An Error Code

An Error Code

Something happened.

My boyfriend Henry and I were playing FIFA on my PS4. We were messing around with creating our own players. There was something so invigorating about making some hot guy play sports for you. They could look however you wanted. Henry made a player who looked like some muscle oaf: beefy, covered in body hair, with some stupid goatee. My player had less body hair, and a sculpted beard, but was still well-muscled. They both were quite hot, to be honest, and looking over at Henry, I noticed that he was chubbing up looking at them. After we had both made our characters, we loaded them into the roster and started the game.

But the game didn’t start. It crashed leaving an error code on that familiar blue screen:

AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED IN THE APPLICATION: CUSTOM CONTENT NOT FOUND, RELOADING PLAYERS

We were left staring at this blue screen and strange error code. Neither of us had seen anything like it. The game began to automatically reboot. I turned to Henry to ask what was wrong with the console but instead saw a large beefy man in his place. His large hairy legs splayed wide on the couch, revealing his thick cock straining against his blue underpants. His hairy chest showed tufts of hair stemming from his neckline and coming from the armholes, which led to his massive muscular arms with thick armpit hair. His bearded face remained fixated on the screen. Looking down at myself, I saw large thick legs leading to a massive bulge in my grey underwear. Scratching my face, I could feel my well-groomed beard. My hand lowered to my giant bulge, rubbing it and moaning with my new deep voice as the game continued to load. The smell of our odor was intoxicating. The sweet, tangy scent of man permeated my nostrils. My dick swelled even further.

I heard the game begin. I pulled my hand off of my massive crotch and grabbed the controller, looking up at the screen through my glasses. It was crazy that Henry and I could make players who looked exactly like us. Seeing my beefy boyfriend's body on the screen running around and getting all sweaty made my dick swell again.

Once I kicked his beefy ass in the game, I knew what I was going to do with that ass right afterward.

A Dip In The Pool

This new gym was awesome! Moving to a new city can be hard, but at least it allowed you to start fresh. Going to the gym was something you always wanted to learn how to like, so you signed up for this cool new gym near your house. Everyone was super chill with the fact that you had no idea what you were doing. These huge muscular men would teach you how to use a machine before saying, "Soon enough, you'll look like me!" They were so encouraging! You were starting to like going to the gym. But you were still so skinny. With your curly hair and thin frame, you looked like a literal mop. All of these musclemen were super nice, but there was no way you were ever going to look like them.

As you went to the front desk to check in before you started your workout, the attendant mentioned the fact that the gym had a pool. Since when? You were still new to this place, so you're not surprised that there was something you didn't know about, but still... you don't remember hearing about it. The attendant assured you that it was free admission for gym members, so you hesitantly asked to see where it was and were led through the gym floor to the back of the locker room, and sure enough, there was metal lettering on the face of a large mahogany door: Pool.

As the attendant returned to the front desk, you decided that you might as well go for a swim and get some cardio in while you're thinking about it. Although you hadn't come prepared with a swimsuit, you decided that your gym shorts were similar enough and would suffice, so you went back to your locker to get ready. After placing your gym bag in the locker, you peeled your t-shirt off of your torso, exposing your thin, hairless frame. Reaching downwards, you slipped your slim feet out of your shoes, and peeled off your socks, placing everything in your locker. After closing the locker and securing the padlock, you turned and headed back to the mahogany door.

Pushing inward and stepping into the room, your nostrils were immediately bombarded with the unmistakable smell of chlorine. Your eyes watered: it burned! The room was dark, merely illuminated by the lights in the small pool. There were no windows, no benches, nothing. Not even another person! The pool itself was short and rather shallow. It wasn't big enough to do laps or anything, so why was it here?

Seeing steam rising from the surface, you figured that the pool must be set at a high temperature for recovery or something like that. To you, that made enough sense to justify its existence. You began to lower yourself to the edge of the pool before sliding in, but you stopped yourself. Looking around, you decided that since no one was here to tell you not to, you were going to have some fun with this pool. Taking a small step back, you launched yourself forward, tucking inwards to a cannonball position. Your body cut through the warm steam as it descended toward the pool. As you hit the water, your body was wrapped in its warmth. It was almost like a hot tub. It felt amazing. Your body submerged beneath the surface, leaving an impressive splash, especially considering your small frame.

Rising from beneath the ripples you created, you reached your hands upward to wipe your face with your hands and to push your hair from your eyes. Only there was no hair there to be pushed. Your hands went over your head, but the hair that was usually there was gone. Something was wrong.

You opened your eyes and saw your now-massive hands in front of your face. They were connected to your thick forearms which met your mountainous biceps. Your torso was huge. Looking down past your swollen pecs, you saw your washboard abs, large thighs, and defined calves. Running your hand along your abs that were not there a moment ago, you allowed your hand to explore further down, pushing its way into your shorts. You grabbed your throbbing cock and began stroking it aggressively. Moaning in your deep voice, your massive body buckled in the water, sending ripples as you continued jerking off. Your bicep bulged with strength, veins becoming more and more prominent as your pace accelerated. Your breaths became short and intense. God, it felt so good. Pure ecstasy overtook you. With a grunt, you shot out ropes and ropes of cum into the pool.

Wading through the milky substance around you, you climbed your way out of the pool. You had never gone in the pool after your daily workouts, but with all that testosterone you have flowing in your veins, an outlet is good. Flexing the massive muscles that you had spent so much time growing in the gym, you decided that you were going to take a dip in the pool after every workout from now on.

The Main Event

You always took a weekend to go to the nearby music festival on the beach every summer. It was always a blast. There were usually some good artists playing, sometimes a few minor celebrities: nothing too crazy. After a long, cold winter, you were ready for another good summer of live music and a little bit of drinking. However, it seems also though the vibe of the festival had been slightly changed this year.

Arriving at the beach, it was clear that something was different. There were thousands of people all huddled around the stage. Where there usually were some picnic tables or beach chairs there were crowds of people. There was no space to sit. On the stage in the distance was some DJ playing his set, and the area by the front of the stage was crowded with sweaty, intoxicated teenagers, trashing around wildly.

Although the energy was wildly different this year, you were still determined to find some way to have a good time. Resigned to the back of the crowd, you found an empty spot on the sand and sat down, allowing yourself to bask in the warmth of the sun. The morning had been cold when you got in your car to drive here and the forecast hadn’t called for so much sun, so you were dressed for colder temperatures. Your yellow chinos and white t-shirt reflected the sun's rays and seemed to be glowing in their own right. However, the brightness of your clothing didn’t prevent someone from stepping right into you and tumbling face-first into the sand.

Looking to your side, you saw an older man with a lanyard around his neck that said “Event Promoter”. He had managed to sit back up but he was wiping the sand from his eyes, aggressively trying to clear his vision.

Rushing to help the man back to his feet, you grabbed his hand. Almost instantly, you felt your mind empty. You had no more thoughts. You were fixated on this man. The man, having cleared the sand from his eyes, looked you up and down, and nodded. Still holding your hand firmly, he stood up and began guiding you through the crowd of energized people. The warmth of the bodies around you caused you to sweat profusely, but you didn’t care. This man was guiding you, and all you needed was to follow him. Approaching the front of the stage, the man separated with an aggressive shove two people open-mouthed kissing, before taking you around the side to the wings of the stage. Dripping with sweat, you stopped walking when the man turned around and held your face with his hands.

“You’re going to be the main event”

With those words, your eyes rolled toward the back of your head. You began panting heavily, trying to cool your body down. With each breath, your body swelled. Your chinos grew tight around your swelling ass and thighs. They grew taut and muscular, stretching those poor pants to the absolute limit. Your chest, as it heaved, began expanding into a shelf of raw muscle. Your abs pushed their way one at a time from your torso. Your shoulders stretched outward from your neck, ripping your shirt into pieces as it fell towards your feet. Your biceps swelled into mountains of muscle, veins snaking their way down your forearms, which thickened, and towards your now massive hands and fingers. Dark, sweaty hair swirled its way from the center of your chest, encircling your nipples and nestling its way into your armpits, which were dripping with your odor. The hair crawled down your chiseled abs towards your crotch, which pushed against your pants, swelling to an incredible size. The man took his hands off of your face and you looked down at yourself. You felt incredible. You looked incredible.

The man beamed at you, admiring your massive frame and admiring his handiwork. “Okay, Zac. Are you ready to give this crowd the greatest show they’ve ever seen?”

Staring back at the promoter, you nodded with a cocky grin and stepped out from the wings and onto the stage. As soon as the crowd caught sight of you, they went apeshit. Why wouldn’t they? You were an international superstar. You were the main event. You were Zac fucking Efron. They had all come to see you and your massive sexy muscles. Through the roar of the crowd, you could make out voices yelling at you to show off your muscles. Staring back into the crowd with all of those screaming, lustful faces, you smirked. So they want a show? You’ll give them exactly what they want.

I Am Weed

Fuck. You were tired. So tired of being pushed around by everyone at school. You were much shorter than everyone else in your class, and that meant that the taller guys would pick on you. Although you were a freshman in college, your voice still had yet to deepen with puberty. You sounded and looked like a whiny teenager.

You loved music and saw that the school rock band was looking for a new frontman. There was no way they'd ever take you on. You were too short, too whiny, and had no star quality. You were not the rock star that they needed. You wanted to try it anyways. You never know!

To calm your nerves before heading to the band, you had bought some weed from Chuck down the hall from you. You had never smoked before, but Chuck told you it was strong and would make you feel much better. He even rolled it up for you, so that all you had to do was light it and enjoy the ride.

Returning to your dorm room, you pulled out your Boy Scout lighter and lit the end of the blunt. Hesitant, you slowly lifted the end to your mouth and inhaled.

Cough, cough, cough "Man, this shit is strong" you sputtered.

You lifted the blunt to your lips and inhaled once again. Everything became slightly fuzzy. Your head felt lighter, but your body felt heavier. As you sat down on your bed, you took another hit. You felt a warm sensation on your back, almost like the sun. As you sat there, taking hit after hit. The warmth spread across your body, becoming almost unbearable. You stripped naked, trying to ease some of the discomforts of the heat. As the warmth further spread, it brought with it a fuzziness and color. Almost as if someone had rubbed paint all over your body, the color snaked way across your torso, snaking around your side onto your chest and up and down your body.

As the warmth continued stroking your arms and legs, you felt them stretch. Bright, blond hairs began poking their way out of your follicles and curling on your body. The warmth stretched your torso, distorting the colors until they began to resemble intricate patterns, images, and letters.

The warmth stretched you further. You were 6'4" now, nearly a foot taller than before you had lit the blunt. The warmth massaged your face as your features began to sharpen, and your hair grew out and lightened into a fierce blond. On the opposite end of your body, the warmth pulled at your toes and feet, stretching them in your socks several sizes larger. You wiggled your toes as that blond curly hair grew all over the tops of your toes and feet. They were now Size 12s, wide and long enough to support your new height.

The warmth dissipated around the rest of your body, concentrating on your dick. As it stroked you, you moaned in pleasure, not noticing your large Adam's apple bobbing in your neck and the deep voice coming from your mouth. Your dick began to grow further and further away from your body, escaping the ever-thickening jungle of blond, curly hairs surrounding it. As you neared climax, you felt everything in your head being churned into your balls. You screamed in ecstasy as you shot out all of your memories of being a skinny, good-for-nothing dweeb.

Gasping for air, you grabbed the towel next to you and wiped the cum from your strong, inked chest. Throwing on a dirty tank top and some old white pants, you snapped a pic to upload to Instagram.

You uploaded, and the thirst comments were already rolling in. Smiling to yourself, satisfied, you put your phone away. Opening the door, you found yourself in the backstage area. Being ushered by people wearing black, you were handed a microphone. Someone lifted a jacket over your arms. You could hear the roar of the crowd: you are a rockstar. Waiting for the cue, the cheers became deafening. At the nod of the stage manager, you ran out onto the stage, at which point the crowd went insane.

As the band started playing, and the fans started jumping with the beat, you screamed into the mic:

"I Am Weed"

Live from New York

Standing in line to board your flight, you basked in the feeling of possibility. From here on out, anything could happen. After years of working minimum wage at Dairy Queen, you had finally saved enough money to move to New York City. You loved your small town in Iowa, but there was something magical about the Big Apple. There, you could start over and be somebody new. After high school, you wanted to go to college. Some prestigious university would've been your dream, like Harvard, Yale, or Fordham. You had the grades, but you couldn't afford to pay tuition. So you stayed. Luckily, the DQ was hiring, and you got decent pay. By no means were you living large, but you got by. Now, with enough money saved up, you bought a one-way ticket from Des Moines to JFK. You had reached out to a friend living in the city, and they agreed to let you stay with them for a little bit until you found a job and your own place. Armed with just your backpack filled with a couple hundred bucks, some clothes, and a dream, you boarded the flight.

Once you landed in Queens, you desperately navigated the terminal, trying to find your way to the E train into Manhattan. Finding the station, you waited patiently for the subway to arrive. Turning your backpack onto your stomach, you pulled it tightly into your torso. Everything you owned was in that bag, you couldn't bear to lose it. The roar of the approaching train filled your ears, and it skidded to a stop in front of you. The doors opened, and you found the car absolutely packed. You had never seen so many people in one place all at once. Forcing your way into the car, and finding a place to stand near the opposite door, you kept a close eye on the screen, waiting until the 5th Avenue and 53rd Street stop appeared. Then, as the subway stopped and the doors opened, you clutched your backpack and stepped onto the platform.

Exiting the station, you were engulfed by the sounds and sights of Midtown. Your friend lived in a small one-bedroom near 50th and 6th, right in the center of everything. Walking around, you found yourself enamored with the tall buildings and the busy people walking extremely fast. The route you were taking to your friend's apartment took you right past Rockefeller Plaza. Being the tourist you were, as soon as you passed the sign for NBC studios, you decided to pull your phone out of your backpack. Reaching in and then throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you looked up at the words. Growing up, you had seen this marquis on television, and now it was really here. Lifting up your camera, you snapped a photo.

Just as the shutter clicked, a man ran up from behind you and snatched your bag. "Hey!" you screamed. Without stopping, they continued to sprint and turned the corner before you even thought to run after them. Shit. Now what? Looking at the doors of the studio, you figured that they must have security cameras. They could help you. I mean, after all, everything you owned was in that bag. Stepping through the glass doors, you were astounded by the vast ceilings and smooth architecture. You were definitely in the big city.

Approaching the desk, before you could even open your mouth, the attendant looked up at you and gasped. "Sir, you're late, we need to get you upstairs now!" Before you even had the chance to respond, you were whisked away, being led towards an elevator. Shoving you into an elevator, the attendant mashed the button that said "8H." Looking dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to speak, but just as you did the doors shut and you began to ascend into the building.

This was weird, but hey, you had nothing else to lose. It's not like you were breaking in, you were put here. Once you got off the elevator, you would explain exactly what happened, and they would help you find security to figure out how to get your backpack back. As the elevator doors opened and you opened your mouth to speak, two female stylists rushed in and began ushering you through the hallways. The taller one began chastising you for running late as usual, without letting you get a word in. Giving up, you let them guide you into a dressing room. There, you were shoved into a seat. Finally, with the hustle and bustle finished, you finally had a chance to speak. "What's happening?" You managed to finally ask. The stylists looked at each other amused. Without saying a word, they reached towards your body and ripped off your clothes, leaving you nude apart from your underwear.

"Hey! What was that for?" You screamed at the pair. The shorter one explained. "We don't have time to take them off, Sir. Now hold still." The tall one pulled a white jar out of her bag, and the two began applying some sort of cream all over your chest. As the cream made contact with your skin, it began to heat up. As it did, firm muscles began pushing their way from your torso. Thick pecs formed a shelf and dark hair spread its way across them. The stylists massaged the cream into your arms, which flexed with new strength and were covered in that same hair. Your hands cracked as they grew large and manly. You were left with a thick beefy upper body.

The stylists massaged the cream into your feet, which grew and expanded, dark hairs emerging from the tops. After applying the cream to your calves, they stretched and ballooned as well. Your thighs were next, the short one was intensely working her hands around your thighs and shoved her hands under where you were seated. The cream made your legs thick and hairy, and your ass lifted you upwards on the chair. The short one continued to massage your thighs as the tall one applied the cream to your face. Your teeth whitened and your jawline sharpened. Your eyes lightened to a piercing blue. The tall one massaged your scalp, as your hair thickened and became immaculately styled, your head felt fuzzy. You remembered attending Harvard? No, you could never afford that. You were from rural Iowa. The shorter stylist lifted her hands from your thighs and pulled down your underwear, revealing your cock. Reapplying more cream to her palms, she began to massage your cock. Your head felt even fuzzier as the pleasure built up. You weren't from Iowa, you were from Staten Island. Your dick grew longer with each tug. You were married, and your wife loved your amazing body. The pleasure built up even more. Shit, everyone loved your amazing body. With one final tug, your thick cock shot out ropes of cum, and with it, every memory you had of your previous life. You lived in New York now.

The shorter stylist pulled out a towel and began to wipe your thick and muscled body clean, as the taller one grabbed your tailored suit off of the hanger. Standing up, you lifted your thick legs as the stylists pulled your pants on. You lifted your thick arms outward, exposing your forested armpits, as your dress shirt was brought onto your body. The two stylists buttoned you up. Lifting your arms again, you felt the fancy jacket pulled over you. Sitting down again, you were handed your tie. As you tied, the shorter stylist lifted your large feet into dress socks and placed them in your shoes. Once you finished tying your tie, you stood up, and without acknowledging the two women, you turned towards the door and began walking through the halls. You knew exactly where you were headed. As you reached the backstage area, a man placed your mic on your jacket. Finding your seat, you heard the intro music play. This was your job. The audience was applauding for you. You read your cue card.

"Welcome to Weekend Update, I'm Colin Jost."

How Would You Feel?

Once again, you're sitting in front of your screen, scrolling through Tumblr. Your feed is filled with these muscular, brawny men. You enjoy staring at them, don't you?

How pathetic. You should be ashamed of yourself. These men didn't spend years of their lives fine-tuning their bodies just for some scrawny punk on Tumblr to get off to them. How would you feel if some losers on the internet violated you like that?

My post appears: it's a plain white photo. No hot men to arouse you. But you can't scroll away. Not now, when the fun is just about to begin.

Those men you keep staring at are hot, aren't they? Your jaw is slack as you continue staring at this strange white screen that appeared on your feed. You feel a warmth spreading across your body. Your arms grow massive, covering themselves in a coat of dark hair, leading to your armpits which become dense, damp jungles. Your dick is pressed together as your thighs expand, the same dark hair swirling its way down your body. You're still staring at the white screen, even as your eye-line increases, with your ass swelling into two globes of muscle and providing cushioning on your chair. The stench of your bare feet is pungent as they grow massive and engulfed in thick hairs, but you still stare. You lift your shirt, rubbing your hands over your now-muscular torso and washboard abs, reaching your enormous pecs. You begin to rub your perky nipples. They're so sensitive. Your dick swells in your jeans as the white screen disappears. You turn your camera on and begin filming. I hope you like being nothing more than eye candy to strangers on the internet. I can't wait to read all of the nasty comments!