there, the shop was closing up for the day. Teddy ditched the bike on the concrete and burst into the front office, startling the lady behind the desk. Panting and sweaty, he collapsed onto the front desk.

"Uhm... Is Lucas here?" He breathlessly choked out the words to the woman, who confusedly cocked her head to the left. "Oh, I guess it's Luca now?" This name evidently struck a chord, where she nodded and pointed to the back room where the lockers sat. Teddy thanked her and slowly walked toward the big grey door. Placing his hand on the cold steel handle, he closed his eyes repeating to himself hopes that the person behind the door was the same one he'd always known. As he pressed the handle down and pushed the door open, the wet, dank smell of ripe sweat poured out. There, sitting on the bench, taking off his beat up pair of steel toed work boots was a shirtless Luca, almost twice the size he had been before. Where he used to be 5'8 and 101 lbs soaking wet, this Luca was easily 6'4 and pure muscle. His biceps bulged as he yanked his boot from his massive foot, veins pulsating up and down his arms. That boyish face remained, albeit with a newfound twinge of cockiness that was entirely counter to the mousy, nervous expression Teddy had grown to love. The moment he looked up, Luca grinned from ear to ear, hopping to his damp, socked feet and rushing his long lost best friend, throwing his arms wide to embrace him.

"Teddy!" Luca's chiseled body collided with Teddy's, holding him tightly against his statuesque torso with his face pressed against his sweat-slick pecs. Teddy felt like a child now compared to his friend, now transformed into a complete stranger. "It's so good to see you, hermano!" A thick Argentine accent bellowed from his newly baritone timbre- one that had been all but lost in school, but now prominently flowed from his supple lips. Teddy pulled away sharply, taking a step back in shock. "Oh, ¿es el olor? My bad, mi cuate. Long day of hard work, right?" Luca laughed, raising his arm to take a deep whiff of his dripping pits. "Ahhh. You grow to like it, me entiendes?" His jovial demeanor quickly subsided as he saw the look of absolute shock on Teddy's face.

"Lucas... What the fuck happened to you?"

"It's Luca now, hermano. I told you. Still the same guy as before, just a lil different now."

"Yeah... different. You can say that again." Luca sighed as he plopped back down onto the bench, spreading his legs wide as he rubbed his face.

"Yeah. I get it, man. It's a lot to take in, verdad? I told you my cousin Julio was in town for a while?" Teddy sternly nodded, straining to contain his contempt for this sharp departure of personality. Luca looked downward. "Yeah, well. He was a lot different from the rest of mi familia. He was a proud Argentino hombre. He was okay with not having perfect english, he wasn't scared of bein' different or bein' looked down on. Someone looked sideways at him and they'd have a broken jaw, me entiendes? It... it was so fuckin' nice to have someone around like me who was cool and strong and proud... I always wanted to be someone like him, Teddy. Always." Teddy saw a different Luca before him. Yeah, he was different, he was the embodiment of the thirst-trapping, smelly jock bros they hated as kids. Yet, in this moment of vulnerability, he saw the Luca he knew deep down.

"Luca, all those years of us being friends, being this close, you never told me that." His head hung low, running his hands through his sweaty locks.

"That's not the only thing I haven't told you, man."

"Luca, you can tell me anythi..." Luca threw his head straight up, staring Teddy straight in the eye before blurting out:

"TEDDY I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU!" The room fell silent. Both men sat there, not breaking eye contact, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Of course, someone had to be the one, and Luca sighed as he continued. "Mi amor, I have always loved you. Since day one. Lookin' at eachother in that old bat's class, I knew I wanted to be near you. With you. And it wasn't 'til Julio made me realize I should have fuckin' said somethin' that I let my balls drop and promised I would tell you. So yeah, man. I love you." Luca stood up abruptly, with a confidence entirely foreign to Teddy and towered above his infatuation. "And you know what? I think you love me too."

Teddy was gobsmacked. This was a revelation he wasn't prepared to address. Luca loved him? This cocky, jockish best friend of his loved him? More importantly, did he love him back? They stood there, waiting once again for the ice to be broken. Before long, Luca had turned around and began to pack his duffel bag, fearing he'd gotten the answer he was hoping to avoid. Yet, perhaps it was a moment of clarity, or even a moment of weakness, but something deep within Teddy surged up from his core out his mouth.

"I love you too." The quiet admission didn't go unnoticed, as Luca stopped everything he was doing and immediately turned around. "Yeah, I think I love you too Luca. You may be different now than you were, but all this time I couldn't stop thinking about you. How much I missed you, how I would have rather spent every single second with you than every moment of being out there without you." Luca smiled earnestly, slowly moving toward his cowering love. "And it made me scared and uncomfortable because I was terrified things were changing and I stayed the same. Seeing you like this this, you're doing what I could never do. You're growing, you're becoming the best version of yourself, and I didn't know if you'd even want to be around me anymore or if you'd be ashamed..." Teddy's groveling finally ended with Luca's lips firmly pressing against his, the stubble on his chin scratching against Teddy's smooth skin. His inhibitions melted away, Teddy allowed himself to fall into the sweaty stud's firm hold, wrapped in a warm sticky embrace.

"Do you wanna to be your best self then, mi amor?" Luca whispered so gently, as if his words were caressing the ear. Breathless, Teddy could only nod as he allowed his endorphins to take over. "Julio showed me how. Do you trust me?" Another silent nod, stifling a guttural moan as he felt Luca's bulge rapidly growing firm against his stomach. This was the explicit consent that Luca felt he needed, he was desperately aching to bestow upon his lover Julio's gift which he had been given months before.

Teddy felt a firm grip against his shoulders pressing him down to his knees, until he was eye level with the lengthening rod which strained against Luca's thick sweatpants. For so long he'd suppressed his innate desire to give it the worship he felt it had never received and as Luca threw the waistband down to his ankles, he was not disappointed as it flew up and smacked him in the jaw. Before him was the most anatomically perfect cock he'd ever seen: easily 10.5 inches of thick, uncut, musky dick. Two large-egg sized balls sagged low behind it, spattered with selective hairs and dripping sweat. Teddy felt drool begin to drip from the bottom of his lip, the sheer heat of the musty hot rod only millimeters from the tip of his nose. Luca smiled, wrapping his hand around it and pulling his long foreskin down, revealing the pink, leaking mushroom head it contained.

"Julio showed me an old family secret. Only a few of us can do it, and I want to do it for you, mi amor." He began to stroke slowly; his member immediately taking direct notice, throbbing in a fervor more akin to convulsion. "He fucked it up last time, he didn't come back. But now thanks to him... I know how to give it to you, babe." Luca took his thumb and gently pried Teddy's mouth open. Eager to please, Teddy quickly took the opportunity to lick the tip of his cock, instantly savoring the powerful flavor of his dripping pre. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Sweet, salty, sour, savory... every taste bud fired thousands of endorphins in his brain. "Get your tongue in there, Cariño. Let it in." Teddy's tongue acted as if it were under another power, softly probing the leaking slit of the head and causing Luca to groan in ecstasy, throwing his head back. Grabbing the back of his head, in one firm push, Luca speared Teddy's gaping maw with his musky cock, pressing the nose firmly into his ripe bush.

Teddy was nearly scent-drunk in his love's dank, masculine smell, and only after a split second did he realize his entire tongue had slipped into Luca's thick rod. Grunting like a man in heat, the latin adonis gritted his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he felt Teddy's tongue slowly retract out of his cock. Released from his impalement, Teddy observed the wide opening of the cockslit in full view. Luca's hands gripped his palms, guiding his index finger back to the inviting orifice, effortlessly slipping in and sounding into his member. Elastic stretching sounds echoed in the room as the cock widened to fit his finger, then two, then four... until the whole hand was inside.

Teddy felt entranced, completely enveloped in the heat of the moment, plunging his second hand into the gaping hole. It stretched wide to welcome him, and with a single glance upward to a winking Luca, he understood. Teddy worked quickly, using forward momentum and the increasing suction within the engorged cock to propel his head forward into the tight wet cavern. The rest happened quickly. The sucking member had taken his arms and head entirely inside of it, squeaking and expanding as it guzzled his shoulders, chest and midsection. He could feel Luca lift his dick upward, letting him slide deeper and deeper. It was constricting, it was tight, it was wet, it smelled funky and ripe... it was the best sensation he'd ever felt. As his thighs and calves were made quick work of, only his feet remained outside of the slit. It took mere seconds for them to slurp inside.

Luca's cock was as large as he was, veins bulging and the entire length of it bulging and contorting as it worked Teddy down little by little toward his balls. He began to pump toward his sweaty balls, until he could feel the tips of his boyhood friend's fingers reach the opening into his cavernous testes. As if a seal had been broken, Teddy's body fell into the ocean of spunk, swelling his balls to accommodate the entire human being being nestled into his sac. The pace of his cock pumping hastened, as he felt closer and closer to climax. He felt the rigid bones and gelatinous fat begin to melt into his seed as Teddy was assimilated entirely into his system. Just as Julio had done to him, and just as he had in turn done to Julio. His breathing shallowed, gasping for air as he reached his tipping point, shooting out cum like a firehose all over the interior of the room. In it, was every insecurity, every pain, every imperfection which had plagued his lover since he was forced into the world. Gallons, tens of gallons in cum painted every surface around him, and as his balls began to shrink back down to the size of cantaloupes, he could feel his body churning Teddy down, incorporating him into the remnants of what was left of Julio. The gift itself, handed down the line for thousands of years was being imbued into the very core of Teddy's being. Julio had overshot his escape route in the heat of his own carnal lust, being broken down and slowly assimilated into Luca's body. The cockiness, the libido, the drive, the gift all now coursed through Luca. He was gone, but he didn't have to be wasted.

Over the next few weeks of churning, gurgling, bubbling, and undulating, Teddy was broken down and rebuilt only to be broken down again. Each time, a little more of Julio's essence would incorporate into him, even some of Luca himelf found its way into his shapeless form. Every workout that he did provided bursts of testosterone into the mix, and every jerking session flooded serotonin and glutamate. And after carefully monitoring the time, ensuring that Teddy would not meet his cousin's fate, three months later, it was time.

Sitting down in the luxurious apartment paid for by thirsty gay subscribers to his JustForFans and PH videos, Luca took his cock into his hands once more. Gently. Slowly. Carefully. Never losing focus of what was at stake, he stroked. Within his heavy balls, his leche had begun to bubble and slosh, preparing itself for expulsion. He picked up the pace, lifting his arm to get a full inhale of his pungent, all-natural pit poppers. His cock began to pulse and crack, as the thick sludge began to make its way toward the exit. Sure not to fall into the same trap as before, he pulled away from his tangy stink and focused. It was time. His hand moved furiously up and down his slimy cock, dripping with pre which pooled at his big, musky feet. One final cry of euphoria and out shot his load. One barrage after another, thick and dense landing afront him. Each shot slowly coagulating into a recognizable form. It slowly hardened, the milky white color giving way to ivory, then light beige, then a warm tan. Muscles tightened beneath a smooth skin, their fibers reconnecting one by one until they were strong and lean.

By the end of the bombardment, the homunculus before him had stood up. It was as tall as him, as broad as him, as powerful as him, and as the form of it's face began to take shape, a single tear was shed from Luca's watery eyes. He recognized his love, he could see Teddy, albeit ever so slightly different. He had certainly taken more of Julio and Luca's essences than they'd anticipated. A sharp, chiseled jawline carved itself out of the miasma, dark brown locks of hair sprung from it's scalp and plump lips parted to allow the deep breath of life which had been denied until then. His caramel eyes opened, and he smiled.