Archerprice - Untitled - Tumblr Blog

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.

The Boxers and Bro Cap are 🥵🔥

Thank you, good boy. I really love to write an old-fashioned clothing transformation once in a while.

You know how, sometimes, you'll be out in the world and suddenly think of tf? Like, you see a snapback cap sitting abandoned on a bench, and you suddenly think "That cap would probably turn me into a total bro."

You imagine the kind of guy who would wear a cap like that. Sweaty. Douchey. Self-obsessed. Perpetually shirtless to show off his massive, perfectly aesthetic pecs and bulky biceps. Sexy stubble on his face. Totally brainless, massively horny. A toxic fuck machine who'll cum in any hole.

You can't help yourself. You have to pick up the hat, feel how stiff it is with hard-earned sweat. Put it on, feeling it settle on your scalp. Grab the brim and turn it around.

Fuck, bro, you fuckin' killed that chest day! Now go find some lame femme and pass the cap on, bro!

Chase was nervous going into his first year of college. Especially since he didn’t know who his roommate would be. When he met Alex for the first time he was annoyed by the stereotypical jock bro he was but tried to make the best of it. The two got along surprisingly well though and the first few weeks of school were good. Until one weekend when Chase complained to Alex that he had nothing to do because his date had cancelled on him. “We’ll you can always go to the party with me bro. I’ve been trying to get you there for weeks bruh. C’mon you love it!” Chase was unsure about going, he was shy and not really a party person. He also didn’t want to be around a lot of frat bros, which were most of Alex’s friends. But he reluctantly decided to give it a shot. Alex was excited but the next day before they left he told Chase that he needed to “fix something’s” before he could go to this party. Chase wasn’t sure what that meant but then Alex handed him a strange bottle and told him to drink it. Chase asked what is was but Alex said “don’t worry about it bruh. It’s just a little pre gaming.” So figuring it was alcohol Chase drank it. The stuff smelled nasty and burned all the way down his throat making him cough. “What was that shit bro?” He stopped as he noticed his voice sounded off, deeper and bro like. He was even talking like one now! He groaned as his body began to shake and his skinny body expanded with muscle. Big thick pecs pushing his shirt off them as his biceps did the same. His back widening and going down to a tight v taper. His abs were growing in a getting nice and defined as his legs thickened along with his ass. He let out and even deeper more sensual moan as he felt his dick grow longer and thicker in his pants. His balks swelled and dropped lower too. Full of new jock testosterone. He finished his transformation with his face becoming sharper and a stubbles beard filling in his jaw line as his hair hit a touch longer and slightly curly. “Hey you ready to go party bro?” Alex asked him. “Fuck yeah brah! I was born ready! Everyone is gonna dig this hot bod tonight bro. I’m so fucking horny!” Alex laughed as his former nerdy roommate was becoming a jock bro like him. “Oh yeah bro they definitely will love it. And you know that I do. Here I’ll help you out quick before we go.” With that Alex tan his hands down Chase’s firm muscles and gave him the best hand job he’d ever had. Bros take care of each other after all and these two would definitely have more “fun” together before the Semester was done.

One of the Boys

A bead of sweat appeared on Brian Watson’s forehead as he stood outside his high school’s athletic center. His oversized black sweatshirt and skinny jeans insulated his slender figure beneath the hot afternoon sun while groups of other students in various high school sports teams walked past. Brian detested the athletic center and wished it wasn’t the closest building to the adjacent street. He checked his phone and huffed. His mom was supposed to pick him up a half-hour ago. What was taking so long?

Leaning against a wooden ledge, Brian stared off into the expansive and empty high school parking lot. None of his other friends were still at school. Like him, they also dyed their hair black and shared the same gothic fashion that he did, which amounted to them dressing only in all black clothing. Brian even had a black leather satchel in place of a backpack. It was their way of retaliating against their preppy high school. All the other students at Woodside High ignored them anyway. They were too busy talking about things Brian could care less about, like sports games and parties and grade point averages. They were all so fake.

Brian noticed a muscular young man carrying a gym bag walking across the empty parking lot towards him. It was Michael Palmer, a high school senior and one of the school’s linebackers whose tall height and broad stature was nothing less than intimidating. His khaki shorts and lavender polo shirt left little to the imagination. The two had the same science class, although they sat on opposite ends of the room, and Michael was surrounded by his own gaggle of bros that Brian resented. Michael looked up and the two accidentally made eye contact and Brian quickly went on his phone.

“Brian!” Michael said as he was now a few feet away, his low voice sent a chill down Brian’s spine. Maybe he was talking about another Brian. As the group of jocks walked past, he continued staring at his phone. That was until Michael suddenly placed his huge arm around Brian’s shoulder, effortlessly pulling him in closer. “What’s up dude?” he said.

Brian nervously returned eye contact to see the jock with a huge grin across his face. Michael had to be at least a foot taller than him and he was so close that Brian could smell his cheap cologne which smelled like a diluted ocean spray. His gelled black hair and faint stubble framed his face perfectly, giving him quite the masculine visage offset by the prettiness of his white teeth. Brian remained paralyzed with fear and confusion. Mostly confusion.

“Oh…um…hi,” Brian replied, unsure of what to say. His mind was racing. He had never even talked to Michael or the other sporty guys like him. “I’m...uh just waiting for my ride,” he said as more sweatdrops formed all around his body. He didn’t even know why he was getting so nervous around this guy. He loathed the football players with their macho personas and their vacuous and obnoxious laughter during class, but he had never actually talked to one of them before. And Michael Palmer did have such a genuine and friendly look in his eyes that was challenging Brian’s defenses.

“How do you think you did on the chemistry test today, big guy?” Michael asked.

“Oh...umm...I think I did well,” Brian replied as he studied the jock's broad smile and angular jawline.

“Don’t BS me,” Michael said, unconvinced. Even with more conviction, his calm, sultry voice was pleasant on the ears. “I know chem is not your favorite.”

That was true. Brian hated chemistry. It was his least favorite class by far. But why would Michael know that, let alone care? “I mean, I don’t think it was my worst test,” Brian said. “I...uh... I think I probably got like a C or something.”

“Hey, C’s get degrees man,” Michael replied while patting Brian on the back with tremendous force. As Brian readjusted his balance, he could see why Palmer was Michael’s last name. “You heading to practice?” he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah practice, dummy,” Michael replied playfully.

Brian stood in place, confusion rising even higher. “I don’t...I mean I’m not-”

“Come on inside dude,” Michael interrupted as he headed towards the front door. “I can tell you’re frying like an egg out here.”

That was also true. Brian was getting increasingly sweaty and parched. His black hair and clothing only absorbed more of the sun’s rays. He hesitantly picked up his leather satchel from the ground and followed Michael inside. He began rationalizing why Michael was being nice to him. It felt so unnerving. Brian decided he would just get a drink and then head back outside. That thought certainly wasn’t enticing. But he’d rather be outside frying than to spend it inside to avoid other football jocks.

As the two stepped inside, Brian intentionally walked slowly to distance himself from Michael, hoping that he would just enter the locker room and forget about him. To his luck, Michael continued walking ahead and Brian headed up to the drinking fountain. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was. The water was so quenching and he couldn’t help but take multiple large gulps. Brian rolled his eyes as he could hear footsteps heading towards him before stopping behind him.

“Ready for the game tomorrow?” Michael asked as he lightly slapped Brian’s butt, nearly causing him to choke on his water.

Brian’s face was now as red as a tomato as he turned to face Michael. His confusion turned to frustration when he saw Michael staring at him with that smug expression he always had. He would’ve socked Michael right then and there if he wasn’t a foot shorter than him or a hundred pounds lighter. But as he begrudgingly turned to face the jock, he realized that wasn’t the case. Before, his height had been at Michael’s shoulders, but now it was at Michael’s mouth. Brian was rendered speechless as he wondered if Michael had always been this short.

Then it happened again.

Brian nearly fell over as his body suddenly grew even taller. He stuck out his arms to keep his balance as his body shot upward. In a few seconds, he was a few inches taller than Michael, who he remembered was 6’2. An audible ripping sound indicated that his clothes had not grown with him.

“You think we got a good shot against the Generals on Friday?” Michael asked as if nothing had happened.

Brian glanced down at his extremely tight clothes in disbelief. More of his spindly arms and legs were now revealed. It looked like his clothes had shrunk in the wash. To Brian’s horror, he watched as his strained jeans started to rip more and more, revealing more of his skin. Was this really happening?

To answer his question, the belt holding up his skinny jeans exploded, sending a piece of metal careening through the air. Brian instinctively grabbed his pants to prevent them from falling. His embarrassment intensified and without thinking, he bolted into the nearest bathroom. Michael said something as he left, but Brian didn’t care. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered despairingly as he scrambled around the corner. But as he looked up, his blood went cold. “Oh, fuck.”

Right in front of him was a group of Woodside High’s football players. They were not only enormous-looking but were all in the process of getting dressed. Interestingly enough, Brian realized he was taller than all of the guys who were standing. He didn’t think about that for long though as he saw one of them glance up and look at him.

“Hey, what’s up Watson?” one of the jocks called out.

Shit, Brian thought. Not only had one of them seen him, but he also knew his last name somehow. He was about to leave when he heard Michael’s familiar voice behind him.

“What’s up bros?” Michael called out to the other guys as he entered the locker room. When Brian glanced back, he noticed Michael was so broad that he nearly filled the entire doorway, rendering escape both impossible and extremely awkward.

Brian’s forehead was coated with sweat and his heart was thumping faster than ever. He felt like a mouse in a cage of snakes, trapped in a vortex of impending doom. He could feel some of the players looking in his direction. Desperate to flee, he scanned the premises for a few agonizing seconds before he found success. There was a red exit sign hanging in the distance above the other side of the locker room. It was far away, but he just had to make it there.

In an instant, Brian bolted past the guys and further into the locker room while holding up his ripping pants with one hand. As he sped past lockers through the open clearing, he ran past windows of players getting ready and prayed none of them would notice him. The exit sign grew closer and closer and it looked like he was going to make it. That was until a huge football player adorned in his uniform stepped out from one of the lockers right in Brian’s way. The collision was inevitable. He closed his eyes as the two collided with an abrasive smack.

Brian fell to the ground and had lost the grip on his pants, causing them to loosen around his waist and fall to the floor. His black satchel flew towards an adjacent row of lockers. “Unghhhh,” he groaned as he reopened his eyes and stared at the jock who had hardly even budged. Brian’s heart was pumping faster than ever as he realized his entire lower body was now exposed. He wanted to scream. One of the largest guys in school was looking at him clad in only his underwear and a sweatshirt on the locker room floor. The jock’s hulking figure was clothed in a football uniform, the delicate combination of pads and spandex only made his figure look more imperious. Fear bubbled up inside of Brian so he promptly mustered out a “Shit, I’m sorry bro” to him as he tried to catch his breath.

​​

To Brian’s relief, the jock didn’t burst out laughing. “Whoa, watch it, Woodsen,” he said with a smug expression as he looked down at Brian on the floor. “We’re not even on the field yet,” he said sympathetically before extending his arm to pull him back up.

For a moment, Brian could only stare in bewilderment, too afraid to correct the jock for getting his last name wrong. The jock’s immense size was not only intimidating but somewhat breathtaking. As Brian grabbed his meaty hand, he pulled him upward like he was as light as a feather. When the two met eyes, Brian realized that he was exactly eye-level with this dude who had to be slightly taller than Michael. Somehow, Brian had gotten even taller without even knowing it.

“See you out there,” he said as he playfully swatted Brian on the butt before heading towards the door. As he left, Brian marveled at the width of his back, which was perfectly accentuated beneath his white jersey. The dark blue letters on the back read “WALLACE.” Then the name came to him. Trent Wallace was an amazing center who had the calmest head on his shoulders out of all of the team. He was an amazing team player whose patience was unparalleled. Brian found himself enjoying that trait a lot. It certainly was important to be a good leader.

Before Brian could wonder why he knew the jock’s name, he heard the low rumble of more guys heading towards him. He quickly snatched his satchel off the floor and ducked into the cavern of lockers where Trent had just been. Like a herd of buffalo, the group of guys passed by Brian without noticing him. The young man breathed a sigh of relief, finally happy to not have one of these meatheads in his face for a second.

A tickling feeling around his legs caught Brian’s attention. As he looked down, he wondered how on earth his black boxers had bleached themselves white. He squirmed as he could feel his underwear vibrating on its own. A strap formed underneath each of his buttcheeks while the fabric above disappeared. In the front, a swell of growth came from Brian’s thighs as they burst through the cotton, leaving behind only a pouch beneath his much stronger waistband. Feeling much more exposed, Brian’s face reddened as he looked at this new and very revealing article of clothing. As much as he detested what he was seeing, it felt oddly snug. Still, he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Shit, please don’t let anybody see me like this,” Brian prayed to himself as he studied how revealing the jockstrap was.

Desperately, he tried to rip it off with no luck. Each time Brian tugged on the athletic supporter, navy blue lycra materialized over it. The new fabric started materializing around his waist before promptly extending down over his small butt and down to his lower thighs. The uncomfortable draft from the jockstrap was quickly eliminated. He couldn’t help but smirk with conflicted relief as he realized he was now wearing a new pair of compression shorts and his embarrassing jockstrap was hidden away. Brian pulled on the new lycra, enjoying how tight yet breathable it felt against his loins. With all the movement around his dick, Brian couldn’t help but feel it rise with arousal.

‘No…no,” he whimpered as he slowly sat down on the bench. Now breathing much heavier, he swore he could feel his thighs growing beneath his hands. And sure enough, they were. They gradually swelled to an immense size beneath his compression shorts. It looked like he could squeeze a watermelon between them. Prickles of blonde hair appeared on his thighs before spreading all the way to his ankles. That was odd, his hair was black.

He could feel a tremendously ticklish feeling on his feet as if a million tiny threads were forming around them. As he shook his legs, he watched as a beautiful shade of white spread upwards from his feet, rising past his ankles until they stopped just below his knees. Brian’s new pair of white athletic socks brought a new wave of growth with them. His feet grew to a hulking size 13 before a pair of blue and white cleats formed around them. Huge calves the size of footballs swelled into fruition beneath his new socks. Brian’s disgust was turning to wonder.

“Am I…is this…really...happening?” he gasped as he placed his hands on his meaty thighs, marveling at how gigantic they had become. His breaths sounded lower, deeper even.

A strong odor filled the air and Brian immediately recognized it as sweat, and it was emanating from him! Brian’s fear had amplified a tremendous amount of his body odor. It felt like he was forced to inhale a cloud of his own manly musk. He couldn’t believe he had even been sweating this much. Uncharacteristically, he began to laugh, although came out at a much lower frequency. His tenor register sounded not only lower but also slower-sounding.

Brian closed his eyes and clenched his upper thighs, feeling the sinews of muscle pulsate beneath his fingertips. “Mmmm,” he moaned as he glanced at how disproportionately huge his lower body now was compared to his slender torso. Muscles this size took thousands of hours of strenuous exercise to appear. His pride skyrocketed as he caressed his thighs, partially concealed beneath his compression shorts. He wasn’t feeling afraid of the jocks anymore. If anyone of those cocky football jerks gave him trouble, he’d give ‘em hell!

“Mmmm, yeah,” he grunted as he cautiously guided his hand to his cock. He touched it once and felt it harden. After a brief moment of abstinence, Brian began stroking his cock beneath his black compression shorts. “That’ll show...those…fake posers,” he said, oblivious to how he was becoming one of them. Brian’s cock was lengthening in his hand as he closed his eyes and pictured all of the football players’ stupid smug faces. He could just picture himself flexing in front of the guys and them all respecting him.

RIIIP!

Brian’s stroking was interrupted when his pecs exploded through his black sweatshirt, tearing it apart into tatters, and exposing his chest. His initial confusion dissolved into satisfaction as he marveled at the size of these gigantic new muscular tits, each one had to be larger than his head. He delicately brought his hand up from his dick, tempted to feel the humongous muscle.

“Ffffuck!” he cried as he gave one a loving squeeze, feeling how thick the muscle really was. A million little tingles dispersed through his body as he lovingly cupped his pecs with both of his hands. A light dusting of blonde hair, just like the one on his legs, appeared above them. He was starting to obsess over the way he looked. This new size was so inspiring, but also a little nerve-wracking. Brian had memories of being a shorter young man who only wore black clothing and made it his personality to act apathetic to everyone. But that seemed out of character for him now. Brian enjoyed standing out in a crowd.

As if to counter those contradictory thoughts, Brian continued to inhale his manly musk and his heartbeat started to slow. With oversized muscle tits larger than the rack of any girl he’d ever seen and a thunderous set of legs, he looked like a circus freak. The barrel-chested young man squirmed on the bench as he felt follicles of blonde hair burst from beneath his armpits. A stream of hair flowed across his jugs to his abdomen before culminating in a visible treasure trail. Not only did the new path of hair indicate his increased testosterone levels, which had to be as large as half the team’s, but it also indicated virility. Brian was a man. Or at least he was growing into a huge one. And he was loving every second.

Throwing up both of his skinny arms into a flex sent more testosterone through his body. Brian watched his biceps explode with muscles, becoming larger. And larger. And larger, until eventually, they were larger than everyone else on the team. Years of training under the iron bar entered his mind and Brian remembered how long it had taken him to become this strong. An eight pack burst through his slender abdomen while also causing it to broaden in size. Brian looked at his tight muscly core. Like his arms, they felt eerily familiar, like they were created through strenuous physical activity. His arms felt like lightning bolts filled to the brim with testosterone that spread across his body like a static charge.

A football came flying through the air accompanied by a player saying “Wood, catch!”

Instinctively, Brian turned around and extended his tree trunk of an arm out to effortlessly catch the flying pigskin. He looked back up just in time to see Jake Thomas walking away. “Nice one, dude!” Jake said as he walked through the door, leaving as quickly as he had entered.

The tight end was one of many players who always tried to catch Brian off guard. They were hardly successful. Brian was a colossal athlete and zealously vigilant. Coach always told him his determination would get him very far in life, sometimes calling him the greatest on the team, which only inflated Brian’s ego.

Before Brian could question that thought, he felt a numbness in his hand where he was holding the football. His hand, once demure, was palming the football no problem. His hands grew meatier before his eyes, accentuated by new calluses and hair above the knuckles. They had to be the size of baseball mitts and were perfect for catching and throwing footballs with ease. That was an exciting thought.

“UNNNGHH, no!” he bellowed helplessly, resisting the side of him that was yearning for football practice.

As the immense young man stood up from the bench, his muscles shook like jello, before they solidified into hardened, insurmountable walls. Where there had once been a scared boy, there was now a hulking Adonis who was obsessed with his muscles. As Brian continued to flex his arms and twiddle his pecs, a rush of blood poured into his cock, causing his arousal to return stronger than ever.

“Oh…fuck,” he trembled with carnal anticipation. His much deeper voice echoed through the locker room. Its new baritone register was rendered completely unrecognizable from what it once was. That was hot. He sounded just like…just like…one of the boys. And he didn’t mind.

Brian’s husky bulge was on prime display for anyone who happened to walk by. His cautious expression shifted into a satisfied grin as he reached down to stroke it. Then all of a sudden, it disappeared beneath a layer of white. The new fabric extended from his waist to just below his knees, giving him a brand new pair of football pants. Brian chuckled to himself, unaware of how numb he was feeling to the changes.

The new player’s cock twitched as his ass inflated behind him. Two perfectly muscular globes stretched his compression shorts to the limit before they were swallowed by his new pants. Just like his pecs, his butt was a wall of muscle, on display in everything he wore. And Brian could remember every squat, leg lift, and all of the hard work he put in to become huge. His butt was the biggest in the team for a reason. His reputation of going hard on leg days warranted impeccable results.

He laughed again, although this one came out much...slower-sounding. Brian’s disdain for dorky meathead jocks was being replaced by an understanding of them. After all, these were his bros and their sense of camaraderie was unbreakable. As a senior, he was one of the strongest on the team and they all worshiped him.

But this...this wasn’t right. Brian was a scrawny goth sophomore who wanted to disappear in a crowd. But this new body and personality were the polar opposite. His sheer size and athletic prowess were impossible to ignore. He began to pace around subconsciously, transfixed on the way his body moved.

“Whuh!” Brian exclaimed as he tripped on something on the floor. He flung his arms out and caught his fall by palming the locker, which had somebody’s navy blue shirt sleeve sticking out of its closed door. When Brian stood back upright he noticed the black fabric was sticking around his wrist. When he tried to pull it off, it stuck to his arm like glue. The blue fabric then began crawling up Brian's forearm with impressive speed. A few moments later, it had reached his elbow, concealing his muscular arm in a brand new shirtsleeve. However, it didn't stop covering him up and continued to Brian's shoulders before cascading down over his bare chest. His new skin-tight workout shirt did nothing to hide Brian's beefy pecs.

“Oh shit,” Brian whispered to himself as he ran a hand over his pants. "I...I look just like a player."

Although the utterance had been subconscious, Brian found him remembering more instances where the football players turned to him for advice, like he was a mentor towards them. With each recollection, pieces of a black jersey appeared over his workout shirt. The number "5" appeared in a rich cerulean blue color in the middle of his chest. It was slightly curved over the giant breadth of Brian's pecs. The word "CHARGERS" appeared above it in the same blue color. Anyone who would've seen the impenetrable wall of uniformed muscle that was Brian would've assumed he was a football player.

“FFFFUCK!” the growing jock cussed as he placed his massive hands above his saucer-like pectorals, wasted in his masculinity. Too preoccupied with himself, he didn't notice his black satchel moving on its own. It started to contort on its own, its rectangular shape became more cylindrical and the leather material turned into nylon and polyester. Instead of schoolwork and books, the bag was now filled with Brian's change of clothes, which were nothing like his goth attire. His wardrobe was like Michael's, full of pastels and board shorts that showed off every curve of his.

The bag twitched and leaned against Brian's foot. When he looked down, he was met with a new light gray duffel bag that had the word “CHARGERS” on the side next to a cartoon lightning bolt. He smiled broadly. Even just seeing the team name excited him. He felt an odd sense of responsibility towards that name like he was a leader of it or something.

The letter "C" embroidered itself over the top left corner of his jersey, revealing the validity of that thought. When Brian looked down, his smile only broadened. He remembered that he was the team captain and the star quarterback. The Chargers were his team and he was going to lead them to glory this season. "Shiiiiit…" he muttered with disbelief as he ran his hands over his massive body, caressing every muscle of his body.

A piece of Brian hated the thought of being around football players, but another part loved it. His fear was reforming into adoration. As a captain, he was able to work with the coaches to guide his team to victory. And judging by how well the season was going so far, he was doing a great job. He inspired his teammates every day. Brian’s confidence was contagious and his devotion to the team was unyielding. He wasn't afraid of the jocks anymore. The thought of leading them was much more exhilarating.

“Looking good, Wood!” a familiar-sounding voice said. “You ready?”

“HELL YEAH!” Brian Wood replied with impressive volume. It was at that moment his black hair was saturated with gel and dyed itself blonde. Brian itched his nose, unaware that it grew slightly larger after his finger touched it. His face also resculpted itself, the boyish shape taking hold to the chiseled visage of a real meathead. At one point, Brian would’ve hated what he looked like, but that time was past. It only felt natural that his face should be much more square if he was to lead the players. His boxy face made his gaze more domineering than ever. Even Brian's forehead expanded a little wider. Everyone knew he was the team's alpha.

Unseen to him, the word “WOOD” formed in blue letters on the back of his jersey. Going to Woodside High School had been a perfect coincidence for Brian Wood. The guy was also a horny bastard who often lewdly joked about his own wood to the team. It was expected though. Men are ruled by their cocks and Brian was no different. After being around a team of equally horny guys with a similar sense of humor, they always made crude jokes about their dicks. The bulge in the team captain's pants swelled even larger, leaving no discretion that the blonde-haired dreamboat was well-endowed.

Michael Palmer walked up closer, like a prince eyeing a knight. Brian returned the wordless glance, unaware of the sensation of his chin jutting out. The star quarterback and linebacker had stellar chemistry together, they were able to be serious on the field and chummy when off of it.

"You look great," Brian blurted out. He hadn't meant to, but looking at Michael was getting him riled up. He liked the way he filled out the uniform.

"Right back at you, dude," Michael replied as he stepped right in front of Brian's face. Brian's cock twitched when he realized that he was slightly taller and now even wider than Michael. The two were so close now that they could feel each other's breath.

Instinctively, Brian touched Michael's bulge. Michael grunted a little bit and his erection twitched in Brian's hand.

Brian's cock stirred at that sound and the vulnerable look in Michael's eyes. It felt like time was frozen. Not only was he making the largest guy in school moan, but he was also getting his affection. Brian didn't even like guys, but looking at Michael's amatory expression was changing that. Michael was a macho beefcake like him who was just so sensational to look at.

Suddenly, Michael pulled him in close with impressive strength. The linebacker's lips met the star quarterback's as he tightly gripped his shoulders. Brian returned the kiss, loving the feeling of being the only guy in school larger than Michael. A fire inside the two was challenging their heterosexualities.

"Oh, Brian," Michael breathed as their kissing intensified.

Upon hearing his name, Brian felt something amiss. That name didn't sound right. It didn’t match the masculine prowess that was overtaking his brain. The newly minted football player had a rare moment of fear when he couldn’t recall what people called him.

Adrenaline coursed through the two mens' veins as they savored each other's taste and smell. Memories of a vehement relationship flooded their minds. Dating each other over the last year while playing on the team together had strengthened their bond to a level they had never imagined possible. The nameless jock's lips thickened as they pressed against Michael's. He loved Michael so much. Their love of football allowed them to properly separate their personal and professional obligations to each other. Even the team was cool with their relationship, which was so validating. The nameless jock loved his team, proud to be one of the boys when he was on the field. And at that moment, Zach Wood remembered his name. The two broke the kiss, both with a newfound and intense infatuation for one another.

“Holy shit, Michael!” Zach replied when the two pulled away. He caressed his semi-hard cock. "We need to stop doing this before practice."

"Uh-huh," Michael breathed in agreement. His heart was beating fast as he was going through his own internal turmoil. He could've sworn he had a girlfriend, but he had no idea what her name was. The harder he thought, the more memories with Zach resurfaced. They were a pair of sex-obsessed, macho jock boyfriends who couldn't get enough of each other's minds and bodies on and off the field. Their sex was tantric and their affection towards each other was unyielding.

Michael took a sip from his Gatorade bottle. The locker room was much quieter now and all of the other guys must be on the field.

"You ready, Mikey Palms?" Zach asked, nudging him with his shoulder.

"Of course babe," Michael replied as he shifted his brain to football mode. Usually, the two beefy guys were able to keep their love life away from practice time, but that was getting harder to do. They both loved seeing each other in their uniforms.

"Alright, let's head out," Zach said, excitedly heading towards the open door until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you gotta put your gym bag in your locker, ya gym bag,” Michael quipped as he spun Zach around.

"Oh right," Zach replied as he turned around to grab it off the floor. Sometimes his excitement for the sport caused him to be forgetful. He opened up his locker and placed it inside. "Alright Mikey," he said as he slapped his boyfriend’s butt. "Let's head to practice already."

Michael couldn't agree more. Although later, the two would have to pick up where they left off.

Hey man , I’m your typical good guy , with a good engineering job etc . I’m so tired of it . Can you help me live more of a dangerous thug life ??

"I wish I lived a more dangerous life."

You’re heading out the front door to go to work when the genie walks by. He’s a thuggish guy with a sneer on his face, covered in tattoos. With a flick of his hand, the spell is cast. You feel a sharp pain on your lower belly, and when you pull up your shirt to see, there’s a tattoo there, faded like you got it months ago.

Well, you think to yourself, you never specified how much more dangerous your life would become. You tuck your shirt back in, a bit disappointed.

As you sit down on the bus, you feel another stinging sensation rise up to the base of your pecs. As it does, the fabric of your shirt seems to dissolve until you’re wearing a high crop top. It reveals a tattoo of butterfly wings growing over your chest. As it rises higher, the fabric of your shirt parts and eventually dissolves into nothing.

Some young guy in a suit sitting next to you frowns at your shirtlessness, and you bare your teeth at him. He backs down immediately. Yeah, you can be fucking threatening when you wanna be. Still, he’s kinda cute…

As tattoos of a nebula stretch down your arm, you slowly reach out and put your arm around the guy’s shoulders. At first, he seems confused and disturbed, but he calms at your touch, giving you a goofy grin as his suit dissolves. Tats bloom across his body, and his hair frizzes up with streaks of bright pink through the dark locks. His tongue piercing looks so hot as he lolls his tongue out at you, you just gotta kiss him.

When you step off the bus with your new buddy, the two of you have complementary sets of tattoos and matching shorts. He follows you into the nearest alley and gets on his knees. Like your tattoo says, it won’t suck itself. After you drop a load, the two of you step onto your skateboards and head off to find some more members for the gayest new gang in town.

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.

Cursed

I had a family problems growing up. I had lots of siblings and most of them were gang members and my parents never brought me anything cool and so I gained the habit to steal valuables to sell and get money from. Like the other day, I saw this beautiful purse and I could tell this old woman was filthy rich, when she sat down, I noticed she was waiting for her bus. I waited until it was a perfect time and went for it and soon. She had her phone in her hand and was dialing the police and while the phone was ringing I could see her screaming some words that I couldn’t make out.

I ran into an alleyway and I went throw here purse I could see many items that looked extremely expensive and old. I had finally hit the jackpot. One thing caught my attention when I began searching through the bag, it was this necklace. It felt like it was speaking to me. When I grabbed it cold metal, I could feel shivers that ran up my spine, as I place it over my neck. I could feel the pleasure of this being around my neck.

Soon I heard the sound of police cars. I couldn’t cause myself to move and run. The car parked right up to the alleyway and they saw me standing, I began to feel the motion of my body as I began to move. But right before I could he grabbed my arm and pulled towards his car. I couldn’t do anything at this point as was already in the hands of this muscular man. I tried to run, but I didn’t work. My body was so small compared to his.

The officer reached in his pockets for his handcuffs, but before he could something strange grew in my chest. Everything began to slow around us as I could feel this warm energy coming from him. I could feel this mans big body pull towards me. I could feel his warms and his sweat possibly from working out all getting sucked into my weak body. I couldn’t handle it as his big arm began to sink through. His pecs began to enter me as I moan with pleasure. I could see the officers look as his screams weakened. Soon his other arms began to enter my body. Soon nothing was left of him as I could feel this great wave of greatness come through me.

I didn’t understand what happened and looked at the necklace and it was glowing. I could feel the heat coming out of it. I soon realized that everything around me made me want to faint. I soon was about to throw up as I looked to the cop car and heard the noise of the radio ringing for the officer. I couldn’t catch up to it as they were already sending back up. I tried to run, but the necklace burned my chest as I didn’t want to move again.

I soon couldn’t take it as my body began to grow taller. My pants began to rip. I could do anything as my pants were completely torn off. I could do anything about it as my legs muscles began to twitch and grow. My body could do anything. My pain white skin began to darken as my body twitched all over the place. My ass began to grow in any way as I could feel my face change as my check bones popped out. I tried to take off the necklace but my mind didn’t let me control myself. Small little hairs began to show on my face as my eyebrows grow thicker and darker.

My ass began to shake itself and it felt good as I could feel it balloon up even more. My arms began to grow bigger and bigger. My pecs began to bounce and soon and began to form as I could feel become harder. My average sized dick became so big it looked like it was becoming 12 inches erected. My arms wouldn’t stop and my chest continued as my mind began to change. My family wasn’t some piece of shit that never love me, instead, I lived in a rich home with my two parents. Soon my became hard as black hairs began to appear all over it as soon my blonde hair changed to become darker. My balls were so full of semen I had to empty. My short was looking like a tight tank top and soon my briefs looked like some small speedo that made my ass look big. My mind was becoming different that my mind wasn’t for women it was for men.

Soon my body was able to move. My mind was still changing as I was now a hot rich Mexican because of my parents adopting me at a young age and me becoming a police officer and meeting my boyfriend. Soon another car pulled up and looked at me with a smirk and a wink as I could tell this was my boyfriend and soon the purse and my ripped pants disappeared, as I could tell my boyfriend was happy for me to find a dark alley with no one to see us having sex. I could tell what I was wearing made him get turned on.

Well, looks like my me body will get any guy having an orgasm for days when I have sex with them. And I am glad I look like this now.

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.

The Resort: A Void To Fill

I desperately needed a vacation. My girlfriend had left me a couple of months ago, cheating on me with someone else because I was not giving her enough attention, she said, sinking me into a vortex of sadness. I had been trying to distract myself with work, but to no avail; instead, my boss was forcing me to stay late to work almost every day, making me feel even worse. Let's not talk about friends: I had neglected them too much over the years to go back to them as if nothing had happened; they had their own lives now and I was not part of them. I felt an empty void growing inside me, the lack of something I could not explain, and I needed time to reflect. So I decided to book a vacation; I saw the ad online, it called for a week-long stay at a resort in the Caribbean, in a very exclusive and private place, at a decidedly high price. Although I was a bit skeptical, the reviews intrigued me. All the guests who went to the resort were talking about how the stay had changed their lives, giving them a unique experience that made them return home with no more sad thoughts. I figured it might be just right for me. Upon payment, I was informed that in order to enter, one had to undergo a series of surveys and psychological tests. According to the resort's logic, the results would be used to ensure the best possible experience. I gladly accepted, it all seemed very professional, and even if they were going to sell my data after that, I felt so exhausted that I had nothing to lose.

After a few weeks I arrived: the resort was indeed as it appeared from the photos. A large central building with a majestic lobby, fancy restaurants, and shiny pools, while the rooms were spread out in a large park filled with palm trees and tropical flowers, each with everything needed for a fabulous stay. At the front desk my bags were handed over to an attendant to take to my room, while I was given all the necessary directions about the resort. In addition to pointing me to all the facilities and handing me the key card to my accommodation, the concierge also handed me a rubber bracelet, yellow in color. He told me that it served to distinguish me from other customers based on the results of the surveys taken at the booking. Without asking for further explanation, I complimented him on his professionalism and headed for the beach as fast as I could; the only thing I wanted was to lie down and sunbathe in peace. After about 20 minutes, I was finally one with the beach chair. The sun warmed my skin as the tropical wind lulled me…I felt at peace. I was already anticipating spending a whole week like this when I heard a voice. - "Hey, buddy!"

I played dumb. I could not tolerate being disturbed. Maybe they were calling another person. - "Hey man! I'm talking to you!"

I turned around. A man was calling me. He was leaning against a palm tree, his body sun-kissed, a tattoo all along his left arm, his abs sculpted. He looked to be about the same age as me, but he was definitely taller. He looked at me intently. I couldn't help but notice that he was wearing a bracelet the same color as mine. I raised my hand, as if to greet him friendly, while he approached at a run. His stride was athletic, revealing how well-trained and fit he was. He got on the beach chair next to mine, taking a seat. He wouldn't stop staring at me. - "Hey bro, I've been looking all over for you! Then luckily the concierge told me you were at the beach! You finally came!"

I couldn't figure it out. Why was he calling me bro? What was all this confidence, his friendly way of talking…and most importantly, why was he looking for me! He understood that I was puzzled. He lifted his arm, showing me the bracelet. - "That's what I'm talking about, bro. We're a match! I also arrived this morning, and I was immediately alerted that there was someone else with the same bracelet as me! That's why I'm here!"

I told him I didn't understand what was going on, I hadn't been alerted to anything. He told me not to worry, it must have been a carelessness on the part of the concierge. Initially I was suspicious, but the more he talked to me, the more comfortable I felt. Apparently, we were kindred spirits. We spent an hour talking about this and that; he told me his name was Max and that he too was in the same situation as me, a broken romance, a lonely, hectic life in the offices of a large corporation. He told me that he was lonely, without someone to give affection to, without a purpose. Suddenly he seemed like the right person to spend time with in this week.

So when he asked me to go for a swim, I accepted without making him tell me again. I quickly realized that he was much better at sports than I was, truly a born athlete. That was why, perhaps pitied by my sporting inability, Max decided to give me some suggestions on how to improve my swimming style. Thus we found ourselves alone, offshore, and very close. Our legs, moving under the surface, took to brushing against each other as he took my arms with his firm hands, helping me learn the correct arm stroke. I felt good, happy…I would almost say cared for. For a reason I could not understand, the contact between our bodies made my penis hard. When I realized this, I pulled away quickly. Max stood looking at me, his intense clear eyes focused on me. - "Did I do something wrong?"

I wanted to tell him no, that it was okay, that it had been meaningless. Panicked, I did not notice the bracelets on our wrists glowing with a faint yellow light. For some reason, my mouth could not stay shut, and I told him so. I told him I had gotten an erection. He looked at me stricken, then approached me again until our faces were inches apart. - "Don't worry, I think it's perfectly natural after all. It can happen when you haven't been intimate with someone for so long."

His speech did not seem to make much sense to me, but after a few seconds of confusion I found it convincing. Maybe it really was as Max said. He smiled at me and I returned the smile. Just then, the sun was obscured by the clouds, a sudden storm was approaching. Max took my arm and gestured for me to come back in. - "Come on, let's go back inside. If you like we can go to my place, I have the jacuzzi and we can get a couple of beers from the mini bar."

I agreed, even though I had the same amenities in the room. It was when we arrived at the door, having escaped the downpour for a few seconds, that we realized something was wrong. The concierge had given us the same room. A strong anger rose in me and I made to leave, but Max grabbed my arm. - "Hey bro, calm down, where the fuck do you think you're going? There's a fucking storm going on! Come on, stay here until it gets better, we'll have a chance to discuss this room issue later."

He was right, going to complain now was perfectly useless. Besides, I was so comfortable with him that the resolution of this problem could really be postponed. We then stood drinking a beer watching the tropical storm raging outside as the jacuzzi heated up and began to produce bubbles. I suddenly felt cold. I thought I saw our bracelets light up, but maybe it was just lightning in the distance, or some kind of optical effect. Just then, out of nowhere, Max put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. I felt discomfort, but it lasted only a few moments. The warmth of his body was so pleasant and enveloping that I melted and leaned my head against it. He was perfectly sculpted, his massive chest a perfect pillow. I sought his gaze; he found mine. I don't know how many seconds passed, but it seemed like an eternal moment. My heart was beating wildly, my cock was getting hard again, much harder than before. I read in his eyes the same sensations I was experiencing. Without being in control of myself, I began to touch him with one hand, passing one by one the muscles of his body, his pecs, each abdominal, never taking my eyes off his face. Caught up in the moment, I did not notice that I had gone too low. I felt something hard in his costume, and it didn't take me long to realize what it was. I immediately stopped touching him, and walked away under the pretense of having to throw away the beers, snatching even his empty bottle from his hands. I felt my face burning with embarrassment and went to the sink to wash my face and recover. What was I doing? Without looking at him again, I grabbed a t-shirt and made to leave, but his voice called me back and I suddenly stopped. - "Hey, you're going already?"

He was in the jacuzzi, showing me one of his biceps. Foam covered the surface of the water, but I quickly realized he was naked. I was about to retort, but the armband lit up again. I had no chance to reflect on it. My arms had already dropped my shirt and I was taking off my underwear, showing Max my erect cock, without feeling the slightest shame. My feet, without my control, entered the warm water of the jacuzzi. At that point my mind collapsed. I felt my lips relax into a big smile, all tension disappear. I sat next to Max and looked at him dreamily, entranced. His lips moved, stammering with desire.

- "Hey…bro…no, sorry…b-b-b…babe…k-k-kiss me."

I didn't let him tell me twice. I slipped my tongue into his mouth as his powerful arms held me. The warm water lulled our making out bodies, the foam resting on Max's perfect muscles as I touched every inch of his back and chest. Beneath the surface, I could clearly feel his manhood. As our legs intertwined, our penises slammed into each other making me acutely aware that Max, in perfect harmony with his statuesque body, had a huge cock. For a few moments I still felt embarrassment at the thought of his hard penis, but it was short-lived. It was enough to meet his gaze again to convince me that everything was completely fine. He smiled at me. - "I would go take a shower, to get rid of this foam. How about following me, babe?"

He told me, giving me a wink, and then stepped out of the water. When he stood up, I finally saw his cock. Not only was it straight as a spear, but it was really long and big. Mine wasn't doing too badly, but his looked to me like a Guinness World Record-sized shaft. I didn't think that maybe, porn excluded, I had never seen another man's erect dick in my life. I stared at him, as one and only one thought invaded my mind, and our bracelets pulsed with light again. I had to touch him, I had to swallow him, I had to have him mine. He walked away toward the shower, and I followed him as if under a spell, my eyes focused on his toned ass.

With each step I took, an intuition grew stronger. The emptiness I felt inside me was in the shape of Max's cock. Having that penis inside me was the only key to happiness - it was obvious. As the first drops of water began to fall on his perfect body from the shower head, I fell to my knees and stood before the monster Max had between his legs. His cock slammed into my face and I smelled it. I was uncontrollable: my mouth opened and began to swallow his huge shaft.

I choked a few times, but I couldn't resist: one swipe on my tongue had made me realize that this cock tasted the best I could imagine. Letting out soft, manly moans, Max took my head with one hand and guided me carefully, preventing me from running out of breath again. Our gazes crossed as the drops of water fell on my face and his sculpted body. The more I looked at him, the more aroused I became: I threw one of my hands over him, brushing against his wet chest. In that instant he exploded in my mouth. Like a volcanic eruption, his cock pulsed between my lips as hot streams flowed down my throat. His white semen, mixed with the water that drenched my face, began to drip from my mouth as we were both in ecstasy. I pulled his penis out of my mouth, looked at it again, and stunned remained on my knees as Max ran his hand through my hair. - "Babe, you are such a lecherous little slut. I didn't expect that."

His words were the icing on the cake. I took my penis with my free hand, while with the other I still enjoyed the feel of his wet body. Within seconds I came on his legs, my seed dripping onto his calves and ankles, ending up in the shower drain. As soon as I caught my breath, he grabbed my chin with his hand and forced me to look at him.

- "Now finish washing and then come over there. I'll be waiting for you to feel my hard cock again."

A shiver ran down my spine, my penis became turgid with excitement again. Obediently, I got up as Max got out of the shower and left me the free space to wash myself. I cleaned my body well, especially my anus, not knowing why, as if it was an instinct I could not control. The bracelet was constantly glowing by now, but I didn't give it any more thought. I came out of the bathroom clean as Max had asked. I found him sitting on the couch. He was flexing his biceps, showing me his strength. Nothing more needed to be said.

I got down on my knees in front of him, my face in front of his underwear. I licked the fabric of his boxers, letting my saliva soak into them. I slipped my tongue into his groin, trying to move past it, grazing his ball sack. My nose was filled with his manly scent; my mouth wanted nothing more than to taste his giant penis again. I could feel it throbbing, aroused as never before. Max, however, did not seem to flinch; he continued to stare at me, but I sensed something now that was not there before. His eyes were fierce and tender at the same time, filled with the desire to possess me. I was his thing. I heard a voice inside me, like a memory from the past, an echo telling me that I should not be there, that I was not like that. I got up suddenly, to leave, as if I had suddenly awakened from sleep. - "Are you really going to leave me here like this, babe?"

As my back was already turned in the direction of the exit, I felt the elastic of his panties move. I stopped. His cock. His huge penis was the only one that could make me feel good. Why was I leaving? I turned around again and saw him standing, facing me, his muscles always in view with a dominant air.

I moved closer, coming within a few inches of him, then stood on tiptoe and putting my arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. Then I brought one arm down to touch his cock. Max moaned in a vigorous, primal way. He took that hand and squeezed my wrist hard, then dragged me into the bedroom. He threw me onto the sheets. I, as if it were natural, turned on my stomach, lifting my legs and showing him my freshly washed anus.

When he entered my ass without finding the slightest resistance, intuition came to be awareness. As his cock brought me pleasure like never before in my life, I sensed pure joy, total ecstasy. There was no more emptiness inside me, no sadness, just the happiness of being his little slut. The little bitch of a stallion who had found his purpose again. In his gaze indeed, as he gripped my hips and penetrated me savagely, I could read the same overwhelming ecstasy, the same joy I was feeling. He came inside me like a wild beast, as if I were his own female to impregnate, letting out animalistic cries as I too sprayed my belly with my seed. Then he collapsed on top of me completely satisfied, our sweaty bodies in need of a shower again.

We ended up ordering room service and ate it naked and entwined on the bed. The storm was over and evening was falling on the resort. We spent the night telling each other about our lives, discovering that we were more and more like-minded and full of things in common. Before finally going to sleep, I decided that my stud deserved another blowjob. This time I did not let go of a drop of his precious and delicious seed.

We fell asleep in each other's arms, happy as never before, exhausted and glad to have found each other. The bracelets, lit with yellow light until a few hours before, were slowly fading. I don't remember what I dreamed that night, but when I woke up I found him sitting beside the bed. He was wearing only his underwear. His clear eyes penetrated me.

- "Good morning, my little whore. Would you like some breakfast?"

And as he took off his briefs to show me his wonderful, huge cock, I plunged out of bed, ready to take it between my lips again.

H for Henry?

Monday morning. I'm supposed to go on a date with a girl I met on Tinder tomorrow. As an asian geek with no amazing body, nor something other people would find attractive with, I wanted to look good on my very first date.

My roommate, Henry, was kind and supportive for it. He's very fond of dressing well so he did all he could to make sure I will look great when I finally meet the girl, and so he let me borrow some of his clothes.

He helped me get dressed. After wearing it all up, he decided to add finishig touches. He pulled a necklace from his pocket and handed it over to me.

"H?" I asked, "Wouldn't it be weird if she sees me with an initial of your name, Henry?"

"That's not really what the H is for. Just try it out, Dennis, and let's see." He replied

As soon as I wore his necklace, I started to feel an impressively pleasurable feeling that washed down my body. At first, it just feel as if I'm all relaxed, but when I sat down on the bed, my whole body started to feel so sensitive. Even just my skin feeling the confines of my clothes sends shivers down my spine. Sooner or later, I felt my cock tent. I realized then that I'm so horny. My hands moved to paw on my errection as it started to grow. My other hand felt up inside the shirt I was wearing to tease my nipple, realizing that my chest is starting to lose fat and get replaced by muscles.

I looked at Henry as he moved closer to me.

"H can mean a lot of thing, but one things for sure." Henry grabbed my chin to make me look directly into his eyes.

"Horny."

I groaned as I felt more uncontrollable lust wash all over me.

"and the other would be..." He pulled my face near him, matching our lips as they level to each other.

"Himbo."

It's like a command. As soon as he said that, my mind cleared out. I couldn't help but just give a smirk as I feel my horniness rise up with Henry in front of me.

"Mmhmmm, broooo...." I groaned as I started to feel more muscles begin to fill up the clothes he made me wore. I couldn't think if anything else but to get some tight pussy to fuck. God, I can't wait to hook up with that girl tomorrow.

"Hairy." He added.

My face started to get itchy and my right hand that I was using to play with my nipple rose up to sratch it, feeling my facial hair fill up to a trimmed beard. My chest also filled up with hair as the thin ones on my arms and legs started to thicken.

"Homo." He finished

My eyes widened. At first, I wanted to push bro away because he called me a Homo, but isn't he right?

"Bro.... You're so.... close..."

"Yeah? Watchu gonna do about it, big guy?"

With his fingers still on my chin, he pulled me in for a kiss. I returned back, giving him the deepest kiss. He climed up the bed, spreading my legs and his legs in between mine. As we kiss, we starting taking off each other's clothes. Well, isn't what I'm wearing also his? Haha.

I feel his hard cock grinding against mine through each other's pants. We broke the kiss for a bit so we can take each other's pants off.

"God, bro... You're hugeeee..." I trailed off, looking at his cock.

"You're 'Hung' too, big guy." He winked at me, and soon, like a command, my cock started to grow bigger too. I moaned loud as I gripped on it, growing from its 5 inch to an 8.

Henry dove back and continued kissing me. His hand now gripping on my cock. His kisses went down to my neck, then to my nipples. Goddd! I'm so sensitive! He's jerking me off while licking my tits! His cock, softing poking my ass.

"Fuck, bro... I want you..." I moaned.

"Yeah, big guy?" Henry said in between kisses.

"Fuck me, bro. I want your dick in my ass."

Henry didn't have to be told twice. He pulled my legs on top of his shoulders, and soon, he was pushing his cock in me.

"Ooohhhh, broooo! That's soooo....." I groaned as he slowly pushed it.

"You're so tight, big boy!" Henry said.

"Fuck me hard, now. I want it bro!"

"Yeah? You want it hard?"

"Make me bust my nut!"

Henry moved in, pushing hard, then back out. Slow at first, but soon he was fucking me like a crazy. His cock, making it all feel good inside. His hand on my cock.

He was so good, he was kissing me while he fuck my wits out. God, I'm so horny and gay for my bro.

"Bro! Bro! I'm...!"

"Yeah? Let it out, big buy!"

"Fuckkk!"

"I'm close too- I'm!"

Henry pulled out, jerking both of our cocks. Then our gate just bursted open and we came at the same time. His cum mixing with mine as we emptied out our balls all over my abs and chest.

"G-God, bro... That's so goood..."

Henry fell on top of me, our cum smearing all over our bodies. We hugged each other as our lust subsided.

"Wish that wouldn't be the last time, bro..." I whispered into his ear.

"Me too..." Henry said, his arms tightening up around me. "I've always liked you and I don't wanna let some girl take you away."

I took a deep breath. Henry's sudden confession didn't feel too bad. If I'll be honest, I started to feel more comfortable now. Realizing what magic he did to me, I don't think I mind. Henry's a nice guy. He did a lot for me. It might've been he change, but I remember telling my best bro that I would go out with him if I was gay. I hold onto the necklace and thought of something.

"We can make it last forever, you know." I said.

"How?" He lifted himself off, looked at me in the eyes.

I took the necklace off and wore it around his neck.

"H-...." I hesitated, being a himbo now kinda made me forget the right word.

"Husband."

Henry's eyes widened as we feel our new wedding rings appear on our fingers.

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.

Machismo Musk

Finishing up his skincare routine Valentino smeared his face mask over his already supple skin. Waiting to be able to wipe it off he pulled out his phone and began planning the next time him and his best friend can go hangout again! Opening his texts he sees that he has left his best friend on delivered, looking at the text from Edgar it read, “Yo Val! We gotta hang again bro! I met this guy at the gym today and I think he can really help you get out there again!”. It was odd to Valentino that Edgar was calling him Val and bro, but Edgar was right, ever since Valentino and his boyfriend split three months ago he hasn’t put himself back out there at all. “Okieeee” Valentino texted back, “just tell me when he is free and I'll be there”. Within seconds Edgar responded with “Dudeeee he is free tmrr! Shld I give him your addy”, being more weirded out by his language but thinking it's just a bit, Valentino tells Edgar to give the guy his address and tell him to come over at one tomorrow afternoon.

Hearing the knock at his door Valentino lifted himself out of his bed and looked at the clock. “Weird” he thought to himself “it's barely even 11:00 A.M. I wonder who that could be”. Rubbing his eyes he got up and went to the door not bothering to brush his teeth or really do anything to get ready, expecting it to be a package or just some kid being a punk. Opening the door he was met face to face, or really face to pecs, with a hunk of a man standing on his welcome mat.

A little shocked Valentino asked hastily “Who are you!?”, “Wow don’t sound too excited to see me brochacho” the hunky man said, “Im Angel! Your friend…uhhh Edgar told me to come here!” Angel said with enthusiasm in his voice. “Uhhhhh Angel is it…yea it’s nice to meet you but you are two hours earlier…”, “Oh am I?”Angel responded earnestly, “I thought you wanted me to come over at eleven.”, “No no no, I told Edgar to send you at one o’clock”. Valentino corrected. “Oh my god Im so sorry” Angel apologized “I’m horrible with numbers and you know Edgar huhuhuh, he is utterly simple-minded…more so than me huhuh!” Angel chuckled out. “What are you talking about? Edgar is one of the smartest guys I know” Valentino questioned, assuming that Angel had mixed two guys up in his own head. “Well are you gonna make me wait here for two hours?,” Angel asked rhetorically, completely ignoring your question. Not want to seem rude on the first meeting

Valentino invited him in, bringing him inside and shutting the front door. Valentino asked as they still stood next to the front door, “Oh do you mind taking your shoes off here?”, “Oh you don’t want me to do that little broooo!” Angel responded.

Slowly Valentino could, as if on cue, smell a masculine funk began to fill the room, contaminating the air with a stale, musty smell.. Valentino, trying not to cover his nose or bring out the Febreze, told the potential partner “You came so early haha I didn’t have time to get ready! I will be back. Do you mind waiting here?”, “What didn’t you do? You look ready to me?” Angel said with a hint of a flirty tone. “Oh ya know I ummm…didn’t get to brush my teeth or wash my face or even put on any deodorant…hahaha” Valentino let out a laugh trying to hide his embarrassment “I promise i'm normally more put together”. Angel responded with all seriousness and said “I don’t mind huhuhuh. If it makes you feel better I never wear deodorant” Lifting up his arm and exposing his hairy and damp cavern of musk. Not being able to contain his gagging, the miasma of B.O. began pumping into the room and into his nose. Between an orchestra of gags, Valentino tried to excuse himself once more, “I want to get uhhhh nice and get ready for you…”. Seeing through this white lie grabbed the back of Valentino’s head and muttered, “It’s rude to react like that. It’s time to help you realize the beauty of tapping into your inner machismo”. Valentino tried to pull away, confused by what this stinking hunk was saying, “What the fuc-?” Valentino’s profane response to Angel’s comment was interrupted by a face full of sweaty, pungent, armpit hair. Being pulled into the source of Angel’s “machismo musk” as he would call it, Valentino’s brain immediately fogged up making him weak and incapable of thinking rationally or with any semblance of his normal intellect.

As Valentino pummeled Angel's torso with blinded, wild blows, his already weak punches grew weaker and weaker with every second in the pit. At the same time Angel could hear Valentino’s confused, angry, mumbling slowly fade at the same time. By the time 30 seconds had passed, all that Valentino could say in protest was a light moan that was still an arduous task for his musk filled mind, and all he could do was gently raise his hand and push back with so little force that he couldn’t even be able to push around a piece of paper if he tried. Feeling what felt like growing pains in his feet Valentino let out a loud groan which swiftly dulled into a soft, constant, moan. Valentino felt his feet begin to crack as if the bones were breaking and shifting, he felt as his toes were being forced outwards and the soles of his feet began to grow larger both in width and length. Valentino incapable of picking up on any scent other than Angel’s B.O. could only feel the changes not smell them, but Angel could smell a cloud of buttery funk mixed with the smell of fermented cheese rise and help fill the room. Valentino began to feel his legs inflate, leaving him with nice, tight calves and two massive thunder thighs. Like any good himbo Valentino felt his perky little twink ass inflate into two pillows which jiggle and bounce with every step. Angel had to lift his arm a little higher and take a step back for the newly acquired height of the 6’1 Latino. Valentino felt the readjustment and unconsciously made sure his own nose never left or got too far from the source of the funky scent. Feeling a rumbling in his gut Valentino felt his tiny little gut and naturally cinched looking waist expand and turn into a stomach with the making of a 6 pack but with a nice, soft, layer of fat keeping the chiseled statue still encased in a little bit of marble. His pecs began, much like his ass, to inflate without his permission or full knowledge as they became a gorgeous rack of pure man mass.

The next transformation happened to his arms, becoming nice, soft, tendrils of unthreatening muscles but as soon as he flexes the soft edges harden into sharp, cutting muscles. Above the transformation in his arm, his armpits became much like Angel’s, filled with a foul-smelling, putrid, jungle of long dark hair, absolutely contaminating what little fresh air was left in the apartment. The final changes came in the form of his face growing a bit more masculine and alluring, stubble growing in and his hair shortening a little.

Being pulled out of the malodorous prison that just turned the neat and clean twink into an unhygienic and dirty himbo, Valentino caught his breath. Looking at the work of art in front of him Angel asked “How are you feeling bro?” and in a much deeper voice that shocked Valentino he replied with “W…what did you…do to me?”. Angel, needing to finish the newly minted himbo’s transformation, brought Valentino over to the couch and sat him down and then saddled on top of Valentino’s hips, trapping him in place. “Shhhhh you will be finished soon, pretty boy,” Angel said. Hearing the words “pretty boy” dance out of his mouth, felt like a static shock swept through Valentinos brain, assisting the dissipating B.O. that was keeping Valentino dazed during the transformation. As the static shock shot from ear to ear he felt his own head fall back against the couch and his mouth become unbarred of his lips and be left agape, losing the power to keep his lips fully shut. Angel, knowing that it is time to complete the sweaty hunk he is mounting, removes his sneaker, brings it up to his own nose and takes a whiff.

Shuttering out of pure pleasure and excitement Angel moans out “I stink so goddamn good! You’re gonna love this part dude!”. Lowering the shoe over Valentino’s face, covering his mouth and nose with the outpouring of foot funk rapidly escaping from the heavily used shoe, Angel watches as Valentino’s eyes roll into the back of his skull as if he is trying to watch his own brain transform. The stench, bolting out, trying to escape the shoe that kept it trapped like a genie in a lamp, forced its way out of the shoe to find a new home. Being met with an open mouth and two nostrils the rank air shot into Valentino’s lungs and brain. In his brain Valentin felt as his thinking got, somehow, even slower, he could feel his thoughts, starting from his most recent, begin to evaporate into the stench. As the wave of foot funk continued to alter Valenti’s mind he could feel his years of going to bookstores and quaint little cafés with Edgar turn into years constantly hitting the gym and playing soccer with Edgar. Valent felt the memories of learning how to take care of himself and keep a neat ship from his loving sisters turn into him and his brothers leaving dirty laundry everywhere, ripping ass constantly in each other's faces, overflowing their kitchen sink with dishes and passively hotboxing their rooms with their own foul funk. Helping tutor kids after school while Valen was in High School turned into needing to get a tutor for every subject, no one would take him because they couldn’t bear the stench. All of these memories of being a responsible, smart, and clean functioning member of society turned into memories of an irresponsible, total airhead of a jock who only filled his head with the scent of him dutch ovening himself for fun and the funk of his never washed armpits or feet. Vale struggled as he tried desperately to hold onto his memories but for whatever reason these new stink filled memories seemed just so much better in every way, life was easier, simpler, he loved hanging with his best bro Edgar even more, and he never needed to clean up after himself. I mean if he or his friends didn’t mind the stink constantly hanging in his apartment, and knowing that his friends amplify the stink whenever they come over he knew they didn’t mind one bit, then why would he need to get rid of his own hard work? And Val never got rid of his “hard work”, all over his apartment layed piles of damp piles of clothes that stink to high heaven, and the stupefying scent of the shoe rack at the front door will make sure that any non-jock coming in, or even any jock coming in, will leave a little bit stupider. Whenever Val has a guy over he always gets a little annoyed when the twink he takes home won't stop complaining about the lingering smell but he doesn’t mind it anymore because he knows that just one whiff of his bedroom will render their minds incapable of thinking of words for at least an hour.

Angel feeling a wet spot spread out across Val’s crotch knew that Valentino was never coming back, Val was here to stay. Removing his other shoe and throwing them both on the ground at the foot of the couch, Angel got off of Val and sat next to him with his arm around Val’s shoulder. “You and your friend Edgar transformed nicely into your true, machismo forms.” Angel mumbled to himself. Angel then asked you “Hey bro after we fuck do you have any twinks that I can uhhhh…help realize their true potential.” “Uhhhhhhhhh” Val thought for a long time trying to get a thought to bubble through, “Oh! My friend Bruno is single right now!”, “Perfect. Text him and say that I will take him out tomorrow at 1:00” Angel requested of his new macho gym bro.

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.

Possession isn't easy. The act requires strong emotion to fuel the take-over. At long last, I was able to achieve the difficult feat in an old run-down gym in my former neighborhood. I watched them take my gym in what was now deemed the "undesirable" part of town and gentrify it into a new, exclusive "workout spa". A rage was brewing inside me after several years now of silently witnessing the rich pretentiousness, white grievance and pervasive sexism constantly inhabiting the locker room. I snapped when overheard three trust-fund bros recount their most recent homophobic hate crime from the night before. That swell of emotion was what I needed to take over one of these bastards and flex my phantasmic powers.

Fueled by rage, I rush at the one named Kyle and become lodged inside his body. He doubles over as his consciousness becomes intertwined with mine. His body cracks and shifts as his musculature redistributes from a body that was worked endlessly on upper body bulk to one that was the result of balanced focus on definition with nicely built thighs to support a tight ass. Tattoos bloom on Kyle's skin as he stands back up straighter, taller.

Kyle's bros are shaken by the sudden transformation of their comrade. They are struck by a pang of dread as they see the cocky and hungry look develop across my face as I take full control of my new vessel. One final change catches me off guard—I involuntarily tilt my new head back and moan as pleasure overtakes my new body. My new bros can only stare as my junk fills my jock strap pouch to the brim: dick growing, balls swelling, all while unlocking new levels of sensitivity. My pheramone kicks in, putting the bros in front of me into a trance. They're not going anywhere.

The wave ebbs and I look over Brad and David. It won't be long before I've transformed them into my new gay, sweaty, jock boyfriends who will help me mold this exclusive "fitness spa" into my new harem.

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.

You Have No Choice

I laughed in Jake’s face as he told me I should consider joining the football team. No way was that going to happen. I prefer studying and using my free time to play video games. Every single one of those guys believed in hard work and being social. That just wasn’t how I was built nor what I wanted. “Benjamin, this isn’t a request,” he said to me. The audacity of him trying to bully me into joining was laughable as I turned to leave. Jake’s strong hand grabbed my shoulder, as I turned back to him a rag went over my face. The lockers around me began to fade as I inhaled the sweet aroma. The last thing I remember was him smiling before the hall went dark. 

The pungent aroma of smelling salts awoke me later. It made my lungs burn, I coughed and groaned trying to stand up. I grunted feeling my hands bound tight. “Jake,” I spat. “Let me go I swear to god.” Jake gave me a wicked smile and sat on my chest. He called his team in, one by one they filtered in from every angle. Ice ran through my veins as fear spread throughout my limbs. I wracked my brain watching them file in, trying to figure out if I’d wronged them. My attention was drawn away as a shimmering object swung back and forth. It took a moment to focus on it before I could tell it was Jake swinging the coaches whistle like a pendulum. 

“Benjamin Arthur Wild, you’re feeling sleepy and relaxed.” His voice was monotone, and all I did was laugh. Jake thought they could hypnotize me; what a crock. His teammates forced me to watch it, one held my head still while another forced my eyes to remain open. As I watched it swing back and forth my muscles relaxed and I felt groggy as my body became heavier. The lights in the locker room were getting brighter, blinding me. The last thing I remembered was having nonsense whispered in my ear before losing consciousness. 

Jake watched Benjamin go limp on the bench. “Bring it. He’s ready.” Jake began to whisper plays in Benjamin’s ear using his words to plant a seed deep into his subconscious. “Benjamin, when I snap my fingers you will wake up, but with I give you the commands you will do as you’re told.” He waited until he heard Benjamin murmur an affirmative before snapping his fingers.

Something woke me from a pleasant slumber, my eyes slowly focused staring at the bright lights in the ceiling. Two linebackers started to untie my restraints as Jake watched. “Feeling better?” He asked, as the two linebackers helped me up to a sitting position. I felt out of place and all I could do was just nod while I rubbed my wrists from the restraints. 

“I’m going to go,” I said with a shaky voice, but he said stay, and I felt compelled to stay suddenly. 

“You know Benjamin, your arms are looking a little weak. You should pack on some muscle.” My head lifted when he said muscle. I immediately grabbed the dumbbells sitting right next to the bench doing bicep curls. My muscles ached as I pushed them past their limits. I saw that the weights I was lifting, they weighed far more than I should’ve been capable of handling. Fifty pounds was a lot, Jake realized I was struggling because he asked for someone to bring out the protein powder. 

I saw them mix it up. The chalky mixture was disgusting. I didn’t want to even let it near my mouth, but Jake convinced me by just saying the word drink. No questions asked, I grabbed it and downed it. It was gritty, and my face showed my disgust, but I finished every last drop. The guys smiled seeing I couldn’t resist. I begged for another and downed that one too. There was no stopping myself and it scared me. He commented on my muscles again and I returned to lifting. It felt easier this time. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what was going on and then it hit me. He had done it, he’d hypnotized me. He was using trigger words to get me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. 

I had to stop them. Who knows what else they could do to me. I heard another command telling me to stop. I looked up at Jake seeing a devious grin on his face. “Let me show you why you should join,” he stepped out of my way, allowing me to see myself in the mirror. The meek thin boy I once was gone. My body now filled with lean muscle, my arms defined, and a sculpted chest. I wanted to scream at them, but he gave me another command, harder. I didn’t understand what that meant, but my cock stirred inside my underwear. He said it again, harder. It was starting to hurt as my member pushed against my tight jeans begging to be freed. A couple guys decided to help as they pulled my pants down, my cock flopping out as stiff as a flagpole. Jake squatted down. “Final chance Benjamin. Join now and I’ll let you keep your mind. Fight me and you’ll be overruled.” 

I never thought he would do something like that to me, I had to fight back. I had this new stronger body and I felt like I could use it to break free. I told him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine and he just smiled. “I understand.” He reached out grabbing my cock stroking it. The guys behind me held me down, keeping me from stopping him. I felt the pressure building. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but the look he gave me told me I made the wrong choice. “Don’t worry. You’ll be happy when we’re done Ben.” My eyes went blank and my mind began to dump everything about me, my personality, my quirks, my favorite things. He turned the shorter version of my name into a trigger and it was wiping me clean.

I felt my personality, my likes, my hopes and dreams drained and deposited into the bank that was my balls. He turned the real me into spunk; spunk that he planned to blow from this built body. His hand quickened speed. My body tried to hold onto the last of what is me before giving in. I gasped as “me” blew across the room splattering across the floor. 

Jake looked at the shell of a man. He left the important stuff. All the memories, and lessons Ben would’ve learned in life, but he would rebuild Ben as a brilliant football player. He wouldn’t want to play video games and didn’t mind doing hard work. Ben would be more submissive in the locker room, but a powerhouse out on the field. He started to feed these ideas to the blank slate watching as a new personality overtook Ben until he built him back up. Ben looked up at him with a fierce stare before he returned the same cocky grin. “Bro. I’m ready to get out there and practice. You got my jersey?” Jake smiled as he handed him number 97. The guys left the locker room. Ben stepped in the spunk on the floor not aware that had been him as he headed out with his team to go practice.

Jonny Get Your Gun

While thrift shopping Jon stumbles upon an old helmet from which he will not walk away the same. Sub to dom army masculinization!

Been a while since I’ve written a military TF and after somehow getting Over There stuck in my head this happened! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

Jon and Troy were at the thrift store looking for something cute to wear to a friend’s party this weekend. The couple certainly have established wardrobes to choose from but are looking for something new, something flashy. They’re looking for something that’s just calling out to them. Never wanting to spin their wheels in place they want something to mix it up. Lo and behold as Jon makes his way to the back of the store does he find a hat doing just that, or rather a helmet.

Almost out of place on a dust-covered in the back of the store, rack Jon’s interest is immediately piqued by the army helmet. Nearing it his mind shuffles through thoughts, each one drawing him closer and compelling him to just go ahead and try the helmet on. Camo is chic right now, surely this would be just the kind of quirky experimental look they’re going for. At the very least Jon can’t help but grin at what Troy’s reaction will be when he sees Jon do a little campy salute wearing it.

With a slightly scheming grin Jon’s hands grasp at the helm, ignoring the pleasant warmth as it sits in his fingers as he hoists it onto his head. Heavier than he thought it would be, he thinks before everything around him goes silent. For but a moment he is alone with his thoughts, he hasn’t even enough time to notice that his priorities have immediately realigned before the buzz of the outside world returns. Jon shakes his head presuming that to have been his ears popping as he returns to his business, only briefly struggling to recall what that business was.

He would almost forget the helmet was on his head were it not for the soothing comfort it offers. Scratching his thin chest as he pushes it lower on his head before seeing his boyfriend and lighting up. Jon quickly aways to meet his Troy standing at a rack of tacky clothing that he for some reason he can’t bring himself to care about. He almost laughs as he sees his boyfriend pull out a technicolor blouse, presuming it to be some kind of joke. Forgetting his own plan of using the helmet as a joke he greets his love.

“Troyyy, surely you’re not wearing that yeah?” His boyfriend turns and holds up the certainly eye-catching silk blouse with a sarcastic scoff, “Ugh! I thought it was cute!” He does a brief pose with it and Jon laughs transparently judgmentally. Jon holds for some witty remark on the garment that should well have spilled forth from his ever-clever boyfriend, but none arrives after his boyfriend laughs louder than usual. He rolls his eyes and then looks to his boyfriend shocked that he’s missed something so dreadful on his head.

“Oh you’re one to talk G.I. Jon.” He half smirks as he pokes fun, assuming this is what his boyfriend intended walking up dressed like they’re at some surplus store. For his part Jon looks briefly confused before feeling at his head and remembering his new accessory. He laughs harshly once more, Troy flinches at the volume and looks around hoping no one is disturbed by his boyfriend acting uncharacteristically boorish. “Hey keep it down babe!” Jon swiftly obeys, holding a finger to his mouth only slightly mockingly before forcing a hand onto his boyfriend’s head and ruffling his hair.

Troy jumps back and rapidly sets to righting his pristine hair with a click of his tongue before returning the blouse to the rack, “Surprised you even but that on babe. Surely your hair looks like a nest now under that bowl.” Jon thinks about that for a second, sure that his boyfriend is right, that he should care about how messy his hair would be. After a second he is reminded of just how right the helmet feels and he knows he doesn’t mind whatever after effects there could possibly be. He begins scheming for a way to walk out of here with the helmet as it seems his boyfriend doesn’t seem to appreciate it nearly as much as he does. But Jon needs to have it.

They spend about half an hour longer browsing the aisles, Troy picks out a few things every so often turning to his boyfriend for his takes which come slower and less tactful at each turn. Jon’s mind swims as he feels this should be more enjoyable than it currently is. He briefly looks at some clothes for himself but with each passing minute the idea of him experimenting with clothes feels increasingly alien. Eventually he pulls out his phone and just trails behind his boyfriend, scrolling for any stimulation as he finds the idea of clothes shopping suddenly not only rote but impossibly boring. 

He groans loudly as Troy turns down another rack and his boyfriend turns in absolute shock to find Jon’s face plastered with genuine irritation. “Is everything alright Jon?” Seeing a look of concern on his boyfriend’s face Jon quickly struggles to hide his sour mood, pushing the hat down once more as he apologizes, “Uhh yeah of course, sorry I just read something, uh, on twitter.” Troy, grimaces at the phoned in lie and resolves to hurry up, “Sure sure, we can head out soon. I’ll grab this anddd you can put that helmet back and then we’re gone.”

Jon stands still in shock and Troy’s brows rise at the idea his boyfriend actually intended to keep wearing that stupid looking tin can. The idea is so bizarre to him he doesn’t even know how to respond, in the moment he just does an awkward smile and speaks through his teeth, “Oh, did you um. Want that? helmet?” Jon’s eyes race as he too struggles to find the words racing through his mind, overwhelmed by a level of desire he’s never even neared feeling before the army gear graced his head. Almost like hunger or the need to breathe is the desire for the helmet, his helmet, to stay where it belongs.

Seeing something strange painted on his boyfriend’s face Troy sighs and turns to walk to the counter, “If it’s more than thirty bucks we’re leaving it.” Jon’s heart thrums with excitement as he follows behind his boyfriend. For a brief moment that pings as uncomfortable for the man, surely he should be the one in front right? He shakes it off just as quick as they arrive at the counter, scratching at his hair underneath the helm, unaware as his lengthy curls almost seem shorter underneath, thicker and rigid as it pokes his hand and the helmet.

The cashier quickly rings up Troy’s pile of purchases before turning to see what Jon has brought, seeing the helmet on his head, “Oh, did you want to buy that as well?” Jon wordlessly nods with excitement that the cashier couldn’t miss, he continues, “Pshh, y’know what? That was going to be trash tomorrow so I don’t really mind just letting you have it.” Seeing the needy grin grow into a confident smirk on Jon’s face the cashier’s heart almost flutters as he concludes he made the right choice there. Despite knowing the two are definitely boyfriend’s he can’t help but flirt with Jon, “Consider it kismet, looks good on you.” with a wink. Troy scowls and the cashier quickly apologizes profusely before the two quickly usher themselves out the door.

Troy holds his tongue as they make their way to the car, less than thrilled that the helmet is coming with them. Even less thrilled at the fact that Jon’s gait is clearly shifting after being flirted with, in a manner Troy is quite familiar with. Not usually the jealous type, Troy easily pushes that down but remains on edge as he sees Jon maneuver to the driver side of the car. Holding the keys he honks the car to remind his boyfriend he’s the one driving. Jon scoffs and rolls his eyes before sauntering to the passenger side, deliberating adjusting his crotch as he does so. Troy narrows his eyes and lets loose his held tongue, “Are you just hungry or what Jon!? Can you chill?” Moving his hand from his package Jon raises his arms defensively but before he can answer his stomach indeed growls and he laughs. Taking this as confirmation that his boyfriend’s odd state is just some form of hanger Troy hops in the driver’s seat and starts the car.

Jon can’t help but grimace getting into the passenger’s seat, he knows this is his boyfriend’s car and that he doesn’t even like driving. But something just feels emasculating about this current situation. Try as he might, it's just bothering him, like a buzz in the back of his mind that something is wrong. Agreeing with Troy’s appraisal that he must just be ravished he reclines his chair as far back as it goes and shifts the helmet to cover his face. He can’t even hear as Troy chides him for doing so while driving, nor the playful judgment at how that helmet must stink. Instead he relishes the familiarity in its scent.

Eyes on the road Troy can’t see how Jon’s hair has changed in a manner totally unexpected. Rather than disheveling the long wavy curls as should have happened, his hair has completely changed to a look he would never be caught dead in, not quite a buzz or high and tight; his boyfriend is now sporting something jarringly jockish. Not only that but as he takes deep seemingly sleepish breaths of his helmet his chest rises higher, stretches wider than ever before, the hem of his shirt inching higher and exposing a waist not quite as thin as either man would have expected. Hearing snoring Troy steals a glance of the midriff exposed and blushes as he sees not only the barest hint of a treasure trail rising above the waist but that his bulge has returned with a vengeance, pulsing as whatever swift dream Jon has found is clearly more than a little alluring.

Under the helmet Jon isn’t quite asleep, as soon as the helmet covered his face he found himself obsessed with the scent that now bathes him. Something deep, musky, and impossibly familiar. Not quite the locker rooms of his youth, nor the sweaty bacchanals of pride events today. No it is something he knows he has never smelled before but with each breath the sweaty metallic scent imbues the not-quite memories with more reality. It’s at the edge of his mind, the edge of his tongue. He opens his mouth and looses his tongue into the humid breathy air underneath the helm and a memory that never was sears itself into his mind. Lifting weights with men clearly performatively masc, bodies stained with patriotic tattoos, grunts filling the air. Long dark nights in barracks, sweaty bodies grinding silently against each other in bunks.

Half-dreaming of a reality he never experienced and yet knows intimately his true body finds itself awkwardly catching in between his reclined seat and its seatbelt. He shifts as muscle groups never trained strain to grow. His ass hardens as in his mind he can’t help but picture grinding against other men in his cohort and his body responds in kind. Pushing against his seatbelt as it holds him tighter, his cock staining the jock-strap he threw on this morning with pre as his cock grows to push it further than it ever has before. Hearing the concerning sounds of fabric stretching and eventually a deep breathy moan Troy blushes and calls his boyfriend’s name, “Jon?”

Immediately cogent, the flashbacks of a life he hasn’t lived cease and Jon rockets up in his chair, slamming into his taut seatbelt, shooting his helmet into the windshield. “Fuck!” Going flying it thankfully bounces off safely before landing in Troy’s lap as he squints in irritation at his boyfriend. Without pause he stretches and yawns like a foghorn, his hands bumping against the low roof of Troy’s car as they rise higher than his thin arms should allow, “Yeah I could eat. You gonna cook?” Troy tilts his head at the question, both of them obviously knowing that Jon is the cook between the two. 

He pauses for a few seconds waiting for his boyfriend to address this in any form. Saying he doesn’t want to cook, that it’s a joke, anything at all. But after realizing how matter-of-fact Jon was Troy realizes that something is up. Biding his time he goes with something less than confrontational, “Did you want to grab something to eat?” Jon looks over at him in excitement, eyes flitting between his boyfriend and the hat in his lap, “Oooh Yeah! Fuck I’m craving some burgers babe!” 

Troy almost swerves as Jon says this, his boyfriend has been a vegetarian as long as the pair have dated, before even. He again waits for Jon to state this is an odd joke that simply hasn’t landed but the seconds slowly pass and judging by the dumb almost drooling expression on boyfriend’s face it’s clear that Jon is being nothing but genuine. Still driving he glances over to inspect his boyfriend closer and finally begins to pick away at his appearance. He balks at the bizarre haircut, sure that Jon did not have it this morning, nor could he picture a world where he boyfriend would deign to get it as it inches even shorter still. Trailing down to look at his body he sees the seatbelt straining to hold him down, he hears Jon grumble as it almost seems to cut in even tighter. Suddenly muscle that has never graced the chest of his boyfriend begins to rise underneath the belt.

Acting first out of concern Troy asks him, “Babe, I think your seatbelt is a little tight?” Jon guffaws in response, agreeing before undoing it and letting it slam into the window, “huhu you’re so right babe! So are we gonna stop at Micky D’s or what?” Seeing his boyfriend scratch at his pubes and refraining from returning his seatbelt Troy, ever a superstitious type, begins to suspect something sinister and otherworldly occuring and the root of it is more than clear. Clenching his own jaw as he sees Jon’s dumb smile above a jawline not nearly as petite as it should be, he rolls down his own window and prepares for the only recourse he can think of. 

When Jon checks his phone looking for the nearest fast food restaurant, Troy acts. Grabbing the helmet and launching it out the window. Unbuckled Jon drops his phone and launches himself onto his boyfriend, “What the fuck!” The helmet shoots back and crashes against the highway as Troy swerves with the weight of his boyfriend on his lap, heavier than Troy knows him to be. He ignores the harsh litany of swears being shot at him as Jon ambles back to his own seat and stares at the highway behind them. Each insult in his diatribe at Troy sounds crueler than the one before it, darker and almost deeper before he turns back and sulks in his chair. Arms clenched as anger begins to seep into every muscle in his form.

“Can you put your seatbelt back on?” Jon scoffs and ignores him, “Why did you do that?” Troy puffs his cheeks as he tries to think of a reasonable explanation for his actions, knowing that his boyfriend is generally against his superstitions, and certainly not knowing just how consumed his boyfriend had been by the helmet now dented in the dirt behind them. Eyes hidden by a brow higher and deeper than the pretty boy's face should have. Jon barely listens to his boyfriend’s justifications, finding absolutely nothing of note to justify such wanton destruction of something so meaningful, so tantamount to his own being. Troy continues to try and offer meaning, unaware that the damage has already been done in more ways than one.

The rest of the ride home is silent and brief. The boyfriends opt to fend for themselves for dinner. Hiding away from ire he simply can’t bring himself to understand, Troy goes to make himself a sandwich later that night and finds the kitchen in absolute shambles. The floor is littered with packaging from every piece of junk the two men had in the house, he balks as he tries to imagine his usually meek and pompous chef of a boyfriend stomaching the mess that lies at his feet. Almost a dozen egg shells lie tossed into the sink alongside tofacon that was clearly spit out and discarded after a single bite. 

Troy puts off his dinner to clean the mess made by his boyfriend. He knows it’s unlike Jon to leave a mess like this, or, he racks his brain to remember just how neat his boyfriend is supposed to be and struggles to really come to a conclusion. Soon enough he is completely overcome with a headache, one that grows with intensity as he tries to remember aspects of Jon. Though usually the human mind is skilled at holding contradictions Troy is struck with a migraine as two paradoxical images of his boyfriend come to mind.

The former the one he swears to be true. He remembers him at university, always going out of his way to speak up in class. Eager to go above and beyond. Showy but never too ostentatious. Anyone would describe him as kind and caring. Nothing like the man who jumped on top of him while he was driving. The Jon he knows would never go this long without checking in, especially after they had such a spat as they did. Nor would he leave half eaten tofu on the counter. Ugh but such is the sticking point, would he? He certainly has now. Troy scours his memory once more for another instance of indecency. His mind latches onto something, it is just like when they first moved in together! Right after Jonny finished his tour. What? Troy clenches at his head as it feels like a metaphysical ice pick just stabbed into his mind.

He screams and even more distress arrives after Jonny doesn’t even come to check on him. Troy hasn’t the prescience to care all too much at the moment as he feels but seconds away from passing out altogether. He barely gets up to his feet before stumbling down the hall to their bedroom. The room is filled with a musk that Troy doesn’t even have the prescience to notice. Seeing the man on his bed his vision blurs as the massive body is juxtaposed in his memory. Arms that hadn’t enough muscle to lift a cinder block fade before the powerful biceps in front of him. He moans as aftershocks of his migraine arrive before he collapses onto the bed, unconsciousness swiftly arriving as he feels the massive arms immediately encompass him.

He awakens completely entrapped in biceps that are larger than his own legs. Jonny’s new arms hold him tight to his sweat covered chest as Troy struggles to even have mobility to take a deep breath. “J- Jonny!” He chokes out before squirming around in Jonny’s iron grip, finding it easier than it should be as his torso is slicked by the inhuman amount of sweat drenching him. Troy tries to push off foolishly as his hands find no purchase. Changing strategies he instead slips out underneath as Jonny starts to stir, his face coming awfully close to a soaking wet package far larger than it should be. He sees tattoos stained across his boyfriend’s body. Ones that he wouldn’t in a thousand years imagine his boyfriend getting. Though as he does indeed imagine he finds he clearly remembers Jonny telling him about his plans to get each and every one.

Jonny awakens with a loud yawn, stretching as his whole form lengthens to its final height. Legs truly as thick as tree trucks hang off his bed while his arms raise high above their headboard before moving elsewhere to scratch the dense bushes in his pits and pubes. Troy pointedly looks away from the morning wood bobbing in the air between them as he desperately awaits for some sense of normalcy to return to his life. Finishing his morning ritual of feeling himself up and scratching at every itch that arises Jonny speaks up, his voice a harsh and raspy baritone that forces all, especially Troy, to pay attention, “Mornin’ babe. Yo can you make me some food while I get a morning pump on?” 

Troy is torn between nodding enthusiastically and fleeing for help, causing him to stand motionlessly in place. His mind is made up as Jonny stands suddenly a foot taller than him and reaches to pull him close once more, forcing his head into his sweaty pecs, inches from the forest of already musty pit hair. Troy struggles not to sharply inhale as Jonny grabs his hair and forces him to make eye contact, he smirks before releasing his boyfriend and heading off to their office, slapping him on the ass before beginning whatever work he sees fit.

This has never been their morning routine but Troy sets out like it is the only reason for his existence. He finds a fridge beyond stocked with everything such a massive trooper could desire. Swiftly preparing a meat filled breakfast Troy has barely any time to himself to even begin to question what has gone on, and when he does so his paranoia and discomfort is replaced with a desire to do nothing but obey his boyfriend. After all, is it not his place to please him? He is the man of their house. This is how it has always been.

Troy loads up a large plate to bring directly to his boyfriend, only pausing to tidy up his own appearance. He pulls an apron, one once monogrammed with a J, tight to highlight his slight curves as he knocks on their office door. He is washed with a rush of musk and sweat as if he were walking into a rainforest. Where there were once desks and bookshelves there are reams of free weights and other gym equipment, Troy’s head twitches before he has no problem at all, the room obviously is as it always has been. As it always will be, he blushes as he sees Jonny hard at work, his arms already far larger than when he woke up to them around his waist this morning.

He feels his cock stir as he sees Jonny’s pulse with every lift of the weight. The army green of his clothing highlighting every bulging muscle as he continues to exercise it towards perfection. Troy bites his lip as he imagines the things that could be done with that cock, memories of himself topping swiftly erasing as Jonny is so obviously the top it would require a rewrite of reality for it to not be the case. Hanging on the wall is an old helmet that Troy would have sworn he threw against the pavement at 60 miles per hour. His psyche immediately chastises him for the thought, how could he have done that! He knows how much Jonny loves that helmet!

Troy quickly goes to leave the food on a bench out of use before retreating from the room, not waiting for his boyfriend to say thanks. He skips making his own breakfast to instead tidy the kitchen and their living room, somehow already soiled with dirty laundry. He smells his boyfriend coming before he sees him, a trail of post-workout sweat steaming off in his wake as he goes to sit on the couch. Immediately staining it before discarding clothes onto the only recently tidied floor. He turns on the television before patting on his meaty thigh.

His boyfriend, knowing what this means, immediately rushes over to make his acquaintance. Doe eyes inspecting every bulging muscle and pulsing vein across his body. Jonny’s cock clearly begs for post-workout release as the two sit on the couch together. Troy gets to the floor and begins to pull at his boyfriend’s underwear when he hears the massive man click his tongue, “You know babe I’ve been thinking.” Already on the floor Troy waits patiently, his face inches away from the throbbing cock, “You ever wanted to enlist?”

Images of powerful army bodies dance through Troy’s mind. His small figure out of place among them certainly, but with each passing day he could fit in more. Be more. He imagines himself becoming far more than he is, running drills, pumping iron, commanding lesser men. The idea sends butterflies in his stomach as he pictures himself finally being on top, alongside Jonny. It’s barely enough for him to bear as whimpers on the floor in front of his boyfriend. Jonny just smirks and reclines, “Gotta start somewhere.” planning to go grab his favorite helmet off the wall as soon as the pair are done here. There’s always room for more men in the corps, and wouldn’t it be nice to get head from someone else who's fucking huge.

Grindr Gold

This is a rewrite of Rozza’s rewrite of Tinder Gold. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Fuck, why don’t you guys respond!”, Tom moaned as he fell back into his bed. Another guy had just gone and ghosted him, the sixth one this week. Tom was pissed and confused as to why he was failing with so many guys. It was true that he didn’t have the looks. Average height, average hair, average face. A face dotted with acne, on top of his unremarkable body, pudgy from years of studying. He was smart, provably so, but also funny and kind. He hoped that would shine through in his bio. Tom went back to his phone and looked over it, and his pics. Maybe there was something he could tweak to make him more attractive. Or it could be a waste of time. All the guys wanted was cheap sex with the man of their dreams, and that was it.

Tom was about to let go of the phone when he saw a new banner at the bottom of the screen, advertising Grindr Gold. “Stop looking for the perfect match - become one!” It totally looked like a scam to Tom, but he had been so unlucky recently that he would consider anything. He tapped the banner, bringing up the purchase screen. It wasn’t very clear to him exactly what they provided for the hefty $250 a month. “Personalized profile to maximize your chance to strike gold.” Whatever. The first month was $10, and he could cancel at any point, according to the page. He could buy it, maybe get a few dates, and then keep the profile as is after cancelling.

He tapped his screen again to pay, ignored a mile of terms and conditions, and finalized his payment. He looked impatiently at the screen as nothing happened. Everything was the same. A scam after all. A few seconds later there was a knock on the door, giving Tom a jump scare. He got up to go and see who it was, still pissed about his lost $10. He opened the door and almost dropped his jaw on the floor. Outside the door was the most handsome twink he had ever seen, online as well as in the flesh. A shorter, younger boy with bronzed skin, blond hair in a quiff, sparkling green eyes, and just as sparkling, white smile. He was wearing gold shorts, trendy shoes, and nothing else, showing off the rest of his body. It was fit, without being muscular or overly cut, showing hints of definition and abs. His skin was beautifully, evenly tanned and smooth, and like the rest of him looked perfected with many products. His face had been cleansed of any impurities and facial hair, while his golden gelled up quiff was flanked by freshly buzzed sides. Tom’s brained blanked, partly because of the unexpected surprise visitor, partly because of this visitor in particular, and partly because the blood rushed into his quickly stiffening dick.

“Tom, I assume?” the twink queried.

Tom was speechless, struggling with where to look. When he looked at the face his eyes were drawn into the green eyes, and it felt rude and awkward to gaze into an unknown mans eyes like that. Anywhere else on the body was worse. Look at the nipples? The golden bulge?

“I am Grindr Gold, professional dater and dating expert, and I am here to assist you. May I come in?” Tom was struggling to comprehend that Grindr Gold wasn’t a software update, or a service feature, or even a scam, but a real, life something seemingly teleported to outside his door.

“Yeah… Yes! Yes, of course. Step right in.” Tom moved out of the way and waved towards the interior of the messy apartment. “Are you some kind of dating coach? Will you get me laid?”

“Of course! I am Grindr Gold, and I never disappoint.” Gold was slowly turning, taking in the sight of Tom’s small student apartment.

“Wait, your name is Grindr? No, nevermind. What’s first?”

“Take off your shirt and have a seat”, he motioned towards Tom’s study armchair. “We know exactly what everyone is looking for, what types get hookups, what the supply and demand is. I’m here to improve supply where it is needed the most. Firstly, no one wants another post-college graduate. There are plenty of them around. They want a freshly minted fuckboi.“

What did he just say now? Did he just say fuckboi? No way Tom was going to be like one of those dumbasses, who just existed to get laid. But before he could object, Gold began waving his hands. Tom became dizzy and distorted as energy waves from Gold’s hands flew into him. His skin vibrated, turning back years. His fat mostly melted away, leaving a little around his stomach. The hair on his chest receded back into his skin, softening out his pecs. The hair on his legs thinned out as well, but remained spread out for his age. The lines and bags on his face, caused by all the stress of college, faded. His looks had gone from mid-twenties PhD student to a youthful 18 year old.  

“What the fuck! This isn’t what I wanted! I look like a dumb teenager!”, Tom shouted in a decidedly younger voice, as he saw his reflection on his phone screen.

“Relax, this is just the first step to getting you laid. Your profile said you are just looking for a hookup, right?”

“Yeah, but not like…”

“I’m gonna do the best I can, making you the most sought after fuck for miles. Let me change your mind on this. If things don’t work out, we can always go for a different look. Now we gonna get you yeeted up…”

Without waiting for a response Gold started massaging Tom’s arms, infusing them with the same energy. Tom laid back as all he could do was relax in Gold’s hands. Gold moved his hands carefully across the entire surface of Tom’s skin, everywhere his hands went hair disappeared. After finishing with his arms, he moved to his chest and then finishing with his legs, removing any stray patches of hair.  Once he was done, the only hair left was around his dick and his pits. Gold focused harder now, causing his hands to vibrate and made a second pass. This time as they swept across Tom’s body they instilled a golden tan with a touch of Italian olive as he rewrote his genetics. His hands swept through the mess of Tom’s hair, changing it into a light, crisp brown. Then he continued down, focusing on Tom’s face, cleansing it of impurities and perfecting his features. Tom’s nose and mouth shrunk, though his lips grew, and eyes turned brown. Gold poked Tom’s nipples causing them to darken and grow slightly. Golds hands then pushed the energy down Tom, doing unseen magic down his pants.

“Now, anyone can be young and pretty, but there are really only two sorts of people looking for a date around here. Alpha males, and those who wish they were. And there is one thing that get both of them going, that invites them to dominate.” Gold stepped back and framed his hands sideways as if to take an invisible picture. Then he quickly slammed his hands together. To Tom, it felt like crashing into a pool of water. All of a sudden he was being compressed. His height fell from 5′10 foot down to a more modest 5'6. His limbs crushed in on themselves to meet his new height. Feet and hands adjusting down as well. His size 10 feet shrank to a cuter 7.5. His loss of height and body hair made him look not just young, but cute. The kind of look that if he got angry people would find it adorable. How on earth was any of this going to get him laid? Gold smiled, sensing his skepticism.

“Patience fam, the best is on the way! I promised I would change your mind.” Gold took one hand and placed it on Tom’s temple and with the other grabbed his small package.

“Wait what are you…. ohhh…” Tom moaned as his muscles slacked and resistance faded. He could feel a strange hum in his mind and a stirring in his dick. The sensation scared him but it was also too pleasurable to fight. Tom’s hair began to change, his sides faded down so you could see his skin, while the hair on the top also shortened, before collecting into a cute ruffle. Tom’s pecs remained small but the remaining fat converted into muscle giving him a toned look. His arms swelled with strength and pudgy stomach shrank into a faint but hard six-pack. At the same time, his small dick began to grow, gaining inches. His facial features became more pointed, eyes darkening with hunger and lust in them, and his mouth curled into a pout smile, with his lips puffing up into a pseudo duck shape unless consciously pulled back.

Old Tom would be embarrassed at him now, but Tommy was swimming in horniness, as he began to lust for boys and sex. Any knowledge he had gained, and dreams of careers faded and were replaced with a desire for screwing every boy in town. Gold’s smile transformed into a grin.

“One last thing to make you a proper fuckboi!” Gold said as his energies forced themselves into Tommy one last time. Two shiny studs pierced his ears, glistening in the sunlight. A golden bracelet appeared on his left wrist. Tommy looked down, feeling his dick still growing and tingling, and saw Calvin Klein underwear peeking out from a pair of baller shorts, with slowly filling bulge.

“Ahhhhhhhh fuck boooooooooi!” Tommy screamed in his soft, boyish voice as he came, filling his underwear with boy cream. Posters of video games vanished, replaced by posters of boys bands, athletes and cars. His new idols and interests. His computer shrank and changed into a worn-out basketball and books evaporated, replaced with sports gear, outdoor equipment and playboy magazines.

Having done the final touches on wardrobe, accessories and interior decoration, Gold turned to Tommy. “I have a new Grindr bio ready to go for you. Just need a new photo to update your profile with. You should take it with your shirt off. Do it somewhere public, like an elevator or shopping mall, so you look easy and cheap. It’s fucks you want after all, not a boyfriend.”

Branding night

Hey 

so this took me a long time to finish, its the longest I’ve written. This story is inspired by Dumb and jocked’s story “Branded”, which I absolutely loved

Enjoy reading

Rozza   

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“Ugh, how long until we get into this stupid event?” moaned Edward.

“Don’t worry Eddie, it won’t be that long,” replied George trying to calm down his irritated friend. The two were part of a bigger group of five nerds who were waiting in multiple lines to enter some stupid event. The group came about after they were put together in temporary student housing at the college. 

Eddie had spent a lot on this college and, so far it had only disappointed him. Day one and he was given a random group to live with for a week, luckily for him, they were all nerds and, they got on. However, afterwards, they all found out that this college was not as they had perceived it. Blackwater University was supposed to be one of the top Science unis in the country, with spacious labs for chemistry, a library so great it could rival that of the ancient ones, and professional scientists to help guide them to achieve the best results. As it turned out, this was mostly a lie. There were labs and a library, but not as big as they were expecting. Hopefully, the teachers would be better. But what made them feel more uncomfortable was the amount of high-end sport and gym equipment. The place seemed to be some kind of sports college rather than a science one. There were jocks everywhere, and they influenced everything here. 

The jocks had such an influence on the campus culture they were allowed to organise mandatory special days, which overrode all classes and outings, like the one they were waiting for now. 

It was a freshman event organised by the multiple frats on campus. The Patriots, Phoenix fighters, and The American Wolves were the most popular, but there were at least ten others around.

Keep reading

Hey so I’ve been totally friend zoned by this dude, he claims to be into fuck boys (I wish I was joking) any chance you could help me out so he might see me in a different way?

You stood speechless as the guy wandered off back into the club. It was useless though you clearly weren't his type. He was looking for vapid dumb fuckboys who would probably move on from him within less than a day. You go back to your drinks but feel an urge to go to the toilet.  You navigate the crowd to the door and enter. The room is empty, but then a gush of cold air hits you on your back, and you relax. Suddenly you feel cold hands on your shoulder and hear whispers in your ear.

"Mmmm, tasty wasn't he? Shame you're not his type," came a cute voice in your ear.

"Perhaps I can help?" it continued, before laughing. You wanted to say something, to move out of his hands but you couldn't. He started massaging your shoulders, sending pulses of energy into your body.

"Ya know what a fuckboy is like, don't you? They're idiots who work out at the gym regularly, pushing themselves to get that toned summer body," The voice spoke as his massages got harder. You felt your body change. Your stomach sucked in, while your chest inflated slightly pushing out a pair of nice pillowy pecs. A six-pack gradually formed itself out of your stomach. Your arms and legs slowly added a bit of toned muscle, but not much. The growth feels so good your dick begins to harden. Your mind is taken by euphoria and pleasure you can't think anymore.

"Yes, it feels so good doesn't it?" the voice asks.

"Yes, yes," you moan.

The massaging stops, but the euphoria doesn't. One hand is placed on your head, and you feel as it pushes down on you. You were quite tall, but you could feel as you got shorter. Your legs and arms began sucking in somewhat, and the spare mass from this was transformed, into yet more tonnage. Your around 5'9 in height now, quite a bit shorter. The hands then moved all over your body, feeling you knew toned muscles. Everywhere the hands touched left a mark of tanned, soft, youthful skin that spread over the rest. All your hairs vanished from your body leaving you with a tanned and youthful look. The hand came back up to your face rubbing your cheeks, spreading the youthful tan to your face. All your stubble went, leaving your face feeling smooth and clean.

"Looking much nicer now aren't we, but we still got to cuten out those features,"

His hands then rubbed over your face like it was mouldable jelly. He began reshaping each feature, making out the cutest possible face imaginable. Your lips plumped up turning them pouty, he moved onto your nose, which became thinner but sharper.

Then his hands came up to your ears. He kept them flat on the skin, before suddenly squeezing your head. He moved them around the sides of your head until it got to the back. The hairs shorten down into faded cut, and the hair turns chestnut brown. He moved his hands up to the top your head and began styling your hair as if there was gel in it. He started waving his hands through it, lengthening it out, before spiking out your hair all over the place making it into a dumb extravagant style.

He turns you to look in the mirror and you almost gasp, except you can't since you seem to have lost control of your body. You find your new look sexy, but can't help find this wrong. You weren't a fuckboy, were you? No, you had smarts, standards, and a decent personality. You knew what fuckboy's were like; only focusing on looks and status, sex and a vapid personality.

"I sense your doubts, don't worry we can fix that,"

One hand remained on your head while the other slid down into your pants, groping your dick. There was a sucking sensation around the hand on your head as he began to suck out your brains. This had gone too far, you wanted to get out of this grip. But the pleasure was too great, you couldn't help but be helpless as all your education, hobbies, and other interests were sucked out of your head.  It wasn't until you felt a stroking sensation in your pants that you realised all this waste from your head was being used to grow out your dick. Your balls grew massively as they were filled with new fuckboy seed that sought out and replaced your old weaker seed. Your mind was racing to preserve itself, but you could feel a great vanity growing in you. The desire to workout to make yourself look cute only so you could score more guy every week, putting yourself above others, becoming addicted to how your social media followers saw you. Yeah, that was you now, a dumb guy obsessed with getting all the sex he could.

The stroking got harder and faster and before you could do anything you creamed your pants.

"YEAH FUCKBOY!" you howled as the hands vanished. You turned around suddenly forgetting anything that had happened moments ago. You look back in the mirror and your clothes had changed, you now wore a trendy tank top, a pair of grey shorts and chain around your neck. You took a selfie for all your followers to jerk themselves to before remembering that guy who rejected you for some odd reason. Maybe now that you've freshened up he might think twice.

“Oh My God! You too??? Jesus what happen in this house?” said Edward, shocked to see his fraternity friends also turned into a hunk. He run to the outside of the bathroom and the whole alley filled with hot college boys taking selfie and lusting over their own muscle, some of them kissing and worshipping each other. Edward start to feel nauseous, his body drenched in sweat. He groaned as his brain filled with new memories and then several bros start to notice “Huhuh, look at him. Maybe he need some help to make the process quicker,” said Charlie the geography prodigy, now Carlos a talented football winger, pulling off Edward’s pants and start sucking his throbbing dick Outside of the house, Greg Willis and Frankie Duchamp high-fiving with each other as they perfectly finish their Coach order “With this, we’ll have enough member for all sports club in this college, and I can get some extra boys that I need to make a team” said Frankie, the captain of the football team.

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?”

FYP Funk

Inspired by Anon Ask

Ezra had just gotten home from a long day at the gym and was scrolling on Tiktok and just relaxing on his couch. As he was scrolling past gym routines, movie clips, and scantily clad women showing lots of skin, he scrolled onto this weird video. It was a recording of a spiral that was taking up the entire screen, Ezra thought it was kinda weird for his FYP to show him that but he just kept on scrolling when a minutes later an almost identical video came up. After thinking to himself how weird it was he decided to keep scrolling. Yet again a few minutes later it popped up again, Ezra scrolled past but the video right after it was another hypnotic spiral. Aggressively scrolling, Ezra was being bombarded with more and more spiral videos, he was becoming increasingly frustrated and annoyed. He started to block the accounts that were producing such weird, garbage content.

Then all of a sudden as he scrolled again the video called him out by name, Ezra was shocked and felt the need to watch the video out of pure curiosity. The video repeated “Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral. Ezra, watch the spiral. Ezra, enjoy the spiral. Ezra, give in to the spiral”. Feeling the desire to block the account begin to fade and his curiosity become benign, Ezra watched the spiral intensely. After a few minutes of the spiral and commands coming at Ezra the video commanded to Ezra, “Scroll”. Ezra dutifully followed the instructions and scrolled to the next Tiktok. He watched as a pink spiral illuminated his screen, he went to compulsively scroll past when the video began saying “Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron. Ezra, you are dumb. Ezra, you are stupid. Ezra, you are a moron.” and it just kept saying it over and over. Ezra immediately began listening to the simple yet for some reason captivating commands directed at him for minutes on end. Not only did he listen but he also felt it changing him. He felt suddenly like he had gotten up way too fast, his head felt like it was spinning and he felt a little light headed and woozy. At first he thought nothing of it but then he heard the video go through its list commands one more time and suddenly he couldn’t remember what day or even what month it was. Ezra felt as his recent thoughts began to be sucked out of his brain, he completely forgot that his FYP isn’t normally all spirals, he forgot that he thought the videos were strange, he forgot everything he had currently floating around in his mind. Then it began to impact more cemented thoughts and knowledge, Ezra couldn’t seem to remember what he liked doing, who his friends were, his gym routine, etc. He couldn’t remember anything he had learned in middle school, high school, even college, it was all being vacuumed out of his brain. His mouth slowly hung open and he started to drool a little, without his mind fully intact he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The hue of his eyes began to dull and they glossed over and made it perfectly obvious that behind those eyes there was not a thought in his head.

Ezra got to the end of the video when yet again it commanded him to scroll, the next video he scrolled to had a blue spiral taking over the screen. This video began to say “Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny. Ezra, you are weak. Ezra, you are small. Ezra, you are scrawny.”. It felt like his body was deflating. His big muscles began to shrink and shrivel away to almost nothing compared to what he had. He still had some muscle and meat on his bones, but he wasn’t going to be doing much heavy lifting anymore. He also lost a few inches in two ways, he began to feel himself compress down losing a solid 10 inches. He went from a decent 6’3 to short king status sitting at 5’5 on a good day. His dick began to undergo the same shrinking transformation losing half of what his height lost. Ezra went from having an 8” yogurt slinger to a small 3” wiener. Sure it could please someone but he was not going to be destroying anyone or anything with those 3 inches. Ezra was left as a scrawny twinkish version of himself, the only part of him that retained the same muscle mass as before was his plump ass. Perfect for being pounded.

The video concluded and told him one more “Scroll” and the brainless twink obediently did as he was told. Scrolling to the next Tiktok Ezra was met this time with a green spiral. As it captured his vulnerable mind it began to command “Ezra, you love to fart. Ezra you love the stench of rancid flatulence. Ezra, you need the smell of your own funky ass to be happy”. Ezra immediately let out a silent but deadly fart, and then the commands were repeated, and Ezra let out a just as rancid but more audible fart. As the commands were repeated over and over again he began to let out stinkier and more boisterous farts. “pffft” was all that Ezra could muster up in the beginning but by the end of the video the scent in his room was absolutely rank and the sound of his farts echoed throughout the room. The video ended and told him to scroll, the next video was just a normal video of a gym bro thirst trapping.

Suddenly he got a notification from Grindr, and then another and another. He went to respond and found matches galore. He thought to himself “I don’t like guys…” but he couldn’t get a more complex thought out because he was interrupted by his own bottom “PPPPPFFFFBBBBTTTTTT” He breathed in his repulsive ass vapors and looked back at his phone, “heheh he’s hot…really *pffft* uhhh hot…” his brain was being fried even more by his own stink and he didn’t mind one bit, his own farts turned his preference for petite blondes into a preference for big, dominant men.

He ended up having a guy come over that night and became the guys own personal farty fucktoy. The hunk manhandled Ezra all night but Ezra loved being a submissive little twink for him.

A Night at the Kings Theatre

The Kings Theatre had been long abandoned by the city for over half a century, haunted by the memory of that fateful night in 1978. No one knows exactly what happened, but from tragedy arose legend. 143 people entered the auditorium that April night, prepared to see a terrifying new film just recently brought to America out of West Germany. "Der Kuss der Lust" was some sort of return to the German Expressionist Horror of the 1920's, a film scarcely heard of outside art houses in Berlin, and the hapless crowd came in droves. By the end of the showing, the police had arrived, the majority of patrons leaving the theatre in handcuffs or straightjackets. The city never released any information on the event, opting instead to board up the grand building and never speak of the subject again. That is, until 2024.

The group stared up at the Grandiose Marquee, excited for the long awaited return of their neighborhood movie palace. The four of them giddy with anticipation, they each had their tickets in hand: all found mysteriously in their post boxes that morning. Teddy stood with his mouth agape in awe at the sheer beauty of the facade, while Rod, Sabrina, and Pete gossiped amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it was literally in my mailbox this morning." Sabrina's characteristic monotone delivery making the two boys snicker.

"Girl I can tell you're sooo excited." Rod rolling his eyes at his roommate, well acquainted with her stoic persona. Pete stood looking down at his phone, trying to browse the theatre website to see what film they were about to be subjected to.

"All it says on here is 'Grand Opening Event.' It doesn't say what movie it is. OH! I bet it's that new one we've been seeing trailers all over the place about! The one with Ryan Gosling and Ross Lynch necking while Jennifer Coolidge just sits there!" Pete's boisterous and brash demeanor yet again shining through. A lack of volume control was a typical symptom of his theatre gay archetype, but nothing his friends were unprepared for.

"Shhhh. Look, they're letting people in!" Teddy hushed his little group, pointing to the tall gentleman at the door, now checking ticket stubs as the patrons slowly trickled inside. Teddy was merely along for the ride, roped into the outing by Rod, who was continuously concerned with his homebody lifestyle. "So we don't know what we're watching tonight, huh?" The three others shrugged.

"Does it really matter? It's something to do, Teddy..." Sabrina scoffing under her breath as they slowly inched toward the front doors. Teddy looked at the ticket man up ahead, his eyes sunken in and hunching over the audience members like Frankenstein's Monster.

"I bet he's in character for the movie! I've heard about this in class. They used to have all the staff act all spooky and improv with the crowd to get them in the mood for the movie! I bet it's a horror movie then!" Pete's enthusiasm was not exactly reciprocated as the boys shrugged and Sabrina rolled her eyes. Teddy felt a twinge of foreboding as they approached the towering man, each handing him their tickets. He stared at the group for a moment, the four tickets just hanging loosely from his grey fingers.

"Uh, are we good to go?" Rod stared at the man, whose head slowly turned down to meet his gaze before a demented grin crawled across his decrepit face. He bowed dramatically, waving his arm to usher them into the building, not a single utterance leaving his blue lips.

"Wow, impressive acting. Let's go, boys." Sabrina pushed the three through the open brass doors, Teddy's gaze having a hard time breaking with the strange man. His grin seemed to melt away almost instantly, returning to stonefaced indifference as he attended to the group behind.

"What the fuck was that?" Teddy turned to his group, Rod the only one taking the time to even acknowledge his query.

"Listen, they're just gettin' you in the mood! Like Pete was saying! Lighten up, man. I promise we'll take you home right after this, and you don't have to come out until next week. And we're doin' karaoke baby!" Rod nudged Teddy, whose response was a coy smile as he stared at his feet. He didn't want to be there, but for the sake of his friends he was making an effort.

The lobby was bright and opulent, the Beaux-Arts architecture perfectly coordinating with the beautiful exterior. Heavy red velvet drapes hung between the marble columns, a grand staircase likely bringing folks to the mezzanine, and a modest but well stocked concessions stand stood in the middle of the room. Historic film posters hung prominently against the walls: Casablanca, Dracula, Gone with the Wind, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte, Rebel Without A Cause, Rebecca... all with bold 'COMING SOON' stickers plastered against the glass displays.

"I guess they're doing a whole retro movies vibe! Ooh! I wanna come back to see James Dean on the Silver Screen!" Pete jumped excitedly at the prospect, running over to the poster to take a picture as Sabrina walked to concessions to get popcorn. Rod and Teddy stood there, just admiring the grandeur of the space before the chandeliers began to flicker rather ominously.

"I think that means we need to find our seats." Teddy turned to look at Rod, who was squinting at the tickets to see what seat they'd all been assigned.

"We're in something called MEZ? What the fuck does that mean?" Teddy snatched the ticket, pointing to the top of the stairs in response.

"It means mezzanine, we're upstairs." Teddy motioned to Pete to rejoin them just as Sabrina returned with a gigantic barrel of buttery popcorn, munching away. The group ascended the stone stairs, avoiding brushing against the eager spectators as they rushed to their seats.

The auditorium was equally as grand. A massive brass chandelier hung prominently above the house, boxes lining the sides of the walls above row after row of velvet seats. The group made their way to their rows: Rod and Sabrina in row 3, Pete and Teddy in row 2 immediately in front. They took their seats as the vintage concessions ad played on the massive screen. Teddy heard Rod and Sabrina bickering about roomie problems he cared nothing about, as Pete blathered on about the history of the anthropomorphic dancing popcorn box. The mood in the room was one of excitement, of anticipation, yet for Teddy... it was off. The air felt stale and stagnant, the uncanniness of the movie palace long after it's prime seemed to hang differently in his mind. It felt like a time capsule, a liminal space where time had just frozen still, waiting to swallow it's naive visitors. Perhaps it was just the social anxiety, as Rod would likely dismiss it as. Yet, for whatever reason, Teddy sat on edge and alert. The lights began to dim, and a hush fell over the auditorium as previews began to roll for the films advertised in the lobby.

"Ooooooh! Bela Lugosi was so hot. Like seriously." Pete chimed with his typically chipper demeanor, stealthily stealing a handful of Sabrina's popcorn from behind him as they whispered deep in their argument. "Like can you even blame her for falling for him? I mean come on." Teddy just nodded along, peering around him at the crowd of exceedingly normal people watching the old trailer with glee.

The trailers ended with the screams of Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland; Hush, Hush Sweet Charotte ending it's preview as the room was flooded in blackness. Teddy swore he could faintly hear whispers emanating from all around him in the dark cavern, before the room was once again illuminated as the black and white title card brightly shone on the canvas screen. The words were in a strange font, clearly not in English.

"Durr kusss durr loost... Ahh shit is this some kind of foreign film?" Sabrina sighed and reclined back into her chair, taking solace in the handfuls of popcorn she'd been shoveling into her mouth. Teddy recognized none of the actors names as they quickly flashed before his eyes, nor could he understand any of the words in the opening credits. He didn't speak German, but he couldn't wait to rub the hiccup in Rod's face: yet another social outing turning out completely unintended. Thankfully, as the camera opened onto some old Baroque village, as dialogue began, he was relieved to see English subtitles scurrying at the bottom of the screen.

He struggled to keep up with the narrative, as the translation may have been rather poor to begin with, instead opting to focus on the increasingly strange sets these actors were traversing. From what he could tell, there was a nobleman of some sort who found a village woman he'd fallen in love with. The book was promising powers of love beyond human comprehension, and in his hubris, the nobleman tries to cast a spell of lust on the beautiful young woman.

"I mean look at the set design, it's giving Nosferatu. NO! Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.... Oooh it's so cool!" Rod nudged Pete with his shoe, shushing him as neighboring patrons shoot dirty looks in their direction. Teddy became completely enveloped in the bizarre imagery rather quickly. The film was almost dreamlike in quality, walls seemed to jut out in different directions, the lighting was dim at best and only illuminating essential props or entrances and exits for characters. The sounds of the auditorium slowly faded away into the periphery, and all that could be perceived was the muffled voices of the actors.

Time was not a consistent factor in the film, it just meandered from scene to scene, with disconcerting Dutch angles increasing dread at every turn. What felt like one minute could easily have been twenty, but fortune momentarily smiled on the encapsulated young man. Teddy felt his stomach rumble, momentarily breaking him from his trancelike state to reach behind him into their popcorn bowl. He'd fully expected a wrist slap from Sabrina, but after three or four handfuls of popcorn, that moment never came. This moment of sheer confusion pulled him out of his tunnel vision, if only to reassure Sabrina that he'd pitch in for the popcorn. As he turned around, he was met with a sight he never could have ever imagined.

Sabrina's head was turned toward Rod, and for a moment, Teddy thought they were just whispering to eachother, continuing their asinine argument over who ate the pickle chips the night before. Though as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room around him, it became clearer just what it was they were doing. Her lips were planted firmly on Rod's, his left hand slowly sliding up her thigh. Teddy quickly swiveled his head back to the screen, eyes wide with shock. Rod was a flaming queer, just as he was and just as Pete was. Sure, Sabrina was straight, but he couldn't imagine her boyfriend being thrilled at the sight of Rod necking her in a movie theatre.

"Dude! Look at their facial expressions! You don't even need subtitles, you just need to see their faces!" Pete's voice hummed distantly, being completely ignored by all around him, doing little to aid Teddy's growing discomfort. The sounds of wet, sloppy kissing began to ring out from behind him, their breaths shallow and low. Teddy's eyes darted around him, the faded outlines of the other patrons not getting any clearer, nothing but the film there to distract him. Especially as the sounds of comingling tongues abruptly came to an end, only to quickly be replaced by another more terrifying sound.

*Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* "Ahhhh yeah, baby..." It was unmistakable. That was Rod... With each stifled moan, every snarling growl and wet slurp, he could hear his friend's voice growing lower and lower. His growls becoming louder... rougher... more animalistic. Teddy stared forward, beads of sweat starting to seep out of his forehead as he listened to the two most ill-matched people get it on directly behind him. He heard their pace quicken, Sabrina's slurps turning into gags as he heard more bizarre sounds arising from behind. Creaking... The sound of shifting leather, or maybe it was tearing fabric... Or the sound of an inflating balloon... Teddy felt his breath start to quiver, as he looked down between the armrests, seeing Rod's Chuck Taylors start to wriggle and writhe. His eyes widened, seeing the black canvas fabric start to flush white, growing larger and larger. He recognized the Nike symbol starting to protrude from the sides of the sneaker, and as Rod's voice growled into an enraptured release, the Converse were now a pair of large, beat up AirForce1's, covered vulgarities written in black Sharpie. Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, Sabrina giggling as he heard the sound of a waistband snapping back to place. It was silent for a moment, Teddy too nervous to look behind him, but desperately wanting to know what happened to his friends.

"Ahhhhhhh yeah, babe." There was a thud, Teddy peering down to his right and seeing the gigantic sneaker resting on his arm rest. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned his head. There, leaning forward with his hands on his head was Rod- or at least, someone that once was Rod. The tall, skinny little gay boy he'd befriended had been replaced with a gigantic, tattooed man. His hair cropped short, his muscles bulging, his shirt sitting on his thigh below his exposed torso now adorned with thick silver chains.

"Huhu, my bad, bro. When duty calls, am I right?" Rod grabbed onto his monstrous bulge, hiding behind the cum stained fabric of his white shorts. Teddy felt the blood rush from his head at the very sight of it. He watched as Sabrina, now equally scantily clad with tattoos, jet black hair, and devious grin mischievously slithered her hand beneath his waistband, grabbing ahold of his thick cock and slowly pumping. Rod winked at Teddy, turning again to Sabrina and kissing her once again.

Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, mortified and terrified in equal measure. He looked around him yet again, only seeing once again the dim outlines of the other patrons completely enveloped in the film before them. He turned behind him, doing his best to ignore the slimy sound of Rod's handjob to see the doors had staff members blocking each exit.

"Fuuuuuuck, bro. This shit is tight. Lemme tell you, man. I need this shit on Netflix." Teddy ignored Pete's typical unwarranted commentary, peering down over the house to see if the patrons below were also... different. Through the dark haze of the auditorium, he received his answer. The vast majority of the audience was completely enraptured with the film, not so much as flinching as they watched the nightmarish visions on screen. However, he'd started to notice the dim outlines of a couple people leaning in toward eachother. He couldn't pry his eyes away, so Teddy could only watch as he saw the patrons start to grope, kiss, and go down on eachother. A couple up front necking in the first row, two guys sliding their hands into eachother's pants in box 5, a group of what he'd assumed were bachelorettes just sliding their hands over eachother's breasts.

"Pete... Pete, we gotta get the fuck out of here." Teddy whispered to his friend, not taking his eyes off of the filth that was unraveling around them. Three seats over, one man was now bent over the railing of the balcony, three other men taking turns railing him right there in public to no outcry whatsoever. Teddy whipped his head toward Pete, still intently watching the film. "Pete! Pete, let's go!" He grabbed onto his wrist, feeling a strange rubbery texture tightly wrapped around it. He looked down, watching in terror as his friend's pristine watch slowly warped beneath his hands. Tightening until all that was left were three rubber bracelets in bright vivid colors.

Teddy's gaze slowly rose from his friend's hand as his fingernails slowly turned black. The rotund theatre gay was rapidly losing mass. His tight sweatervest growing looser and looser before his eyes. Fat seemed to shrink into nothingness as the sleeves of his shirt began to slowly rise up the length of his arms.

"Dude... I feel kinda funky, bro." The typical chipper demeanor was slowly vanishing, his eager eyes began to droop, as his short brown hair started to grow. The dark brown hairs quickly were flushed with a wash of bright blonde as it snaked out of his scalp down to the nape of his neck in sweaty, messy curls. His jawline was sharpening, his lips getting plump and thick.

"Pete... PETE!" Teddy screamed at the top of his lungs, not a single patron even flinching at the toil in his voice. "HELP! SOMETHING IS WRONG! SOMETHING IS VERY VERY WRONG!" Teddy shot up out of his seat, his ankle painfully hitting something hard. He peered down to see a heavily used skateboard resting under his friend's feet, absentmindedly rolling side to side as his loafers warped quickly into large, well worn white Vans. Teddy clamped his hand over his mouth as he followed the shifting clothes, up the khakis turning tight and ripped against lean thighs, up to the growing bulge and wet patch bulging out of his groin, up to the studded belt tightly wrapped around his lean waist.

"Heheh..." Pete's voice was growing duller, more coarse as the scent of sweat and cannabis began to waft off him. His sweatervest and shirt shrinking into a sweat stained white tee shirt, and as Teddy's gaze finally fell on Pete's face... he knew he was gone.

"Broooo this shit is sick... Oooh, man. I got a j in my pocket, man. I'll let you hit it if you let me..." Pete's fingers inched toward his belt buckle, slipping under the fabric of his jeans. "C'mon bro. Don't let Rod be the only one gettin' some dick attention tonight." He winked through the colored sunglasses hiding the red, stoned eyes behind.

"I..." Teddy nervously stood there as Pete unbuckled his pants, his twinky, sweaty hand sliding down into his underwear and wrapping around his slowly growing cock.

"Yeah, bro... Come let Petey take care of this." Teddy was lost in a moment of bliss as Pete slowly and tenderly stroked his cock in his pants, igniting the joint between his lips as he pumped.

"Whuh.... Wait... I uh... I need to go to the bathroom. Really bad. I'll be back, just give me a minute..." Pete smirked, letting his hand retract from Teddy's groin.

"Well, don't be too long, bro. My throat is waitin' for ya. Heheh." He stuck out his long tongue with a vulgar whip. Teddy wasted no time bolting toward the door, realizing only as he was chest to chest with the decrepit usher that the restrooms were merely to his right and left. The creepy man flashed the same unhinged smile, not budging an inch. Teddy burst into the men's room, leaning against the ceramic pedestal sink and peering into the mirror. He flipped the faucet, water flowing from the tap as he splashed it against his face. Then, he heard it. The creaking of leather. He looked down at his feet in horror as the New Balance sneakers he sported started to quiver and undulate.

"No... Noo... NOOO." He vigorously splashed his face with the cold water, rubbing his face like a maniac. It was only then that he started to feel the roughness around his upper lip and jaw. He couldn't bring himself to look into the mirror, as he felt hair sprout below his nose and stubble poking around his sharpening jawline. He could only peer down as he slowly began to accept his fate. The sneakers quickly stretched wide and big, a scuffed black leather replacing the grey suede as they shifted into a pair of heavy black harness boots.

His breath grew shallow and rapid, watching his sweatpants suction in tight around his inflating calves and thighs, turning slick and black. The comfortable grey Champion sweats were nearly skintight now, as if painted on atop his lengthening legs. The bottoms slipped into his boots and fastened beneath the damp fabric of his black socks, and the shiny black leather pants began to creak as his own bulge started to grow round and distended. Teddy gasped for air as he felt his shaft stretch out, a foreskin creeping over the head of his weeping cockhead, seeping into the sweat and cum inundated jockstrap now around his waist and thick ass.

"Ohhh... fuuuuuuuck." His fingernails turned black as tattoos began to sprawl from his knuckles up his swelling arms. The sweatshirt he wore felt tighter and tighter as his shoulders broadened and his torso stretched upward, taking on a lighter tone as little tears started to appear around the collar and along the seams. "Unnnnnnnnff" His voice started to dip lower and lower as the heavy sweatshirt's sleeves retracted in toward his shoulders. He felt himself sweating, wiping the sweat from his lowering brow and brushing the now frosted blonde tips of his mullet to the side. He looked at his hands, undeniably his own, yet completely unfamiliar; watching them as they slowly slipped lower toward his throbbing cock. He pulled up his weathered, well loved white tank top, the intricate ink across his rippled abs begging him to go lower and lower, his head throwing itself back as his fingers slipped into his creaking leather pants.

"Brooooooo you in here? What, didja fall in?" As he heard Petey's stoned ass voice echo off the tiled walls, he turned his head as he groped his slimy cock in his pouch. His three friends, vaguely familiar now, all sauntered in looking at him with knowing smirks. "Awww, Theo. I told ya not to get started without me."

Theo leaned on the sink, groping himself with a devilish smirk, beckoning his favorite throat goat to come gobble up his musky rod. Petey took a hit off the joint, handing it to Sabrina before getting on his knees before their bisexual bad boy. He opened his maw, Theo knowing right away what to do as he spit in Petey's eager mouth, and pulled out his throbbing dick. As the skater expertly wrapped his lips around his manhood, Theo turned to Rod and Sabrina, winking. Rod grinned.

"Yeah, boy. Gimme summa that, no homo though, bro." The 6'5 basketball stud sauntered over to his bro, planting a wet kiss onto Theo's supple, cigarette stained lips. As Sabrina took Rod's monstrous cock into her mouth, the four of them fucked in the bathroom surrounded by the stench of sex. Swapping partners at the drop of a hat, sucking face and dick with no hesitation, worshipping Theo & Rod's big smelly feet or railing Petey's tight little hole while Sabrina ate out Theo's sweaty rear. By the time the Usher came in to tell them the film was over, buckets of cum were splattered over the walls, floor, ceiling, and friends.

"Heh, c'mon guys. We can continue this back at my place." Theo wrangled his little posse of fuck buddies out of the bathroom, past the outrageous orgy slapping about in the auditorium. The four walked out of the Kings Theatre, stinking of cum and sweat in the night air, knowing fully well they'd be returning soon enough.