City Boy

City Boy

“Please don’t break down now. Not here. Anywhere but here!”

Nick had been travelling through the countryside when his rusty car broke down. Nick was a rich city boy. Being stranded in the countryside was completely out of his comfort zone. Nick stepped out of the rickety old car. He was surrounded by nothing but corn fields. Not a single person or house in sight.

Nick began walked along the side of the road, hoping a car would pass by. Nick had been walking for around an hour before he saw something in the distance. It was a house. A big bright farmhouse with a barn out the back. It was the first house Nick had seen in miles. Nick precariously approached the farmhouse. He could see a big hulking farmer feeding cows out the back. The shirtless farmer glanced back at the 19 year old.

“What do you want, city boy?” The reeking man’s voice growled.

The cowboy brought Nick into his home and sat him down in the kitchen. Nick explained what had happened. The cowboy barely seemed to be paying attention. He kept staring lustfully at the 19 year old. His disgusting farm stench filled Nick’s nostrils.

“So city boy, I’ve been looking for some help on the farm” The cowboy said in his southern drawl. “Are yer interested?”

Nick laughed nervously. “No, man. I just need to use your phon-”

“Man?” The cowboy questioned angrily.

USE YOUR MANNERS, BOY

“I’m sorry, sir” Nick blurted out. It was almost as if the words just slipped out of his mouth. As if the cowboy’s words had infected his brain, forcing him to say it. Nick was confused.

YOU WANT TO WORK HERE

“I want to work here, sir” Nick blurted out again. Nick had no control over his mouth anymore. He felt like the cowboy’s puppet. Completely suggestable to everything he was saying. The cowboy’s words embedded themselves in Nick’s brain. His words were not only changing Nick’s reality, but they were also changing Nick as a person...

Nick jumped up from his seat in fear. Nick looked at the hulking cowboy. His 6’8 stature. Nick could smell the cowboy’s hairy body which reeked of pigs and hay. Nick then made a B line for the back door. He needed to escape. What was this man doing to him?

YOU CAN’T RUN AWAY, BOY.

The cowboy’s words buried deep into Nick’s mind. He couldn’t just run away... could he? He can’t just leave the cowboy. It wouldn’t be right. Deep inside, Nick knew it was immoral to leave the farmer, but Nick forced himself to keep running. Nick ran until he reached the front of the farm. He was ready to run back to his car but... his feet refused to bring him any further. His body refused to take a step outside of the farm. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t leave. He was trapped here...

YOU GREW UP ON THIS FARM, BOY

The cowboy’s words began to tamper with Nick’s memories. Nick’s recollection of growing up in the city vanished. They were replaced with fake memories. Memories of growing up in the South. He remembered life on the farm. How he loved milking the cows, feeding the chickens and stacking the hay. It was his favourite thing to do ever since he was a kid. The 19 year old grabbed his head. He knew the memories were fake. But they felt so... real. Wait... maybe they weren’t fake? Maybe Nick did grow up on the farm?

“What are yer doin to me?! This ain’t my home! I’m from over yonder. I ain’t some hillbilly farmboy!”

Nick’s hands clasped at his mouth. Nick’s accent was now completely Southern. There was not a trace of city boy left in him. It sounded like he had never even been to the city. It sounded like the only place he had ever been was.... the countryside.

YOU TAKE AFTER YOUR FATHER, SON

The cowboy began to rewrite Nick’s genetics. His lineage being rewritten. Nick began to forget about his real father. All memories of living with his loving father faded until there was nothing left. But new memories filled their place. Nick’s mind began to be filled with memories of working on the farm with the cowbo- no... not ‘the cowboy’... his father.

Nick’s genes began rewriting themselves. Changing to adopt the genetics of the muscular cowboy standing in front of him. Nick grew in height as his genetics were replaced with the cowboy’s. He went from a generous 5’8 to a monstrous 6’5. Nick’s muscles began growing. His biceps grew bigger and bigger. His chest bulked up. His abs became more defined. His shoulders broadened. His small dainty hands began thickening, turning into big meaty paws. His fingers fat like sausages. Callouses formed on his hands due to the copious amounts of farm work he had done throughout his entire life in the countryside.

His body grew hairier and hairer. His smooth boyish skin became more coarse and manly. His 19 year old face began aging. It aged until the 19 year old looked like he was in his 30s... and that’s because he was. The 33 year old’s face was now covered by a thick manly beard. His testosterone levels sky rocketed. Sweat covered his body, embedding itself in his new body hair. His hairy armpits reeked. He smelled as bad as the pig sty out back. No amount of showers or soap could get rid of the smell. It was the smell of a true country boy. Nick’s city boy clothing began disappearing, being replaced by his milking uniform.

“Pops, what’s happening to m-?”

YOU ARE AN UNEDUCATED COUNTRY BOY

Nick was cut off by his father. His eyes grew dim and vacant. His jaw dropped open. Drool began forming in his mouth. Nick’s IQ had plummeted. His IQ went from 140 to 80 in a matter of seconds. It began slipping down further and further.

“NO! POPS, YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

His IQ slipped from 80 to 70.

“NO POPS! I WASSA SMART BOY!”

His IQ slipped from 70 to 50.

“NO! I DID DONE WENT TO COLLEGE!”

It slipped down further and further until it eventually fell to a mind numbingly stupid 30.

“Imma dumb farmboy, pops” Nick flexed his massive biceps releasing his pit stink into his father’s nostrils. His father smirked.

A dumb blissful expression crossed Nick’s face. Nick felt so at home in his father’s hands. So safe. So vacant. So dumb.

“Sarry for trynna run away, pops. I dunno whut I were thinkin, sir” Nick rubbed his empty head.

LET’S MAKE SURE YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DISOBEY ME

Nick’s new father clicked his fingers. And with that, Nick felt a swelling in his chest. It felt as if his pecs were filling up. Filling up with liquid. They felt so heavy. The new weight on his chest almost caused Nick to fall over. He shifted his new weight causing the fat pecs on his chest to jiggle. Nick dumbly looked at his tits. There seemed to be a white liquid leaking out of his nipple. It looked like... milk. Nick’s once lean pecs began getting bigger and fatter as they filled up with milk. They looked so heavy. So fuckable. His nipples grew so sensitive. The slightest touch evoking the most intense pleasure. Nick’s father just wanted titty fuck his son right then and there.

“Ma boobs done grown so big, pops”

“As punishment for trying to run away, your fat tits will now supply our farm’s milk” Nick’s father deviously grinned as he stared at his son’s leaking breasts.

Nick’s father forcefully grabbed his son’s nipples and began milking his tits. It felt so orgasmic. So pleasurable. Nick felt his intelligence being milked out of his tits. He moaned in pleasure. The more Nick was milked, the more he tried to fight back against his natural urges. But the pleasure soon became too much for the farm boy. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The dumb country boy tried to resist, but he couldn’t help but let out a big

“MOOOOOOOOOOOO”

———————————————————————

And so, Nick lived out the rest of his life on his father’s farm. The dumb country boy happily fulfilled his duties on the farm. He fed the chickens, stacked the hay, let his father cum deep inside his ass. But most importantly, he supplied the farm’s dairy by letting his father milk his fat tits. Nick’s father glanced at the buckets full of his son’s milk. He grinned.

“Go get me some firewood, son. If you disobey, I’ll make it so the only thing comin out that dumb mouth of yours is MOOOOOO.”

Confidence

Miles had been standing in front of the mirror for so long now that he would have liked to kick it out of his flat right now. “Come on, mate, it’s got to work - now look dangerous. Or angry. Or intimidating, but somehow not as nice and easy-going as usual,” his best friend Gregor cheered him on. It had all been quite surreal since Miles had been given a new colleague to share the office with a month and a half ago. On that day, the worst time of his life had begun. For years he had managed to peacefully coexist with his friendliness and politeness, convinced every strange new colleague to get along with him. Miles was a nice person. Too nice to be honest. Which was exactly the problem, with a colleague who actually reported to him but bossed him around and made Miles do his workload.

So now he stood in front of his mirror in the bedroom and tried to bend his facial expressions in the completely different direction. “That’s good? Can we stop already? Please?” asked Miles in a slightly snivelling tone, scowling as much as he could.

Gregor groaned in displeasure and flopped down on the bed. “It’s not going to work, you look like an adorable little sheep even when you’re not smiling,” was all he said, pointing at Miles’ favourite white jumper and at his soft face, which was usually adorned with a friendly smile. Relieved, Miles relaxed his face again and dropped onto the bed as well.

“I like my jumper, it’s nice and warm and soft,” Miles murmured, looking up at the ceiling. He kept to himself that the jumper also kept some of the rough handling from his new colleague. He regularly got bruises when he was pushed aside when they were alone in the corridor. Mostly when that happened, even sitting on the soft office chair became unbearable after a long time.

Gregor caught just such a spot unintentionally when he slapped Miles’ side. Miles winced slightly, which his best friend would hopefully dismiss as a fright. “And there’s really nothing you can do to get him transferred? Don’t you have people you can talk to?,” Gregor asked. But Miles shook his head again. “That’s the brother of the boss’s daughter-in-law. Old business partner family. He wouldn’t believe a word I said and would only believe that ass,” Miles replied in frustration and closed his eyes. He loved his work very much, but like this every day became a torture.

“Maybe it will get a little better soon, a new job like this can be really stressful,” Miles thought out loud, but didn’t really believe it himself. He heard Gregor exhale. “I know, I know…”, Miles said and decided not to worry about it, at least today on his day off.

The next day, a gloomy Friday, Miles returned to his work at his usual time. But the two men’s office was not neat on Miles’ side, and chaotic on Gilbert’s side, as before, because his colleague didn’t care about anything. It was messy everywhere. The wastepaper baskets had been emptied on the floor, Miles’ desk drawers had been pulled out and their contents scattered everywhere. And in the middle of this mess Gilbert was squatting and swearing loudly and indecently.

The second he noticed Miles, who had frozen and not moved a bit of his body, Gilbert raced towards his colleague and pressed him against the wall, causing the calendar and the clock to fall.

“You little thief! Did you steal my necklace, you pathetic little sausage? I lost it yesterday!”, Gilbert nagged, pressing his forearm against Miles’ chin and neck so that he could barely speak, let alone breathe. Miles wanted to squirm out, but his colleague was stronger. With much effort, he managed to answer after all.

“I wasn’t even there yesterday! You must have lost them, shall I help with…chr…looking?”, Miles offered his help kindly as always, even though his breath was choked off a little because his colleague was pressing his forearm against his neck.

Gilbert smiled wickedly at him. “So you admit you hid it, I knew it was you little rat - if you don’t find that necklace in 10 minutes you’re out of a job. I’m sure Mr Frederick will find it very interesting that you’re embezzling money from the company,” the man said and Miles knew immediately that it was his colleague who was making sure that money kept disappearing from the accounts they looked after. But this threat frightened him. He needed his job. It was paid well. And Miles’ dream job.

“I’m going on my well-deserved coffee break now, loser - remember, the clock is ticking. Necklace or quit,” Gilbert said as he left the office and roughly shoved Miles into the big box with all the paper trash. Miles was shaking all over and waited to get up until he could no longer hear his colleague’s footsteps and cursing. If only Gilbert would never come back. But he would stay, Miles knew that for sure. He swallowed and tried to calm his racing heart again. He had to find the necklace. As quickly as possible. And then… survive would probably be most appropriate. Quickly he hung up the watch again, he only had eight minutes left. Fear choked his throat and panic flew his gaze around their chaotic office. Gilbert hadn’t seemed to care about anything when he was looking. Paper clips, pens, everything was on the floor. And everything was somehow glittery with silver. Miles decided to look on the floor. Surely it had slipped under the desk. So, he slid on his knees across the grey carpet. It didn’t matter to Miles that he could probably reach into something pointy. The fear of his colleague and the dismissal… but especially of his colleague was too big.

And sure enough, there, lying quite innocently, probably just dropped, was Gilbert’s necklace. Miles exhaled in relief and a whole mountain massif fell from his heart. But the second he touched the metal in the form of an iron chain, it suddenly became burning hot and flew suddenly towards Miles’ neck. There it lay around and Miles heard the soft click of the clasp.

The brief moment of relief was gone as quickly as it had come. Panic-stricken, Miles yanked at the piece of metal around his neck, but it didn’t move a bit. It seemed to weigh several tons; Miles couldn’t even lift it easily. It rested against his skin and felt surprisingly warm. “Shit, shit, shit - get off, you dumb thing, I…” he muttered, but now, of all times, the door banged open and Gilbert stood before him. Before Miles could even explain himself in any way, the other man lunged straight at him, bellowing like an ox.

“LOSER, GIVE ME MY CHAIN NOW! I’LL KILL YOU! IMMEDIATELY!” screamed Miles’ colleague and yanked at the chain that was wrapped around Miles’ neck. But as his fingertips touched the chain, he let out a yelp of pain and his figure became more transparent until his empty clothes fell to the floor. Miles stared in horror at the empty air before him and at the place where the nightmare of his last months had just disappeared. There was glitter among the pile of clothes. Cautiously, Miles crouched down and recognised a second necklace that looked like the one around his neck. It was more like a bracelet in the same style. But he hesitated.

Come on, your colleague has disappeared. Take the bracelet too. He doesn’t need it anymore. Come on, Miles… what could go wrong?

Miles almost fell backwards against the cupboard again when he suddenly heard a voice in his head. It was tantalising. Like a low, deep whisper that enticed with the most beautiful things. “What… who was that! Gilbert?!” gasped Miles, looking around anxiously. But the room was empty. Just the mess and abandoned clothes on the floor.

Gilbert no longer exists. He’s in a different place now where he can’t hurt you anymore, Miles. You deserve the bracelet and the necklace. Consider it fate’s redemption, Miles. Enjoy it, I’m sure you’ll enjoy wearing it. Put it on. All of it. Pull. It. ON!

Maybe it was the basic curiosity that was one of Miles’ traits that made him squat on the floor and pull the pile of clothes towards him. He didn’t know. Or maybe it was because he just couldn’t say no. Slowly he pulled the bracelet out of the pile and, like the necklace, it wrapped itself around his arm. Startled, he shook his arm, but like his necklace, it didn’t come off.

“Wait a minute, that’s not my necklace, what am I thinking?!” gasped Miles, but then…. he didn’t know exactly why, but… maybe he could try the clothes on? Gilbert was gone, after all. “Yeah… He can’t do anything anymore…”, Miles muttered and hastily locked the door. He swallowed and took off his clothes. His white jumper, jeans, socks, shoes and lastly his pants. Now he stood stark naked in his office. Only the chain around his neck and the bracelet on his arm covered his skin.

The first thing Miles did was to reach for the white dress shirt that Gilbert wore open at the top all the time, so that everyone could see his hairy, muscular chest. It looked really good on his colleague, Miles had to admit, even if he already hated it. The shirt still felt slightly warm. He lifted it up and sniffed it. It smelled like Gilbert’s perfume. And the worst… like him. “Oh God… Why… does that guy smell so good?” mumbled Miles, sinking into the scent of his vanished colleague. But then the desire to put the dress shirt on was even greater. He wanted it on him. To feel it against his skin.

As soon as the white fabric touched Miles’ skin, he groaned loudly. A shiver ran through him and made his cock stiffen. Miles bit his lip as he strained to fasten the buttons. The scent from the shirt fogged him. And then suddenly there was a tingling sensation on his chest. Hundreds of dark spots appeared under his skin, across his chest, his shoulders, his stomach. It itched terribly. And Miles would surely be even more worried if he wasn’t having such a hard time thinking right now. Dark brown hairs sprouted from the dark spots, curling slightly as they came up for air. Miles could feel them through the fabric of the shirt. But he didn’t care what was happening to him right now. His hands were around his cock. And then… Pain.

Miles gasped, but this time not with pleasure. But because his slender figure began to fill the shirt. His flat chest pressed against the button placket until his nipples were visible through the fabric. Miles groaned again as he felt them rubbing against the fabric. His shoulders grew broader, rounder - like those of someone who knew exactly what exercises were needed for a broad back. Miles’s head fell back. It felt… divine! Like… fucking good! He was breathing heavily. His arms were shaking. With a burning sensation, several tattoos appeared on his unimpressive arms and on his left hand. Only now did Miles let go of himself and raise his hands in front of his strong chest. He looked down. The hairy neckline triggered something in him. Yes, this was what he was supposed to look like. This was what he looked like. Sexy as hell. He wanted more. MORE! The burning continued to penetrate his skin. Twitching violently, his arms swelled. Biceps. Triceps. Biceps. Triceps. More dark spots. More hair appeared on his body. A thick bush of hair spread under his armpits. Sweat was now on Gilbert’s face. There was a crackling in his hands. His fingers widened. Stronger. Calluses appeared. He gripped his chest and felt his hard muscles, barely able to keep his arm there properly. His own thickness hindered him. He was strong. He was…

Exactly. No one will ever stand against you again. Enjoy it. Take the rest. Take Gilbert’s place.

“Underpants… Pants…,” Miles gasped, grabbing the boxers and grey suit trousers. He pulled both over his skinny legs. The smell of Gilbert was getting stronger. Miles seemed to be floating in a cloud. With a familiar tingle, the hair moved further down his body and now slowly covered his legs. When he had pulled up his trousers but couldn’t close them, Miles’ bottom pressed against the back of them first, leaving no imagination as to what a tight ass was hiding behind them. His butt crack was also filling with hair, which was also working its way up his hardening back. His thighs swelled, veritable trunks of strength, his calves though surprisingly narrow compared to the rest.

“Oh God… I want… no… I want… more…” moaned Miles, scratching his chest with one hand, grazing the hair-circled nipples. With the other he stroked his loins, down over his thighs.

Don’t forget the stockings and the shoes, the voice in his head warbled, and almost greedily Miles reached for them and sat down on the floor, breathing heavily and sweating. His body shook. A tremor went through his body with each intake of breath. The black socks slid over his feet and immediately he tucked everything into the dark brown suit shoes. It cracked as his feet grew wider and longer, filling the expensive leather shoes. From a size 8 to a size 13 they grew and were covered in some places by curled hair. The tightness of his shoes felt so right.

You are almost there. Soon you will be perfect. The voice sounded more and more like Gilbert’s. No… Miles let himself fall on his back on the floor, quivering, writhing with ecstasy. ‘Like my voice,’ he said. He could stand it no longer. He smelled his chest. She smelled of perfume. Of Gilbert. No. “Like me, I smell…. like me,” Miles gasped, rearing back when he thought he had to come already. He arched his back, pushing himself slightly into the air.

What had previously been quite respectable, but not exceptional, standing in his crotch became longer and longer under his hasty movements. Miles could feel his heartbeat pulsing. Getting stronge as his cock was getting bigger and thicker. The tingling was back. The few hairs around his cock became a thick bush, connecting to the hairs on his thick thighs. Miles made a gagging sound as his balls grew. They filled the small space between his legs. Walking normally, that was over now. Duck-sized, they now pressed against his thighs, desiring to be emptied.

Let it go. Let go of your old life. Be proud to be Miles. Let. LET GO!

And with a high-pitched moan Miles came, shooting his seed into the air in several spurts, it fell down on him but disappeared into his clothes as if it had never been there. It also hit his own face, covering it with the viscous liquid that no longer contained a piece of the old Miles. His skin darkened and like a shower the new tint spread over his skin. There was a cracking in his jaw. Miles gasped as his features shifted. His jaw became square, his chin sharply defined, his nose more prominent. His hair fell out, but only seconds later he grew a thick, trimmed beard with not a single gap. Thick eyebrows framed his new face, the hair on top of his head remained short, shaved away at the sides.

And with the last shot, Miles’s Adam’s apple pushed forward, his voice deepened, rougher, slightly raspy. A voice to roar with. The thin neck became a broad neck. The chain, earlier hanging almost to his sternum, now rested on his pectoral muscles and sparkled from his chest hair. Darkness fell before Miles’ eyes and he lost his consciousness.

A short time later Miles woke up, still sweaty and on the floor of the office. He raised his hand to his head. He froze. There was a beard. He couldn’t move his arms forward as far as he usually did. Stunned, Miles stared down at himself. There were muscles. Hairy muscles! He knew those muscles. That was Gilbert’s chest. Under Gilbert’s clothes. “That looks good,” it escaped him. He looked like Gilbert. He sounded like Gilbert. He smelled like Gilbert. He was wearing Gilbert’s clothes. And it felt so right. He felt so… sexy. Everything was perfect for him. Tight… and hard. But he wasn’t Gilbert! He hated people like Gilbert!

“No… I… I don’t want this,” he croaked, putting his strong hands over his eyes. His head was buzzing with thoughts and feelings. “I… have to get out of here! Water… yes, cold water, that always helps!” he said to himself, stuffed his cock into his trousers, pulled on his belt and staggered out of the office towards the bathroom.  

Once there, he splashed cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. The shock was still written all over his face. Carefully, he lifted his hand, on whose fingers single letters were now tattooed, to his cheek. The dark brown beard was incredibly thick and emphasised his angular jaw. From his neckline he could see his hairy chest. The hair wasn’t just there though, it was all over his torso. Muscles pressed against the shirt that barely concealed them.

But above all, Miles felt something else rising inside him that he had never felt before: the feeling of superiority. No one could touch him. He was the best. Everyone feared him. Everyone else was pathetic. He knew everything. He could do anything. He was the best. “Fuck being nice, I’m way too horny to be nice - now I’m going to boss everyone around, oh yeah,” Miles said in a raspy voice and a smile appeared on his face that had never been there before. Miles was intoxicated.

“Gilbert is dead. Long live Miles… and no one else,” he said aloud, feeling his own speech making him horny. He couldn’t work now. He had to train. Afterwards he could rebuke his stupid colleagues. After all, only he was right in this world.

Would Miles perhaps eventually be able to resist the curse of the necklace? Gilbert had also believed that years ago. But the power of the chain was too great. The temptation of all the changes were too intoxicating. The wrath of the imprisoned evil spirit was great and corrupted every soul that came into contact with it. And it seemed to be no different with Miles. The nice office worker had turned into an internally vile monster who terrorised and bossed around his colleagues all day. And found himself very horny in the process.

~~~~~

Heyhey! :D I don’t think I’ve ever taken this long to write a desired story. And I want to apologize explicitly to @creatively-bankrupt , who wished for this. I really hope you like it and that the length (over 3k words) makes up for the long wait a bit. 😅

To everyone else: thank you so much for the ideas you sent me, I haven’t responded to all of them yet, but I’m determined to! :D With the completion of this story, my request slots are also open again. But there will be a separate post about it, in case someone doesn’t read down to here. 😉

Hexed Sex: The Hog

Growing up in a witches coven had never been the easiest experience for Cato. Most of his life had been spent catering to the elders every whim. It had made him an

adept warlock, but it had been one grueling task after another. The only requests he ever enjoyed taking were those where he could venture into the mortal plane. While the magic ingredient or wondrous item he had to retrieve would never catch his fancy, the men he could have at his fingertips did. For Cato, guys on apps were always easy pickings. He had a handsome face, a slim, muscular build, and the charms to woo any man he talked to on the app. Plus, the occasional spell never hurt.

Still, it never really mattered who it was to Cato. He could always find something attractive to focus on with every guy. The only problem he ever had was with peoples personalities. Usually hookups would go exceedingly well, he would show up at their place and show them the time of their lives with even the cooler men ending up their knees begging for more by the end of it. Sometimes though Cato go so repulsed by his hookup’s attitude his plans for the night change dramatically. Sex hexes are one of Cato’s specialties and he always knows exactly the spell to make sure douche bags and assholes get what they deserve.

In all honesty, Cato suspected his magic hijinks turned him on more than normal sex; something about watching his hookups begin to realize what he had done to them riled up his most primal desires. When he was especially horny, he made a point to find the douchiest guy on the app to teach a lesson. Whether it was covering their body in a forest of hair or taking away their hard-earned muscles, Cato always came the hardest when he watched the man he was with come to the realization they would have to now live with their new body. Most of them would start to cry and beg for their old lives back but Cato’s favorites were those who accepted and even enjoyed the change, so much so that they want another spell to be cast on them. He always made sure to get their numbers afterwards. He always put the same name in their phones: Merlin.

————————————————————————

After a long week of collecting things for the coven elders, Cato had built up quite the sex drive and was feeling almost ravenous for a mortal to play with later. He scrolled through his contact list but found no appeal in any of his pst suitors. After 2 or 3 hexes, he found that the men lost their appeal to him. No longer were they the arrogant men he loved to change but addicts chasing the explosive orgasm of their first transformation. Cato opened his dating app and began his hunt for a new toy, scrolling past the kind-looking, well meaning men he would hookup with normally and messaging only the most self-obsessed gym rats nearby. Finally it seems he struck a cord with one, their profile just a single picture of them shirtless in a mirror flexing their arms with a smug smirk.

“Cute pics, come over now and I’ll treat your tight butt and hole the way they were meant to be” the reply read to his simply “Hey” read. Cato left soon after he got the guys address, only to once again miss the bus. Public transport is especially hard when you’re used to teleporting around. While he was waiting a large man in too tight clothing sat down next to him. He usually liked to not draw attention to himself but Cato found it hard to keep from staring at the man’s exposed navel, shown off by the enormity of his gut underneath a shirt that might’ve fit 50 pounds ago. Unfazed by the attention, the man scratched his exposed belly and let out a burp. Cato saw he still had crumbs of food on his shirt and wagered he had stuffed himself very recently somewhere nearby.

The man was a sight to behold, confident in his gluttony and willing to show it off. Cato knew his type, it was easy to tell who are fat but and want to lose weight and those who want to get even bigger. Gainers were always fun to play with, especially ones who are want to experience the extremes even if it’s just temporary. When the next bus arrived, Cato sat close enough to continue to observe him. He couldn’t help but imagine how this man slowly became more and more obsessed with this erotic relationship with food, to the point where he began to show off how large he had become like a prized hog. Once he got off the bus he knew what was going to happen tonight: he was going to fatten up a new hog.

After finding the place and waiting a decent amount of time at the door, his hookup finally let him inside and greeted him. “My apartment is just upstairs, glad to get to see that nice ass in person,” he said with a smirk. “Hope you’re ready to get the best pounding of your life.” Cato could smell the spray deodorant coming off the man, barely masking the odor of someone who had just finished a long workout at the gym. He had to admit, the cocky man had a devilishly hot confidence to him that was supported by his muscular frame. His huge arms bulged out of his tight t-shirt which clung nicely to his meaty pecs. Standing a few inches taller than Cato, his strong torso was supported by two meaty thighs with an impressive bulge sitting in between being shown off by his sweatpants.

Before long the two were in their underwear on the man’s bed, making out and rubbing against each other. Cato slipped his hand into his underwear and held his hard, 7 inch cock in his hand, feeling thick veins running down the surface. In response to the gesture, the man pushed Cato’s head down to his underwear and said “Take a nice whiff. Smells good right?” It became clear these were the underwear he wore to the gym, they smelled like an addictive concoction of ripe sweat and musk. Biting the band of his underwear, Cato maneuvered the garment away from his dick and buried his his nose in the man’s crotch, unable to stop himself from moaning while the smelly wave of testosterone and pheromones rushed up his nostrils. The man slapped Cato’s forehead with his dick, signaling to Cato it needed attention.

He took the long shaft in his mouth and began to work his magic. His tongue flicked around the penis, feeling its veins and tasting the sweat and body odor from the man’s workout. It wasn’t long before the gym rat began to moan, forcing Cato to deep throat his cock. Cato continued the blow job for a while, alternating between a slow and a fast pace to keep his hookup on the edge of bursting down his throat but never taking a break. When it became obvious the man could barely take anymore, Cato sat up and licked the saliva off his mouth. There were some things he wanted to do to make this the most memorable orgasm of his life. “Want to eat my ass?” Cato asked confidently, noting the man’s ecstatic look as he shook his head so Cato would carry on. It was all going according to plan, soon the first part of the hex would be complete.

Cato positioned his bubble butt in the man’s face, rubbing it across his nose and stubbly chin. The man took a deep breath as Cato felt his tongue began to flick around his hole, pushing in barely giving Cato a taste of what’s to come. While the man was distracted by the ass in his face, Cato began to draw on his stomach the mark of gluttony. As his finger danced across the man’s torso, it left behind a black line that soon took shape as a boar inscribed in a ring of symbols. Once complete, it dissolved into his skin. All the while, the man had been performing the act that accounted for the second part of the hex. He had started to become slobbery, hungry for the hole in front of him and relentless with his tongue.

Cato shifted off of him, scared he might forget to come up for air. Usually the men he cast his spells on were not this affected, the man’s apparent affinity for magic would make this interesting. Already his bottom canines had started to protrude, a tell-tale sign the hex was about to be complete, with his deep breathes through his mouth leaving it open to inquiry. His eyes lusted over Cato’s body, portraying a primal instinct to fuck. Cato felt as if he was staring down a boar itself and it filled him with lust. The final pieces were about to be laid, after all the best way to tame a boar is to fatten it up. Cato squatted over the man’s dick and let it slide into his ass, choosing cowboy so he could have the best view of what’s to come. He began to bounce up in down, picking up pace quickly to get the man worked up faster. The man placed his hands on Cato’s torso and began to thrust in time with the bounce, grunting loudly as he railed Cato’s hole.

This action proceeded for a while, both of the men about to burst with ecstasy every time the man’s dick slammed into Cato’s ass. Still Cato payed attention to the man’s mouth, knowing the true show was only about to begin. Once he saw the man’s small tusks fully form, their enlarged size and pointy tips as giveaways to the man’s new boarish nature, he knew it was about time to let him feel the release. “Let’s hear you oink, hog,” Cato commanded devilishly over the man’s loud grunts. The man looked up at Cato, barely able to focus as his mind was fogged up by the rush of dopamine he was experiencing. Soon he seemed to understand what Cato said and let out three loud oinks in a row, each in time with a thrust. On the third oink, he shot an immense load up Cato’s ass, his dick pulsating in Cato’s hole like a vibrator.

At the same moment, Cato shot a load across the man’s torso and the faded sigil began to shine. The ritual was complete. At once the man’s body exploded with fat, coating his once muscular build in a layer of chub. If he was as susceptible to magic as Cato thought, there would be very little muscle left after the hex worked through. Very quickly his behemoth belly slammed into Cato’s body, resounding in a large smack from the force that almost knocked Cato off the few inches of penis that were left uncovered by the pillow of fat on the man’s crotch. His gut was tremendous and soft, giving in to Cato’s hand. He shook the globe sized paunch and watched as the swollen moobs sitting on top jiggled with it. His arms had gained a few inches in circumference but had completely lost any sign of definition; the man’s arms he worked hard for in the gym would only be able to lift food to his face now.

His face had become chubby and soft with a much more grown in beard, almost hiding his new double chin. His jaw itself had grown, now much more pronounced and larger than before and his nose had turned upwards slightly. His brow had protruded out which would have given him the look of a neanderthal had it not have been for his now visible tusks that rose just beyond his upper lip. The gym rat before him had fully transformed into the picture of gluttony: a fat hog with an enormous gut. As Cato continued to jiggle his gut, he began to slide up and down the man’s now 3 inch penis. The exhilaration of the transformation, the new sensitivity of his belly, and Cato’s incessant stimulation of his proved to be too much to handle and he soon came again, gasping for breath in between moans due to how out of shape he had become.

Cato got off the man and continued to play with the mountains of fat in front of him. “Hog, I think it’s about time for you to get fed,” Cato said. “I wouldn’t want you to go hungry. How about I order some pizza.” The man had begun to drool at the sound of food, waiting for the opportunity to stuff his big belly to the brim. “Sounds amazing,” he responded still out of breath. Cato had a feeling the obese man before him was ride to grow to the extremes for him but fattening up his hog slow and steady seemed more fun as of now.

Tea of Life

“Sokka, just because the war is over doesn’t mean you have to act like a kid all the time.” Katara’s words still echoed in Sokka’s head as he packed up his plans to recapture one of the last Fire Nation bastions and walked away, offended.

“I’ll show them how much of an adult I can be”, he muttered and stopped at Momo, who was eating a nut on a barrel. “You too!”, Sokka said loudly and stuck a finger in front of the lemur’s nose. But Momo only tilted his head, licked Sokka’s finger once and then continued unimpressed to chew on his nut. “Great, Momo-drool”, said Sokka and wiped his index finger on one of the tent tarpaulins.

For the next time he didn’t want to see anyone. So, he tied the ropes that held the tarpaulin open at the tent entrance so that no one of the others could come in. Wearing a sullen look, he sat down on the floor and propped his chin on his elbows. He had great plans. Why didn’t the others believe him that he could pull them off too? He had already done that. Disappointed, he threw his plans on the couch and fell on his stomach.

He stayed like this for a while. After a few minutes he heard a few footsteps, apparently someone wanted to check on him, but the person couldn’t get in. It was sure to be his sister again, who wanted to talk about how she’d felt when he’d left. That was the last he wanted to do now! He rolled over on his back and rubbed his eyes. What a stupid day …

When Sokka opened his eyes again, he suddenly noticed that there was a tea table in front of him. How the hell did he get in here? He carefully pulled out his boomerang and looked around the tent. Nobody was there. Sokka frowned until he could see the little message in Zuko’s handwriting.

Don’t worry and have some tea. Your idea wasn’t that bad. Zuko

“Hah! I knew it”, said Sokka triumphantly and performed a little victory dance before he sat down in front of the table in a much better mood. A small fire burned in the middle. A small tea kettle stood next to it, a mug and a bowl with tea leaves. Sokka sniffed it. It smelled like Zuko’s tea leaves he always used. Maybe some tea really wasn’t bad.

He quickly put the kettle on the flame and when the water bubbled he threw the tea leaves into it. After a short time, a wonderful scent spread in the tent. Sokka couldn’t wait. Somehow the tea smelled better than ever. He would finish the whole pot, he thought, rubbing his stomach, which agreed with a grumble. He carefully poured the steaming tea into the mug and smelled it. A pleasant shiver ran through him. The desire to finally drink the hot drink grew ever bigger.

He sipped slowly from the mug and the moment the tea touched his tongue, a pleasant warmth spread inside him. His skin tingled with relaxation. And he couldn’t help but keep drinking. Satisfied, he licked his lips. “That was delicious … I want more”, he said and quickly reached for the pot to refill his mug. Some drops of the tea had landed on his chin. Sokka felt an itch around his mouth. He scratched it with his left hand. Funny, he thought, feels so rough. Bit by bit, dark hair protruded from his skin and covered his chin more and more. Sokka greedily put the next cup to his lips and drank even faster than before. The itching spread across his face as dark hair sprouted along his jaw and grew longer and longer. The hairs got thicker and longer, until there was a beard on Sokka’s face that was quite impressive for someone his age. Without thinking about it, he ran his finger through it, still too greedy to drink the last drop of his tea. It felt good, he thought, as the thick dark hair kept growing outward. His chin tingled again as the hair continued to grow down there and now reached to his chest. “A man’s beard is a man’s greatest ornament when he’s drinking tea,” said Sokka, stroking his hairy chin, which was nowhere to be seen. He liked the resistance between his fingers.

He was about to raise the mug to his mouth again, but it was empty. “That can’t work, a tea like that shouldn’t get cold. My stomach is already looking forward to be filled with it”, he said with a chuckle and patted his flat stomach. The next cup followed. Warmth spread more and more in Sokka’s body as his stomach began to gurgle. Without a break, he poured the next cup into his mouth.

He did not see how his flat stomach slowly bulged. Bit by bit it pressed against his clothes, which used to have a loose fitting. Sokka looked down his swelling belly. “Ah, I probably ate too much … but who can resist a good meal?”, he said with a laugh and stroked his stomach. The next cup followed. With a chuckle, his midsection continued to swell and his shirt started tearing apart. Fat began to spread in his stomach and overlay his lean muscles. Fine tears ran through Sokka’s clothes while the growing mass spread in all directions and made him wider and wider.

With red cheeks, Sokka put his hand on his fat belly. He pressed it into the soft fat. “That feels so good …”, he mumbled and grabbed one of his love handles and kneaded it a little. After all, he was enjoying his life and you could see that too. His stomach burbled again and finally, as his waistline continued to grow, Sokka’s top tore and fell to the floor. Sokka let out a relieved breath and drank another cup of tea when suddenly something was mixed into the tea aroma.

His hairless armpits began to tickle as dark hair spread in them and gave off a strong odour. “Uhgh, I really need to bathe again”, he thought first as he sniffed his armpit, but while he poured himself a new cup of tea, the smell suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore. He even liked it … with his other hand he scratched his chest, which suddenly began to swell. At first, muscle fibres laid themselves on top of each other, but then they were covered by fat. Sokka held his pecs in his hand as they were filled with fat and became might man-boobs and finally rested on his fat belly. His arms followed, they became shorter and blubber laid over his slim arm muscles.

A wave of musk hit his nose and his penis began to twitch. With big effort, he reached past his jiggling belly and rubbed his pants. But at that moment, his bum filled with fat and his legs got shorter, a layer of fat appeared under his skin. Sokka’s pants burst open and his crotch was now exposed. The scent grew stronger as Sokka’s pubic hair grew longer and began to produce the same pungent scent. At the same time his feet began to squeeze against his shoes. It hurt so much that he had to pull them off, which was not easy due to his expanding mass. The soles of his feet widened and his feet began to smell too.

Suddenly Sokka opened his eyes and the last cup of tea fell out of his hand. “What … what is happening here?”, he said, heaving his new mass up. Ugh, that was hard and his rolls of fat wobbled with every step. Horrified, he stomped to the mirror in the tent and looked at himself. He was a fat. He put his hands on the sides of his stomach in horror. He shook them and his whole stomach wobbled with his movement.

“That’s …”, Sokka wanted to say how horrible he thought it was, but then the same pungent smell as before hit him again. He raised his arms. The piercing musk penetrated his head straight through his nose and … somehow it didn’t seem so bad to him anymore.

He looked at himself in the mirror again. Rubbed his moobs, which made him moan. His penis, hidden by his belly, also came back to life. And then … he felt it again. The desire for tea. Sokka trudged back to the tea kettle as fast as he could. “Tea …”, he muttered, drooling and filling his mug again. The scent coming from his body grew stronger. His stomach sagged even further. And rubbed against his thickening cock. Another cup. Sokka’s hairline receded until he had a high forehead. The remaining hair grew longer and longer until it reached his lower back. Another cup. Sokka shook his stomach and groaned as his rolls of fat rubbed over his cock again.

And when he emptied the last cup with relish, he went leisurely back to the mirror and saw in the mirror how his face was changing It widened, his eyes turning amber.

“I … look like Iroh”, Sokka gasped and although he should be horrified, he breathed in the smell he was giving off deeply. The dark hair all over his body lost its colour and turned grey. Wrinkles appeared, he lost his youthful appearance, and his skin became paler. One last time he stroked his fat belly again, until his voice finally changed to that of Iroh and he finally came all over the mirror. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at himself with satisfaction as his cum slowly dripped down to the floor.

“Now they will probably listen to me”, said Sokka, while his mind slowly changed. A green robe appeared on his body, but he could still smell his body odour. Memories of Iroh’s life filled his mind, but they didn’t take over. He knew he had been Sokka. But now he Iroh. And he was happy. And he would definitely take it to another test drive later, he thought, slapping against his clothed belly that wobbled heavily.  He loved his new body.

Hey tf-fans! This story is based on an idea of @bladorthin​ - normally I’m not into weight gain stories, but the concept of this one was really cool! This guy really has good ideas, trust me.😉  Thanks again for your idea! If anyone of you people have ideas for future stories - just drop me a message or a question in the asks! Have fun and stay safe!

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