User211201 - TF Archivist

Lil Bro Muscles Up, Finale added

Eighteen year old Jimmy looked in the mirror. Damn he looked good, he thought. Broad shoulders, nice muscles, damn handsome, if he said so himself. “Those Boston College girls won’t know what hit ‘em,” he growled. His beat up Corolla was all packed, all that was left to do was say goodbye to his lil bro, Roy. He felt a bit guilty leaving town for college. Nerdy Roy, only fifteen but going into his junior year since he skipped Grade Four, couldn’t count on the protection of his big bro anymore. He felt worse about leaving Roy to fend for himself than he felt about leaving Cindy, his girlfriend. She was hot, but he was going to be playing the field with college girls, he couldn’t stay attached to a high school senior.

“RoyBoy!” he yelled at his little bro as he stood at the front door. “Gonna miss you, bro! You gonna be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Jimmy,” his lil bro smiled. “I’m gonna use your weights in the basement to get big and strong, like you!”

Jimmy looked at the scrawny limbs of his shrimpy lil bro. He grabbed his upper arm, which was so thin, Jimmy’s fingers touched when he closed his hand. Those little dumbbells in the basement might not be up to the task. “Alright, RoyBoy, I wanna feel some muscle here when I come back for Columbus Day weekend.”

Roy winced. “You know they’re calling it Indigenous People’s Day on college campuses now, right, bro? Maybe it’s me that needs to worry about you, dummy!”

Jimmy laughed and picked his lil bro up and threw him over his shoulder, then spun in place like a helicopter. Roy giggled and yelled. “Put me down you big goof!”

Jimmy dumped him on floor and towered over him, flexing his biceps. “That’ll teach you to call your big bro a dummy.” Roy grinned and stood up, losing his balance. Jimmy righted him by putting his hand on his skinny shoulder. So thin, he thought.

“Okay, RoyBoy, I’m outta here. You do your workouts and make sure Mom feeds your skinny ass.”

He stuck out his hand to his bro, and Roy looked at it funny, but then shook it. They’d never shook hands before, and Jimmy noted that weirdly, his hand was only slightly bigger than Roy’s.

“You hear me?” Jimmy warned with a grin.

Roy squeezed Jimmy’s hand and cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll make you proud, big bro.”

Jimmy pulled up into the driveway at 11 PM after a five hour drive had turned into an eight hour drive due to an accident on the interstate. He was irritable that he missed dinner with the fam. He’d been more homesick than he expected going to college. He was looking forward to hanging out with his lil bro and folks, and maybe even calling up Cindy. With his good looks, he’d scored a lot of sex in his first month on campus at BC, but it all felt kind of empty. He realized that he’d had more of a connection with his high school girlfriend than he thought. He hadn’t texted her though, he thought they should talk in person.

Jimmy opened the front door with his key and all was dark and quiet inside. He walked into the kitchen where his mother had left a plate of food and a note:

“Welcome home honey! Too tired to wait up. Reheat this 2 min on high. Guest bedroom all made up for you. Sleep well and see you in the morning! xoxo”

Jimmy put the plate of food in the microwave and then looked at the note again. Guest bedroom? Is that what they were calling his bedroom now? Geez, he’d only been gone six weeks. The microwave dinged and he tested the food but it was only lukewarm, so he put it in another two minutes and then picked up his duffel bag and went upstairs to drop it in his room.

As he opened the door he practically gagged at the smell. The room reeked. Jimmy covered his mouth and nose with his hand. He looked around and saw that the furniture and posters on the walls were those of his lil bro Roy. “What the hell?” he thought.

There were dirty clothes strewn everywhere, as well as wadded up balls of tissue paper. Gross! He picked his way across the cluttered room to open the window. At least now there was some flow of air.

“Jimmy, you’re home!”

He turned to see his lil bro Roy at the door. Before he could say anything Roy had crossed the room in an instant and hugged his big bro tight.

“RoyBoy! It’s good to see you!”

Roy’s hug was so touching, Jimmy couldn’t be mad at him for taking his old room. Roy’s head was plastered against Jimmy’s t-shirt and his sweaty arms wrapped around his chest.

“But, man, lil bro. You stink!”

Roy let go of his tight hug and looked up into his big bro’s eyes. His face was sweaty and his brown hair was soaked.

“Ugh, I know, sorry Jimmy. I just ran all the way from Cindy’s.”

Cindy’s place was at least six miles from here. “What were you doing there?”

“We’re doing a school project together.”

Jimmy frowned. “But she’s a senior.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have heard. I’m skipping Grade 11. That shit was just too easy for me.”

“Language, RoyBoy!” Jimmy was amazed and proud of his lil bro’s news, but he’d never known him to swear.

“Haha Jimmy you’re funny. You look good, big bro, you still working out?”

Jimmy laughed. “Of course, kiddo, it’s a lifestyle y’know.”

“Show me, big bro!” Roy gripped Jimmy’s right upper arm and squeezed.

“Oww, quit it!”

“Sorry big bro, did that hurt?”

Jimmy pulled his arm way. “Of course not, smelly! I just wasn’t flexing.” Jimmy put his hand around his lil bro’s arm. He could still make his fingers touch. “And I thought you were going to put on some muscle yourself while I was gone. You slacking, lil bro?”

“As if, big bro. It’s just that…”

In a flash, Roy pulled off his red t-shirt.

“…I wasn’t flexing!”

Jimmy stepped back and looked at his lil bro. He still looked skinny, but it almost looked like he had abs now. Then Roy flexed his arms and the muscles popped out.

Jimmy smiled. “Good for you, bro, you got little biceps!”

Roy grinned. He relaxed his arms and then flexed his right biceps right in Jimmy’s face. Was it Jimmy’s imagination or did it peak a little higher? “Feel it bro.” Roy said, excited.

Jimmy hesitated. The stench from Roy’s armpit, which had a tangle of dark hair in it now, was overpowering. “Nah, man.”

Roy suddenly looked angry. “I said feel it!” His voice this time was deeper, and insistent.

Jimmy immediately put his hand to his lil bro’s arm.

“What the fuck.”

Roy smirked. “Language, Jimmy.”

“Dude that is solid as a rock.” Jimmy couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Though it was small, Roy’s arm was all hard muscle. He couldn’t so much as dent the peak of the little biceps with his fingers.

Roy raised at eyebrow at Jimmy’s efforts. “Try both your hands.”

“Smartass!” Jimmy brought his other hand up, and pushed both his thumbs into the top of the muscle, while gripping the rest of his arm with his fingers. But Roy didn’t cry out as Jimmy expected. He just grunted and flexed harder, his face reddening. Jimmy started to sweat from the effort of trying to crush his lil bro’s muscle with both hands. Finally he felt a cramp in his hand and stopped.

Roy beamed while Jimmy shook out his hand. “I told you I was gonna make you proud, big bro!”

“That’s pretty great, bro.“ Jimmy said weakly. “You know, I’m beat after that long drive, let’s catch up more in the morning.”

Roy’s face broke out into a grin. “Sure thing, Jimmy! Let me take your bag to the guest room.” Roy dropped his t-shirt amid the smelly detritus on the floor and picked up Jimmy’s big duffel bag with one arm. He hauled it over his shoulder, and turned back to his brother. Now Jimmy could see he had triceps and well as biceps, and his dark pit hair was shiny with sweat from his six mile run. From my ex’s place. Jimmy remembered.

Jimmy gulped. “Thanks bro.”

Roy crossed the hall and opened the door to his old room, which their mother had done up as the guest room. Jimmy stepped in and frowned. The whole bedroom was pink. “Are we getting a little sister, or something, bro?”

Roy laughed. “Naw big bro, Mom just went a little overboard with the re-decorating.” He tossed Jimmy’s duffel bag on the taffeta bedspread. “See you in the morning big bro, sweet dreams.”

“Thanks bro, it’s good to be home.”

The door closed and Jimmy looked around the utterly unfamiliar room.

He took off his t-shirt and sniffed at the pits. Despite eight hours sweating in the car all he could smell was his deodorant. Then he put his nose lower down the side of the shirt where Roy had hugged him with his sweaty arms.  The stench was awful.

Jimmy looked up and and said out loud:

“What the fuck is happening?”

Jimmy insisted to his family that he was “too busy” to make it home for his lil bro Roy’s sixteen birthday, and made the same excuses for Thanksgiving. It was only on the long drive home for Christmas break that he really thought about the Columbus Day weekend visit and what it meant to him. He had always been the Golden Child in the family. First born, a good-looking athletic blond kid who grew up to be a handsome leader and Prom King in high school. Then to find coming home after only six weeks away to see his lil bro had taken over his old bedroom, and was spending time with his ex-girlfriend. Even if it was just for a school project, that seemed awkward, and Cindy had completely brushed him off when he’d tried to contact her. Admittedly, Jimmy had dumped her, so he had no right to expect she come running when he called. But, Jimmy had never begged a girl for sex in his life; he had sex thrown at him almost daily by horny undergraduates.

And then there was that weird thing with Roy’s hard little biceps. Jimmy had gone around to all his gym buddies after he got back to campus and made bets that he could crush their biceps. Most of them he could make cry out in pain with just one hand, let alone two hands, and none of their muscle felt as diamond hard as Roy’s had felt. The whole thing still weirded him out two months after the fact.

As he pulled into his suburban neighborhood, off the main road, his car died. Damn, Jimmy thought, this visit is off to a great start. After the long drive, he didn’t want to have to deal with tow-trucks and mechanics tonight. He phoned his Dad and asked him to come down the road and help him push the car the half-mile or so to the driveway.

“I’ll send Roy,” his Dad said.

“Well, I don’t think Roy’s going to be able…” Jimmy started to reply, but his Dad had already hung up.

Jimmy sat in the car as the temperature within started to drop, with no heater to keep the cold at bay. He began to shiver. Tired, he closed his eyes briefly as he thought. What’s taking him so long?

He was woken up by a rap on the window. Jimmy rolled the window down and his lil bro Roy’s face appeared, with a big smile. Wearing a Santa hat and a ski jacket, he leaned his arms onto the window sill.

“Merry Christmas, Jimmy! What’s up bro? Car trouble?”

“RoyBoy! It’s so good to see you!” Jimmy felt his irritation melting away as he stared at his lil bro. His smile seemed to light up the inside of the car, and Jimmy realized that he’d missed him despite all the weirdness of the last visit. “Yeah, this damn Corolla is on its last legs.”

“What a coincidence, today is leg day!” Roy said, and Jimmy looked puzzled. “Put her in neutral.” Jimmy did so and then reached for the door handle. But Roy put his hand on the sill. “No need, I got this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll take the two of us to push.”

“But there’s a turn before we get home, you’ll have to steer.”

“Well then you get in and steer.” Jimmy said, he pulled on the door handle, but the door didn’t budge.

Roy stared at him, smirking. “Bro, I said I got this.”

Jimmy figured the door must be frozen shut. He sat back. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll steer, lil bro.”

Roy went to the rear of the car and Jimmy rolled up the window. He could tell that Roy had grown a little taller since he last saw him, and his face was leaner and more handsome. But even if he’d been working out (”Leg day” he’d said.) he’d never be able to push the car on his own. What was he thinking? Jimmy pulled out his phone to call his Dad again, but stopped dialing when the car started to move.

“I’ll be damned.” he said.

At first the car moved quite slowly, but it began to pick up speed. Jimmy looked behind him but all he could see was the red of the Santa hat. What a goofball, Jimmy smiled. He looked back to the front just in time to see the first turn coming up. He cranked hard on the steering wheel. With no power steering, it took some muscle. Took some muscle, he thought, mentally comparing the task of turning a steering wheel with his brother pushing a ton of steel and glass down a snowy road.

The snowy road. Oh shit. Jimmy realized, there was a stop sign coming up, and there were no power ABS brakes. Roy had got the car going at a good clip, and the brakes would no doubt lock. He tried the brakes, pushing down hard on the pedal, and that was exactly what happened.  Jimmy panicked as the stop sign approached fast, and he saw a speeding truck coming from the left. If they couldn’t stop they’d be t-boned. Jimmy threw himself into the back seat and pounded on the rear windshield to get Roy’s attention. He saw Roy’s face pop up under the Santa hat and then suddenly disappear. In what he thought were his last moments alive, Jimmy was glad that Roy had saved himself.

Then the car stopped dead and the truck roared past.

Jimmy looked out the front windshield and gasped. He opened the car door and jumped out, not sure what he was seeing. Roy was at the front of the car, arms outstretched, hands on the hood, legs bent. He stood up, breathing hard. Jimmy realized with a shock that they were now the same height.

“That was close, huh? Good thing I wore my good boots.” Roy grinned.

Jimmy was stunned speechless. Roy had- had run to the front of the car and stopped it with his bare hands with a truck bearing down on them?  How was that possible?

Roy guided Jimmy back into the front seat. “You’re in shock. Just get in, bro, I’ll take it from here.”  Jimmy sat dumbly in the front seat as Roy pushed the car the rest of the way. When they got to their house, Roy opened the door. “Home sweet home, bro. Does your garage opener still work?” Jimmy nodded silently. Roy reached in his arm and pressed the device clipped to Jimmy’s sunvisor. Jimmy felt like he was sitting in a room in the back in his head and observing what was happening on a TV screen. Roy’s right arm turned the steering wheel and Jimmy was sure he could see the muscles of his arm working under the padding of the ski jacket, but he didn’t see how that was possible. Roy guided the car into the garage of the family home and then offered a hand to his brother.

Jimmy got out and stood in one spot looking around the garage. There was barely room for his car because the rest of the garage was filled with gym equipment. A weight bench, a squat rack, barbells and dumbbells, and lots and lots of iron plates. Roy closed the door and saw his brothers look. “Pretty sweet, huh, bro? Can’t wait until we can get a workout in together.” He slapped his brother on the back and guffawed. “Hey I guess we just did, right bro? I’m sweating like a pig.”

Jimmy huffed his breath, which formed a small cloud in the sub-zero chill. He started to feel a rush of blood to his ears as his brother zipped open his ski jacket and shrugged it off. He was shirtless beneath, and was so perfectly proportioned and shredded that Jimmy didn’t know where to look first. At his broad shoulders with their rounded delts? His pecs, two slabs of muscle like armour plating that were dusted with black chest hair. At his abs, which looked carved from steel?

Then, Jimmy saw it… The sweat from Roy’s exertion pushing the care was evaporating off his astonishing physique, visible in the chilly air of the garage. 

His lil bro was so hot, he was literally steaming.

Roy stood there smiling for a minute until he saw Jimmy’s face, then he reached toward him. “You okay bro?” The motion caused his pectoral muscles to bounce.

“Oh God…” Jimmy said. Then everything went black and he fainted.

Jimmy had reached that point; he had brought his personal trainer Orlando to tears.

 “I don’t know what you want! I’ve trained you for four months and there’s only so much I can do!”

 “It’s not enough! It won’t be enough; I can feel it!” Jimmy raged.

 “You’re more jacked than me! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met! I jack myself raw every night thinking about your golden perfection! What do you want? The angels to weep in envy?”

 Jimmy spat in Orlando’s face and walked away. “Waste of my fucking time and money.”

 But as Jimmy rode in the cab from the airport, he wondered. He felt up the heft of his pecs and the hard roundness of his delts. Would it be enough? He had certainly sacrificed enough. He’d focused so much on working out he’d failed his courses. With all his extra dough gone to supplements and Orlando’s useless personal training fees, he couldn’t afford to re-take his year and had to transfer to the state university and move back home. Meanwhile his brother Roy, and his ex Cindy, had gotten into MIT. He laughed bitterly. Guess I’ll get my room back.

 As the cab pulled up to the family home, Jimmy got out, pulling out his bags. The garage door was open, and he stepped up to edge, but couldn’t bring himself to enter. The man in the garage was repping the bench press with one and a half times Jimmy’s personal best on the squat. Plus there were heavy link chains added to each side of the bar that clinked in the spring air. Jimmy allowed himself to wonder, for a tantalizing few seconds, whether this was a new bodybuilding neighbor, maybe his Mom’s new lover, anybody but the man he knew it exactly to be. Man. Jesus fuck he’s only 16! He watched those pecs, covered in black hair, inflate from thick plates into rounded boulders at the top of the rep. He observed those deep armpits, each with more hair in them than he had on his chest. Yes, a man.

 He turned away from the garage and went in the front door. He dropped his bags, keeping only his laptop bag and went up to the emasculating pink guest room, ignoring his mother’s question: “Jimmy is that you?”

 He opened his laptop and logged into the wifi. He needed answers. Why? He suddenly remembered Abigail, that British chick who constantly talked about literature, and called out his name as she rode his cock. What was it she had said that time after they’d fucked? Something about names? “Names tell you all. Your name it your destiny.” Huh.

 He typed into Google: “Meaning of name Jimmy”

 He squinted at the answer: “Diminutive of James.”

 He typed into Wiktionary: “Diminutive”

Answer: “Extremely small, tiny.” Fuck.

 He typed again: “Meaning of name James”

 “English version of Hebrew Jacob. Examples from history: James the Lesser.”

 He stared blankly at the screen. Eventually he typed:

 “Meaning of name Hebrew Jacob.”

 Answer: “Envious of hairy brother. Heel grabber.”

 Jimmy nodded feeling a sense of relief. He felt his hands tremble as he typed, finally:

 “Meaning of name Roy.”

 ***

 Jimmy stepped into the garage. He stood calmly while his brother Roy rose from the bench. His body unfurled itself in its majesty until he was several inches taller, a foot wider and utterly superior in every possible way. Roy raised his arm to rub his neck as he greeted his bro, now clearly the “lil bro”.

 “Hey bro.”

 Jimmy leaned in slightly and sniffed, absorbing some of his brother’s testosterone funk.

 Then he bent the knee.

 “My king.”

 The End.

[Inspired by @theobromic​‘s amazing commission!]

This Is The Future That Liberals Want

The Bald Bug

The parasite had gotten to work so quickly you hadn’t known how to react. It had all started with that one lick. That one, stupid, horny, misguided, inappropriate, deliciously perfect lick. Yet that one lick is what had gotten you sick.

“Go on,” the older male purred, maybe 10 years your senior at most. “I know you wanna.”

It was a rumor that had been spreading around the gay world everywhere. This new parasite that–unlike AIDS–actually only affected gay men. They called it the “Bald Bug,” and it spread by any bodily fluid. Apparently, the parasite turned any homosexual into a stereotypical straight man; one that was particularly ripe with a libido beyond control and an urge for semination. This bug wanted to conquer, multiply, and spread. 

“Look at them,” he pushed his feet out further. “These bad boys want some…need some attention.”

But it had only been a rumor online. You didn’t really believe in the conspiracy theories. Some accounts had said it hadn’t reached the news because the government had released it, hoping to repopulate after years of low fertility rates. But again, you didn’t give in to the madness. A lot of facts didn’t line up, and others did too conveniently. Anyway, all you saw in this guy was a closeted hookup. And all you saw right now were his big, sweaty feet that were begging to be loved.

“Size 13.” He crossed his arms, getting tired of waiting for me to engage. “You gonna do it or what?”

I lunged, sending one long swipe of my tongue across his feet in a tantalizing movement. I moaned with delight as I tasted the salt that coated his soles sink into my mouth. I shivered in fear when a fiendish smirk wrapped itself around his bearded jaw.

“That’s right, fag,” he chuckled. “Hope you didn’t care for that pretty quiff of yours. That queerdo haircut will be wiped away in no time.”

That was the last part of the rumor. You could tell who had been infected because the victims all shared a particularly notable outcome: every man was left bald. And because no one was working on a cure (because these were all just rumors after all), the effects were irreversible. Your eyes widened as you lifted yourself up and away from his deliciously odorous toes, their beauty now tarnished. You looked him over; his bald head, his confident aura, his very soft cock in his very straight attire. Only now did you notice all the signs. You grabbed your things and ran, his brutish laugh following from behind. You were infected.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, you could already feel that the bug’s work had begun. Your original twinky frame would’ve never been able to carry you the last part of that run. Locking the door behind you, you dropped your things and ran to your bedroom, frantically investigating your body in your full-sized mirror. The shirt you wore now looked more like a crop top, being that it had lifted above the navel and appeared tighter around your upper chest. Your jeans had a similar problem, now landing partially over your enlarging calves when they should have brushed the tops of your feet. The feet that shouldn’t have looked so monstrously large.

Quickly, you grabbed the collar of your tee shirt and ripped it off your body, hoping to save it from a fate you feared could be possible. The fate your jeans suffered moments later. In moments, your height stretched up to well above 6 feet, stretching out the jeans beyond repair as large rips occurred near your newly bulky thighs and muscled bum. Not knowing what else to do, you tore away at the shredded remains of the denim, every pull becoming easier as the parasite expanded the tissues in your arms with strength more appropriate for holding a woman down in an animalistic fertilization.

Luckily, your underwear had been a little more conforming to the stretching nature of your situation. With your newly-callusing hands, you quickly disrobed and watched as your previously-small dick emerged forward. It piled on inch by inch as it thickened outwards, almost like watching a time lapse video of a tree’s growth. Your balls descended further too, yet the visibility of their drooping was becoming more hindered by plumping of your pecs. 

You couldn’t help but be amazed by the new body the bug had created for you, a true stud of a man. A carpet of hair adorned a good lot of your torso, along with your arms and legs. Even your face had changed. A sharp jaw, thick brow, and permanent beard all reeking of masculinity. And speaking of reeking, your body now gave off an odor like no other. Pits, crotch, feet–if it could make a funk that could attract women, then it did. Your body had been crafted into a machine, one the parasite had designed to work as the perfect contamination device, whether through correcting this generation or creating the next.

Caught off guard, you felt a shock course through your body and down to your larger cock. Rolling your eyes backwards, you moved your naked body onto the bed and spread your legs apart. With your head against the headboard, you grabbed your cock and began stroking like you had hundreds of times before. However, this time around, new images were at the forefront of your fantasies. Women were everywhere. Boobs here, pussies there. Big swollen breasts and puckered lips. The women could be nearing 20 or nearing 40. They could have double D’s in the front and/or packed in the back. But the one thing that brought them all together was their ability to become mothers.

Your engorged dick began to spurt at that, the thought causing you to grunt in ecstasy. You continued pumping, no longer caring about the effects of the bug and just wanting to bust a load. Looking in the mirror across from you, your glossy eyes struggled to focus on the scene being reflected. Just like it had been prophesied, the chestnut-brown quiff you so heavily maintained began to falter. The parasite pushed any forms of homosexuality, personality, and resistance out of your body, purging it all through the follicles of hair it vowed to destroy. 

One by one, you observed as your hairs began to evaporate into dust upon your scalp, thinning out before poofing away. You felt your head emptying as your quiff flattened in height, no longer able to support itself. The classic horseshoe formed first, before eventually the entire top of your head was smooth. Things that made you unique, different, and therefore could bring you on a divergent course than the one now planned for you were eliminated with the hairs that still remained along the sides of your head. If the bug was to survive, then its host would have to be completely committed to its existence. And the promise of impregnating tons of women and contaminating faggots made you so. 

With one last huff of air, you watched as the final follicles on your head disappeared. You felt a cool shiver against your newly-exposed bald head, that shiver crawling its way down to your cock and releasing your long-awaited load.

“Oh fu-”

Your words shifted into a groan as your offspring squirt in their milky substance all over your body. You took a second to collect yourself in that moment of post-ecstasy, licking your lips at the epitome of masculinity looking back at you in the mirror. Grabbing the underwear from before, you wiped up the semen and tossed the tainted garment into a gym bag. You could bring it to the gym, knowing it to be the perfect trap for some helpless little homo. 

Grinning, you rubbed a meaty hand over your Cueball head with pride. You snatched an old pair of sweats and grabbed your phone, ready to head out. The gym could come later; you had bald babies to make now.

Making a Model

Travis made a double-take as he walked down the street on his way back from the liquor store in preparation for the house party he’d been invited to. It was a shopfront that caught his eye, one that he could have sworn wasn’t there the day prior.

“‘New You’, huh?”, the little, shiny shopfront intrigued him, “A clothing store, or something?”

Travis pushed on the door and took in the space, it was large and organized. Aisles ran long and contained everything from clothing, costumes, and accessories, to sporting goods, sex toys, and novelty items. The store seemed devoid of other customers, and staff as well.

“What a weird place,” Travis moved along to a counter of trinkets and small goods stacked neatly into stands. Small bottles of what Travis believed to be novelty drinks were scattered through a stepped stand.

“Liquid Wish?” Travis, being a rational 27-year-old man, was not convinced by the magical claims written on the bottle. But, he was interested in something that might sweeten the cheap, unpalatable vodka he’d bought minutes prior.

“Hi there, can I help you with anything?”, a deep voice startled Travis as he turned to see a tall, well-dressed muscular man standing behind him.

“Oh! Um, I was wondering is this, like, safe? And, uh, do you know what it tastes like?”

“Perfectly safe! This one is raspberry if I remember right… Berry of some sort,” the man chuckled as he gestured to the bottle visible through Travis’ grocery bag, “Looks like a big night coming up?”

“Ha, yeah I think so,” Travis laughed, “I think I’ll take this?”

The men moved to the register and Travis handed over what he thought to be an exorbitant $10 for the small amount of pink mixer.

“I should mention, you need to drink it all before making a wish,” the clerk said with a wink. Travis smiled nervously, he couldn’t quite tell if the man was joking or not.

Not long thereafter, Travis found himself at the party with his friend Ben. The two chatted underneath strings of party lights in the large, decorated yard of a stunning home. Travis was making short work of the sweet cordial, mixing it into his cheap vodka, pouring the last of it into what was his fourth drink.

He felt out of place, knowing next to nobody here. It was Ben’s socialite friend-of-a-friend who had dished out the extravagant invites after all. And that was reflected amongst the attendees: attractive, well-dressed models and influencers.

“Who’s this friend of yours again? How does he know so many good-looking people?” Travis asked, incredulous at the attractiveness of the crowd.

“Friend of a friend, actually. I don’t really know them. All I know is he’s some ‘Instagay’ type,” Ben explained.

“Well I guess that explains this crowd,” Travis gestured, “Wish I looked as good as these guys.”

And with those words uttered, Travis felt a flutter in his stomach, not even thinking about the “Liquid Wish” he’d drank or the store clerk’s remarks.

After entertaining themselves for quite a while longer, Travis found himself airing his chest by pulling at his shirt. He felt unusually warm for this time of night.

“Jesus, Trav, you’re sweating like crazy!”, Ben was taken aback by how feverish his friend had become in such a short space of time. Travis reached for his forehead, sweat coating his hand. He could feel the heat radiating off his face.

“I must be coming down with something,” Travis could feel himself burning up, “I think I should go.”

“That’s a good idea, shame though… But thanks for coming, Trav. Let me know how you’re doing,” Ben replied sympathetically.

Travis patted his friend on the shoulder and meandered out of the party. The walk back to his apartment wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity with the stifling fever.

“Shit, it was probably something in that fucking drink,” Travis thought to himself as he stumbled home.

With a sigh of relief, he threw his keys to the side and collapsed onto his bed. He laid atop the sheets groaning at the heat stirring inside him. But that was not all that was stirring. Travis could feel himself becoming hornier by the minute. Before long, his cock was erect and begging for release in his shorts.

His breathing was becoming heavy and rapid. His cock had never felt so hard in his life. He wrinkled the sheets in his fists while his whisper-soft moans grew louder and louder. Until, with a gasp, he launched a load of cum into his jeans. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. “What… the fuck… is going on,” confused, he pulled himself upright and stumbled off the bed before collapsing to the floor on his hands and knees.

“What’s… happening,” Travis mumbled feeling his entire body wind up with sexual tension. A guttural groan bellowed out from his throat as his almost six-foot-tall body began to stretch. His lengthening arms pushed him further off the ground, while his legs slid out along the floor. Unable to hold it back, the now six-foot-three Travis orgasmed again.

The same tension filled Travis’s hands and wound its way up his arms. He could feel his biceps swelling against the short sleeves of his shirt while striations of muscle bulged from his forearms. His hands spread further out along the floor, the palms growing outward. His fingers stretched out longer and larger. His arms, meanwhile, throbbed and tore through his sleeves. His shoulders ballooned outward with muscle, destroying the top of the shirt. Travis’s eyes bulged and his cock fired again at the sight of his massive, muscular arms and the large, manicured hands attached to them.

“Please… f- fuck… what’s happening to m- me,” Travis crashed to the floor and rolled onto his back, bending his back upwards. His nipples ached to be touched as pecs swelled outward from his thin chest. Buttons snapped apart and the shirt fell away as his chest heaved larger. He ran his hands across the mounds feeling a smattering of hair gracing his chest. Moving lower he touched the abs that were throbbing outward from his slimming stomach. His fingers traced newly forming cum gutters down to his hips. He could feel how tight and lean his waist was becoming with his jeans loosening slightly.

Travis attempted to remove himself from the floor. He pushed himself back onto his arms and legs, failing to make further progress when wave after wave of pleasure rocked his cock. Cum unloaded over and over as the six-inch member began to slowly enlarge underneath his pants.

The changes continued their migration, with Travis’s lower half next in line. His ass soared outward, thickening and swelling, tearing the rear of his jeans and underwear. Further down, his legs filled with muscle and railed against the denim. His knees burst from the fabric as his calves bulked up dramatically. Thick, meaty thighs tore at the seams, leaving the jeans almost completely in ruins.

Travis’s growing cock jutted out from the mostly destroyed pants, eliciting a loud moan while it unloaded on the floor. Rolling to the side and pushing his hips toward the ceiling he came again, shooting across his beautifully muscular chest. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: a thicker cock, at least an inch longer, rising skyward.

Travis kicked at the heels of his size ten sneakers, desperate to remove them as they began to constrict his feet. But his lengthening toes bulged against the canvas, tearing through with a rip, followed by a moan. The soles soared into the open air, his arches and heels elongating and widening. Travis could see the toes on his now size thirteens poking above the meaty pecs in front of his face - long, lean, and immaculately cared for.

“God… augh… I- I don’t… understand… w- what’s… happening,” Travis growled feeling his jaw shift. His face shifted sharper and more angular. He clasped at his head, feeling a new nose and mouth. His short hair rustled out longer on the top, styling itself upward into a handsome quiff. His cock throbbed, continuing to creep longer and thicker while larger balls quivered below.

A large hand gripped the tall chest of drawers as Travis pulled himself to his feet and desperately fumbled for the small mirror sitting atop it. He brought it to his face and shuddered at the sight of his stunning new reflection. Trembling, he ran a finger down his cheek and moaned with the confirmation that this was him.

“I- I’m hot?!” Travis stuttered aloud. The eight long, thick inches of cock sticking out from his crotch trembled in excitement at the view. Reluctantly, he grasped his cock in his hand and stroked. He gasped at the sensitivity of the larger head, knowing he wouldn’t last long.

With a gasping roar, Travis came explosively. He fell backward onto his bed, continuing to shoot onto his washboard abs. After the last of his former self was expelled, he stumbled to the bathroom, still in awe at the body he now possessed.

The moment was interrupted by a distant buzz. It was a text from Ben. Travis’s mind raced. How would he explain this? Who would believe him?

He opened the message: “Hope you feel better soon!” Attached below was a selfie of the two of them that Ben had taken earlier in the night, except in the photo Travis looked exactly like he did now. Reality had seemingly shifted around him. But his memory and the tattered clothes lining the floor and hanging from his body told another story. Stunned, Travis flung upon his closet door to see larger, fancier clothes lining the racks and shelves. Still in disbelief, he switched to the camera roll on his phone. All of the old photos of him seemed to reflect his new appearance.

It was only then that he connected the dots: the “Liquid Wish” he’d thought was a gag, followed by the remark that he wished he looked like the attractive men at the party.

“What the fuck was in that stuff,” Travis pondered, thinking back to the store. “But whatever it was, I think I can get used to this,” Travis thought as he glanced in the mirror once more and groped his large package.

The Locker Room

Owen did not belong in the locker room. It was normally a place that he would avoid like the plague, unless he had to. However, today for some reason Alex had summonded him. Owen had no idea why, but Alex was not someone you want to leave waiting.

Owen hoped, desperately hoped that this wasn't going to be another occasion where the football team pounced and him, beat him and made him feel even more worthless than he already felt. He checked his watch.. It was time. He got closer and closer to the locker room and two members of the team were waiting outisde.

"Hey Owen, you made it" said Brad. Brad was a 6 foot tall muscle mountain. The perfect specimen of football player. Owen always felt so small next to them, the fear must have been showing on his face.

"Don't worry, mate" said Rich "you will love what we have in store for you. Rich laid his hand on Owen's shoulder. Somehow this still did not releax him. Rich did not let Owen hesitate and pushed him straight into the sweaty, smelly changing room.

The room was where the team came to chnage and you could smell it. Clothes, shoes, socks strewn about everywhere. However... This was not the biggest worry of the room because tied to a chair looking very bruised was Alex.. Alex was the star player, at least he used to be. It looked like something had happened. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around in panic. Standing behind you was Rhys. Rhys was the second in command, he always followed what he was told by Alex so this scene made you panic even more.

" I bet you want to know whats going on" Rhys said in the most sinister way possible

"I thought i was coming to speak to Alex" Owen replied feeling very tense.

"Well if i had told you I wanted you here, i know you wouldn't have come. You see Alex has been having trails for another team, he was planning to leave the school and take his talents to another team. Coach did not like this so told me to change things if you will" Rhys almost seemed like a super villian at this point. But as he was talking Rich and Brad came into the room and started to strip Alex completely naked. Owen did not know where to look which amused Rhys.

"Since I cannot allow Alex's talent to leave my only choice is to replace him. This is where you come in. We want you to join the team Owen" Rhys started walking round Owen as he spoke.

"How can I join the team? I don't even like sport. I can barely play football" Owen said.

Alex was now naked in his chair. His clothes presented to Rhys. Rich and Brad smiled at Owen as they left the room.

"Because Owen, i want you to become Alex and he will become you forced to live exactly as you do. Wouldn't you like to have a body like his, feel that strong, and feel what it is like to be popular" Rhys knew he was playing into Owen's deep desires. Owen turned to look at Alex who was silenty weeping, knowing his fate was sealed

Owen turned to Rhys and said "how does it work"

"all you need to do, is wear his clothes and when he wears yours you will become each other" Rhys spoke smiling through every word.

Owen put on Alex's socks first. They were clearly fresh off of his feet and for some reason, this excited Owen more. Before he put on the jockstrap he inhaled the smell deeply. He could not wait to put it on. Next the boxers. Everything hanging of slightly Owen continued with the shorts and football shirt.

Owen was now completely in Alex's clothes and the real Alex started to cry. Rhys grew angry at the sight and punched Alex right in the chest.

"Now. You need to dress him in your clothes and you will feel yourself start to change" Rhys exclaimed.

Owen bent down and started with the socks. Alex thought him at every possibility but as the socks slipped on, Owen saw Alex's feet fit perfectly into the socks as his feet started to grow. As Owen slipped his briefs onto Alex, as if by magic, his cock and balls shrank and Owen's new jockstrap fit him perfectly. After his uniform trousers and shirt were on their bodies had perfectly swapped. The only thing missing was the shoes. Rhys had taken his own of and walked behind the new Alex.

"You may have his body, but now I need to rewrite your mind. The smell of my shoe will make you loyal to me. You will always lead this team and be loyal to us" Rhys said. Once he was sure this had sunk in, he removed his shoe. He then picked up Owen's shoes and began to hold it over the new Owen's nose. He left it their until the new Owen's eyes glossed over and passed out.

After about 20 minutes Alex, as he was now to be known came to Rhys was there ready

"Dude... Ya passed out on us, what happened" Rhys said

Alex looked around, felt his body and looked at his hands. Something didn't feel right but he shook it of and said " must have been something i ate". Alex saw Owen laid out on the floor.

"mate, you having fun without me" said Alex as he eyed the nerd passed out

"oh no mate, i was saving him for you" said Rhys as they both proceeded to lay a punch on the nerd. Alex thought to himself, who would ever wanna be like that. All smart and no fun.

If only he knew...