Mainblogyy - Mostly Just Reblogs And Likes - Tumblr Blog

Making a TOP cum his brains out is sometimes a much harder task than anyone realizes. Getting a TOP to cum till he becomes a BOTTOM, even HARDER but so worth it for me. Here at KOK it's no surprise we have a surplus of every position but sometimes on campus I'll see a man I just NEED and Brandt here was one of those men.

Overly confident, muscular, a bit dumb and absolutely sure he was 100% a TOP. So when I jolted him with my magic causing him to lose bits and pieces of himself everytime he came. His memory to get foggy, a little bit hornier, a little bit less relief from his cock, he just didn't know why. That is until I showed up one night, his mind and body begging for release, I got down on my knees Infront of him, I could tell by how he was biting his lips he was excited to feel my mouth on his cock. But when I spun him around and dove into an all you can eat buffet of his bakery, well his moans told me he most likely had forgotten all about that dick of his.

Dunno if its come up but at work I'm called clown, because I got uk 15 size feet. They LOOK massive haha XD so why don't cha get on ya knees and clean the sweat off em for me bruh

A Full Dose of Country

Cody was exhausted. He was a star on the wrestling team at his university, but over winter break he’d been conscripted to be a helping hand on his uncle’s farm out in central Texas. After arguing for weeks with his very angry mother over the phone he’d submitted to spending his month off on the ranch. His mom had said that his uncle really needed the help for the season, and to put that athletic body of his to use. Cody rolled his eyes at that; he needed to be training for the next season. Instead he’d spent the past two weeks in the middle of nowhere helping out his uncle Shane, far from his friends and anything fun. Every day was long and exhausting. Cody thought he was in excellent shape but the long hours and excessive manual labor had started to wear on him quickly.

After putting some equipment away in the shed Cody trudged his way back into the small house, finding Shane slouched on the couch in front of the TV. He craned his neck around and gave Cody a quick up and down. 

“Damn son, you look rough today! You better get in bed early, we’ve got a hell of a task tomorrow,” he said. Cody’s shoulders slumped at the news.

“What could possibly be worse than what you’ve had me doing already?” He snapped. Shane was unfazed at the attitude.

“There’s some new bovine flu or something goin’ round. Heard it on the news the other day. I ordered some shots for the cattle to keep ‘em healthy, and I need you to help me get them all handled. Shouldn’t be a challenge for a hot shot like you right?” He snorted. Cody gave him a solemn look.

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I’m just messing with ya, y’know that,” Shane said with more sincerity. “Go on and get some sleep now boy,” he said as he shooed Cody off to his room.

Cody made his way down the dimly lit hallway to the small room he’d been staying in. He wasn’t the neatest guy on the planet but the state of his room was awful, but he’d been run too ragged to care. He pulled off his jeans and shirt and fell onto the bed, and within minutes he was out cold. 

The morning came abruptly with a banging on his door.

“Cody! Get dressed and out here we gotta start this operation early if we wanna finish today!” 

His uncle’s slightly muffled voice was still too loud for whatever hour it was. He threw on his hoodie and jeans from yesterday before making his way outside. The darkness was just starting to give way to dawn as he followed his uncle’s silhouette out towards the barn. The morning breeze was frigid, blowing through his hoodie like it was nothing. Cody shivered as he caught up to his uncle, who was setting up the chute for restraining the cattle. He stood there staring, in disbelief at what he was doing. His friends were partying in Cancun and he was up at 5 am herding cows?

“Well don’t just stand there, help me secure the pens!” His uncle’s bellowing voice snapped him out of his daze. Cody had unfortunately spent enough time on the ranch already to know what to do, and he got to work moving fences and prepping the area. By the time the sun had finally risen above the horizon they were ready. 

“Alright, now you’re gonna herd the cows in here one at a time, I’ll catch them in the chute, hit them with the needle gun, and let ‘em out into that second pen. Simple enough right?” Shane said, again with too much energy.

“Yea, sounds good.” Cody huffed, already feeling fatigued. He jogged back outside to start herding some of the cattle into the pens. He was surprised at how smoothly the entire operation was, within an hour they’d processed a dozen cattle. The problem now was getting the bigger ones in. Cody wasn’t normally afraid of a longhorn but in this situation he was tense, to put it lightly. Keeping his distance as much as possible, he slowly ushered the bull towards his uncle. As they neared their setup he had to get closer and more forceful, before finally spooking the animal into running into the chute. Shane slammed down the gates, holding the frantic bull inside the shaking apparatus.

“Cody!” Shane yelled over the racket, “Come hold this down so I can get a good shot!”

Cody hopped the fence and darted over to his uncle, holding the lever down against a raging bull. Shane was right next to him fiddling with the needle gun to refill it.

“Damn thing always jams at the worst times I swear…” he muttered before finally loading it properly. He squeezed up next to Cody to get close to the animal’s neck and leaned in to administer the shot. In that instant, the bull thrashed. Cody saw the massive horns swinging his direction and panicked, jerking to the side away from the head, directly into his uncle. They both toppled to the ground, and Cody felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The bull knocked open the gates with no one to hold them down and dashed out into the pasture.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said as he climbed to his feet, “You alright Cody?”

“Yea… I think so,” Cody mumbled as he stood up, feeling a pulsing pain in his gut. He lifted his shirt to find a small pinprick on his stomach surrounded by a reddened area.

“Aw shit, I must’ve hit you with the gun when we fell.” He walked over to Cody and kneeled down to look closely. “It’s a big needle for the cattle is all, you should be fine I think,” he said. Cody felt less than convinced. He scratched at the slightly itchy spot before letting his shirt down.

“C’mon, we’ve got plenty more cows to handle today. None of ‘em should be that aggressive again,” Shane said while inspecting the chute. Cody was a little shocked at how nonchalant his uncle was about what just happened. Cody headed back out to the pens to continue his job, but the slight itching on his stomach kept his mind divided. Surely nothing in a cow vaccine would be dangerous to a human right? They ate the cows in the end anyway, he thought with a slight chuckle.

Eventually the cows' persistent mooing brought them back to the present, and Cody’s thoughts slipped away from the earlier events. The work got his blood pumping, sending the vaccine’s contents all around his body. While the itch on his stomach finally subsided, a growing uncomfortable feeling was arising in his groin. The viral load had reached his balls, and while it was dormant for cows, the same couldn’t be said for Cody. It entered his cells and began making some changes down there. His balls began to swell, first to the size of walnuts before stretching his sack even more, plumping up to the size of large eggs. His newly enlarged testicles began to flood his body with more testosterone than ever before, laced with some bovine hormones.

His cock was the first to respond, twitching as it slowly grew hard, pressing against Cody’s compression underwear. His cock pulsed, head flaring as it stretched out, engorging to his full size of seven inches. Cody reached down to try and relieve some of the pressure, unaware of what was happening. He adjusted the band of his underwear, allowing more space for his cock to grow. And grow it did, pushing well past seven inches. The sensation of his throbbing member against his tight underwear was driving his body wild, even if he was distracted. His cock reached 11 inches, fully visible with a rock hard imprint in his underwear. Cody tried to adjust his growing package through his pants, oblivious to the situation below. As it capped out a glob of precum shot out of the tip, before the entire shaft thickened to a girth he could’ve only imagined before. A steady stream of precum began to flow afterward, creating an ever growing wet spot through his jeans. 

As Cody continued wrangling cattle, the steady stream of hormones from his massive balls continued to spread. An itch reappeared, but this time in his groin. He’d always kept himself clean shaven down there, but a slight shadow had appeared around the base of his cock. Clear cut hairs were starting to crop up again, a wave of short but dark stubble expanding outward. The hairs didn’t remain short for long, as his bush began to regrow with a vengeance. They pushed out of his skin, curling together as new hairs began to fill in between the old. The hairs pushed out longer and longer, weaving into a dense mat. The forest continued to spread, with thick hairs coating his low hanging balls and expanding out onto his thighs. The hairs began crawling up his lengthy shaft, covering the lower half in a furry sheath. Cody again scratched at his crotch, not noticing the dense growth from outside his jeans. As he finished up working for the day, hairs were slowly popping up further and further up, building a trail from his forested bush to his navel. The thick rug was pushing out against his compression underwear, slowly growing thicker as more hairs filled in.

Cody wiped the sweat from his forehead as his uncle was finally putting away the equipment from the day. He was more exhausted than he’d ever felt, and he didn’t believe he’d ever say that after enduring countless grueling wrestling training sessions with his coach. Thinking on them, he found it harder to recall those experiences despite his muscles aching, but he chalked it up to the brutal day he’d had. The sun was already below the horizon by the time they got back to the house. Cody figured he’d take a shower while Shane was throwing some kind of dinner together, and headed back to his room. He pulled off his hoodie and sweat-soaked shirt, revealing the crawling vine of dark hair making its way up his abs.

“What the fuck?” Cody blurted out in shock. He ran his fingers through the wiry curls exposed above his waistline. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and stuck his hand down in his underwear, deep into the lush sweaty forest that’d been absent when he pulled on his pants that morning. His jaw dropped. What the hell was happening here? He pushed his hand farther in only to find his now massive cock, and his eyes went wide. He darted into the bathroom and yanked down his underwear. In the mirror fully exposed was his flaccid nine inch cock, drooped in front of his comically large balls, all buried within the thickest bush he’d ever seen. Cody delicately handled his dangling member, and the slightest touch had it growing hard, leaking precum from the tip. He was stunned, standing there with precum spilling over one hand and the other buried in the thicket of hair.

As he stood there staring, the virus reached his brain. His panicked face slowly morphed into a grin. This was kinda hot, he thought. Who doesn’t love a massive dick, right? Cody began to rub his hands through the thick tangle of hair, feeling the curls catch around his fingers. His cock throbbed as it grew hard, reaching its full size. He grabbed it with his other hand, feeling the softer hairs that were poking out of his shaft. Cody, overcome with pleasure, let himself go. He stroked with one hand and explored his furry groin with the other. Within a minute he was ready to climax, grunting as he shot thick ropes onto the mirror. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, senses returning. He collapsed back onto the toilet behind, taking a moment to catch his breath before cleaning up his mess.

“Cody! Dinner’s on the table!” His uncle shouted from the kitchen. Cleaning would have to wait. Cody stuffed his still partially hard cock back into his tight underwear and threw on the rest of his clothes before heading out. He still had a grin plastered on his face, and Shane noticed.

“What’s got you in good spirits now, boy?”

“Aw nothin’ just proud of a good day’s work” Cody replied, suddenly caught off guard with his manner of speaking. That voice was his but didn’t sound like him, it was almost… country. No, he’d always spoken like that, he was from Texas after all. The smell of the sizzling food on the table grabbed his attention and he swiftly forgot about his concern. He scarfed the meal down, his body subconsciously needing the fuel. He suppressed a large belch before standing up, thanking Shane for the food, and heading back to his bed. Cody stripped off his shirt and jeans before flopping down onto the mattress, exhausted and stuffed. 

As he laid there, twirling his new pubes between his fingers, he let his thoughts drift back to his friends from school off on their vacations. He wasn’t as jealous anymore. In fact, maybe he was on the better end of that deal. All this manual labor was keeping him in shape for the season; getting drunk daily on the beach wouldn’t do that! His cock began to chub up at the thought of him finally putting on the mass to be at the top of his weight class. Precum leaked down his shaft and into his musky forest as Cody drifted off.

Cody woke in a sweat to a familiar banging on his door. He peeled himself off the sheets, looking at the vaguely body shaped sweat pool he’d left. He himself was also soaked. Then the  smell hit him, a musky sweaty stench had filled the room throughout the night. Cody was confused, he’d never sweat like this, not even after his gym sessions, it wasn’t even hot inside the house. He looked down at himself to see drops slowly streaming down his chest and stomach, which had grown slightly more covered with hair. He thoughtlessly scratched at his chin, fingers raking through small bristles that hadn’t been there before. With no time to ponder more he threw on some jeans and a tank top and ran out towards the barn.

Cody and Shane quickly got to work on the day’s tasks, eager to get as much done as possible before the sun got too harsh. Cody found it easier to get into what he was doing, it felt more natural somehow. As he worked up even more of a sweat than he’d woken up with, the combination of virus and testosterone got pumped around his body at an accelerated rate. The bristles on his chin began to poke out a little more; a shadow of stubble spread across his jaw and up onto his cheeks. Cody scratched at the growing stubble, not noticing the difference from his baby smooth physique before.

That smooth skin was quickly becoming a memory, as his upper lip was covered by the same shadow, dark spots turning into short hairs that pushed out longer and longer. The wiry hairs sprouting from his face grew thicker by the minute, new wisps shooting out between the maturing hairs. He’d grown into a scruffier version of himself, the shadow of stubble creeping down his neck as the hairs on his chin, upper lip, and cheeks fluffed out more.

As he worked, Cody’s arms pumped up more than usual and his legs following suit. His already well defined pecs began to feel sore as they pushed out, stretching his tank even more than usual. What had been rolling hills turned into mountains as muscle packed on. The soreness was quickly replaced with a subtle itch; the tendril of thick curls reaching up from his groin began to climb higher. Hairs shot up north of his navel, growing in a line up towards his beefier chest. His collarbone was the first to react to the cocktail of hormones surging inside him. A lone dark hair shot up over the collar of his tank. Another curled out, and then another. Wispy hairs began to crop up along the top of his chest, cresting over the neck of his tank. The beads of sweat covering his chest only seemed to fertilize more growth, matting the hairs to his skin in swirls and spirals of masculinity. Before long a rug had begun to form on his chest, hairs pushing out and puffing up his tank as it struggled against his growing body.

By mid afternoon, they’d finished everything for the day. Cody’s sudden burst of work ethic surprised Shane, who didn’t seem to notice his nephew’s burgeoning beard. Cody could feel the pump in his body, it was sore but he felt electric after working all morning.

“Whew, that went smoother than I ever figured,” Shane laughed and slapped Cody on the back. “Why don’t we enjoy a beer and take the rest of the day off.”

“Can’t say no to that I s’pose,” Cody responded with a smile. The two walked back to the house and settled out on the back porch. Shane grabbed some beers from inside and tossed one to Cody.

“Seems like you’re getting the hang of all this work around here, son. I could use a hand like yours more often!” Shane howled and cracked open his can. 

“Well, y’know, I guess I’m startin’ to enjoy it all a bit. Somethin’ about it out here makes me wanna stay,” Cody said with a heavier accent than even his uncle. Shane smiled back at him. The two chatted with a better rapport than ever as Cody downed his beer, and then another, and then two more.

His stomach gurgled as more hair spread across his stomach, fully burying his abs under a dark coat of hair. The line reached up to his chest widened, small fuzzy hairs spreading out before thickening up. Cody’s sweat covered chest followed suit. In the cleft between his pecs, hairs pressed their way out, spreading outwards as they grew in denser and darker and caught more sweat. What had been light fuzz across the wide expanse of his muscular form was corrupted by testosterone, follicles going into overdrive pushing out thicker darker hairs. The rug spread out around his nipples and upwards, merging with the hairs covering his collarbone as more continued to pop up towards his shoulders and up his neck. 

Cody was in the middle of downing another beer when a rank stench filled his nose. It was familiar, almost like the one from when he’d woken up. He lifted his arm and was greeted with a faceful of powerful body odor; his pits had become ripe and full of hours worth of sweat. He watched as the carefully shaven skin tinted dark as hairs sprouted en masse. It seemed like a waterfall in slow motion, watching the dark hairs pour out of his pit, growing longer and longer as they trapped more sweat in his damp pit. The growth spread, hairs pushing beyond the edges of his pits and growing the forest larger until it blended with the rug on his chest. His other pit itched as the same growth began to take place, a thick tuft of hair erupting. He could feel the wiry hairs pushing out between his arm and torso, growing bushier and escaping the bounds of his underarm. 

He should’ve been shocked, alarmed, panicked, anything of the sort, but instead he just stuck his hand into the damp jungle to scratch it. His fingers dug into the thick forest, digging deep to get at the sweaty skin below. Upon pulling his hand out he automatically sniffed it, as if he’d done so for a lifetime. The aroma filled his nose, the ripe stench causing his cock to shoot out a spurt of precum. The virus had gotten its foothold, altered his thinking enough to not only be nearly unaware of the changes, but to be aroused by them, to desire them. He leaned back in the chair, lifting his arms behind his head and exposing his hairy matted pits to the world.

The chair groaned under Cody as his body slowly swelled, muscles growing larger and thicker. His back popped as it grew wider, shoulders broadening as his traps and delts exploded with size. His tank top, already at its limit, began to tear at the sides where his lats were widening. Cody scratched at a slight itch on his shoulder, not thinking much of it, but the dusting of hairs on his shoulders had begun to spread, new curls cropping up all over. The wave of fur stretched from his forested chest up over his collarbone to his traps and shoulders before starting its descent. The itch crept down towards his shoulder blades as thin hairs pushed out, quickly growing from fuzz into fur. It almost looked like Cody was developing wings made of hair, as the patches knit together, creeping towards his spine to join into one hairy coat. The bristles continued working down, sprouting into thick stands that tangled together as they pushed out, growing denser as testosterone drenched each and every follicle. The burgeoning trail of hair reached his waistband, where it exploded into a sweaty tuft just above his ass. The hairs continued to fill in until his entire back was coated, a sweat-matted rug that was even curling around his sides to connect with the field of hair on his stomach. 

Cody shifted in his seat, trying to shake an uncomfortable feeling growing down in his underwear. His ass had been filling out all day, stretching his underwear to its limit, but this was different. Deep between his cheeks, thick hairs were slowly pushing out around his hole. They grew dark and wiry, tickling him as they squeezed between his massive cheeks. More hairs began to press out, surrounding his hole before spreading outwards. The shadow of loaded follicles crept over both his cheeks, and shortly after the hairs burst forth in a wave, pushing against his tight underwear as his ass disappeared beneath the growing fur. The hair continued to spread, connecting to his furry back and to his jungle of pubes which similarly thickened even more.

Cody reached down to scratch at his crotch, and paused for a moment after seeing his hand. It was much thicker than it’d been, with rough, calloused palms and thick sausages for fingers. He flipped it over and watched as a thick dark hair wormed out of his knuckle, followed by another, and in seconds there were dark tufts of hair popping up across his hand. The hairs crawled up towards his forearm, where his once soft dusting of wispy brown hairs was overrun by new dense growth. The hairs pushed out long and wove together into a puffy forest that climbed up his arm, the growth not petering out in the slightest. His beefy triceps vanished beneath the growing fur as it reached towards the thick hairs on his shoulders.

He watched the hairs overtake his once smooth and tanned skin but, rather than alarm. all Cody felt was arousal, with his cock chubbing up in his pants. He was half tempted to use that newly hairy hand to grab it, but he restrained himself. Not in front of Shane, it could wait. The sun had started to set, and as if on cue his uncle spoke up.

“Welp, better get workin’ on some supper,” he said, hoisting himself out of his chair. He left Cody out on the patio, finally giving his nephew a quiet moment to himself. Cody gazed out over the pastures, glowing in shades of orange and gold from the sunset. He could get used to it out here, he thought to himself. The desire to get back to wrestling with his team had slipped even further, he’d barely mentioned them during his and Shane’s multi-hour banter. The virus had been multiplying in his head, suppressing those neural connections in favor of those made recently on the ranch. He wanted to stay here on the ranch with the cattle, giving the virus more chance to spread to others. It would do anything to make that a reality.

Cody watched the sun slip below the horizon and headed back to his room. He tried to pull off his tank but instead it shredded, unable to cope with his massive body. He laid down on the bed, feeling the thick hairs on his back rub against the sheets. It was an electric feeling, and very quickly the bulge down there had doubled in size from the sensation. He brought one hand up to the dense rug of hair on his chest, not questioning how it’d grown since the morning, raking his fingers through the wiry swirls of hair. It felt amazing. A wet spot appeared on his jeans and grew as he stroked the thick chest hairs, before he stripped off his pants and underwear to free his fully erect cock from confinement, dribbling precum down its side.

His other hand he brought up to his face, feeling the fluffy growth. It was lighter than the rest of his new growth, but as he scratched at his cheeks he could feel new hairs poking out. The hairs grew in thicker and denser, his beard filling in as skin vanished underneath. The follicles continued to pump out hair after hair, thicker and darker than before as hormones completed his change. The beard hairs pushed out longer and longer, tangling into a solid block of hair that hid his face and neck as it grew down. The bristles poked out higher up on his cheeks, claiming as much of his face as they could. Cody was in ecstasy, feeling his beard come in around his fingers. His cock pulsed without him even needing to touch it, the testosterone coursing through his body thickening all the hairs into a seamless pelt. 

He loved his new body, his new fur, and he had to make it permanent. The virus guiding him, he reached down to his cock, his grip not even enough to surround the girth, and pumped it once up and down. With just that, Cody moaned in a newly gruff voice as he climaxed, his cock erupting with a geyser of cum. Rope after rope of thick cum landed all over his body, getting stuck in the forest of hair engulfing him. As the last load dribbled out of the tip his body relaxed, so did his old life of college and wrestling. Cody laid there, plastered with his own load as waves of pleasure echoed through his body. This was the life, he thought, still rubbing his hands through his cum soaked fur. 

Cody managed to clean himself up a bit by the time Shane called from the kitchen. He sat across from his uncle at the table while they ate, resuming the banter from earlier. At the end of the meal Cody finally decided it was time.

“Y’know Shane, I think I’d like to stick around for good.”

This story is my submission to @occamstfs 2000 follower writing challenge. Definitely my longest one yet, thanks everyone for reading to the end! I hope y'all enjoyed it, and thanks to Occam himself for the motivation, inspiration, and editing he did!

Welcome to the club! As a hiatused TF writer myself, you’re doing an amazing job.

Now, the request…

Despite acting up the tough guy role online, I’m not that strong in real life. My dream is to be a pillar of strength to everyone around me, and although I’ve started going to the gym, it’s taking awhile to get there. Think you can help me with that?

Aw thanks for the welcome! And as an offer of gratitude, I offer you to test drive one of our new workout tapes. I'm into the whole VHS aesthetic and there's something pleasantly nostalgic about it that I think it'll be popular. Even better, our tapes come with a VHS player in case you don't have one yourself.

So go ahead and stick the tape in. Change into your most comfortable workout gear - in your case: shorts and a nice sleeveless tee - and let me guide you through the stages of your workout!

Okay, first things first: it's important to stretch. As you go through the stretches, I really want you to pay attention to the surge of testosterone that's centering around your balls which feel like they're heating up. Your cock stands ramrod straight in your shorts, hard and pulsing, so hard it's like you can feel every ridge and vein of it pulsing as it almost slips out of your jockstrap, the head just barely grazing your thighs. You'll know you're really stretching right when you feel your hole start to twitch in response, like it too is joining this workout.

Feels weird doesn't it?

Having it pucker and twitch like that. Growing more sensitive and greedier with each lunge, with each shuddering breath you take as your cock starts leaking in your jock. The horniness is really setting into your brain and it's taking all of your willpower not to start stroking your cock right here in your living room. Your balls are gonna start feeling bigger and heavier, the weight between your legs pleasurable and unfamiliar as you stand, the heated bulge in your shorts is eye catching. Jaw dropping.

Reach for the sky.

Feel your back stretch taller. Your increasing height makes your tee float a few inches above your stomach, your shorts sag a little off your body. You're well above 6 feet now. Probably around 6'5". Adjust to your new altitude, steady yourself on your feet as your brain becomes hot with horny heat.

Now, all of our at home exercises will be body weight exercises. It's all about accessibility and some people just don't have large weights just sitting around their apartments so we really want to make our workouts something everyone can do.

The first thing we're gonna do is squats. Really gonna target those glutes and thighs. Your brain is probably going haywire with all the excess hormones flooding into it. All those hormones concentrating in your balls and flowing throughout your body, blood hot with testosterone making you sweat and all your still small muscles flexing involuntarily. Including your cock which jumps out of your jockstrap fully, balls stretching the now sweaty fabric as you lower into the first squat and practically yelp in pleasure as your ass muscles flex, tighten, and grow. Your thighs grow too, pressing into the empty space of your shorts. Your hips and waist sink into the waistband, growing wider and stronger, pushing against your shorts and testing the elastic. Your ass feels bigger, a larger weight hanging onto your lower back as you stand after the first squat, the strength coursing down your thighs and into your calves which have started growing, and your feet which stretch against your socks.

Squat.

Another few pounds of muscle and fat floods into your ass and that moan you bit back earlier unleashes itself. The skin stretches to contain that juicy ass of yours as hair rockets out of the pores, blanketing your ass and sensitive hole, sweat slicking up the hairs back there and concentrating your musk. The hair flows down your expanding thighs and calves, a huge bush pushing above the base of your growing - growing! - uncontrollably dripping cock. You whimper as you look down. Your legs and ass are making your shorts hang on for dear life, the straps of your jock fighting to contain your hairy globes. Your brain feels like it's becoming a horny, hormonal soup as your cock pushes against your jock as it fattens up, growing both in length and girth as it snakes down your thigh. You want to touch it so bad. You've never had the urge to jack off this bad. Your hairier feet start putting enough strain on your socks that the first few tears form. Your thighs and hips bloat again, the muscles just expanding and your thighs becoming beefy pillars of muscle and fat. Just judging from the size of your thighs, you know your ass is going to be huge.

Squat.

The moan that comes out of your mouth makes you sound like a porn star as your ass grows so big that it pushes away the waistband of your shorts, starting to slide down, the silky fabric brushing against your newly fat, sensitive ass, makes your cock ooze cum all down your hairy legs. The smell of pure manly musk and sweat comes pouring out of your distressed shorts as your cock pumps bigger and the first sounds of your jock's fabric giving it sound out. You fuck the air as your thighs grow, pushing and squeezing your hard cock as more cum pumps out of it. All you really can do is put your hands on your ass and knead the fleshy globes as a few more pounds of fat and muscle spread your ass around your fingers. Your fat, hairy toes pop through the front of your socks as your feet widen and bloat, the bones rearranging into massive size 14 grippers. You're moaning uncontrollably as your thighs go through another burst of growth and stretch your shorts beyond the breaking point, ripping right through them. The hairy slabs of beef are exposed to the air and hitting you in the face with sweat and musk. You need something in your ass so bad. You need something in your ass and something on your dick - a mouth, an ass, a hand, anything!

You think to eject the tape. Your lower body is huge and beefy, thick. Watermelon - no, pumpkin - crusher thighs. Calves like overripe apples. Huge musky feet that are so sensitive as you take a few lumbering steps towards the VHS player. You moan and shiver with pleasure as your huge, tight ass shakes behind you with every step.

Now it's time to work on your torso.

You drop to the floor in ecstasy, back arching to thrust out that fat ass of yours. You crawl onto your back, whimpering and silently pleading with the tape. Mostly you just want to cum. Paint your walls and the TV with your spunk. The slow ooze of cum is doing nothing to alleviate the sexual pressure and tension that's filling your balls and blowing up your brain right now. Your shorts slide under your ass and make the hairy basketballs feel even bigger. You wrestle them off and toss them aside, whining in pleasure as your fat cock flops against your stomach, your small tight abs, just drooling everywhere and pulsating. You land on your ass and assume the crunch position, the sensation of your ass hitting the ground shooting right to your prostate and making another hot ooze of cum shoot out. You take off your sweat soaked, tight tee and toss it onto your damp shorts, out of breath and so dazed and horny that you're starting to forget about ejecting the tape at all.

Crunch.

You do a crunch and you scream in pleasure as a rope of cum fires onto your chest. Your stomach clenches and tightens, the fat burning off and sliding either up into your chest and fattening your nipples into hard begging pegs, or sliding into your ass and bloating it bigger. Your core strengthens, waist widening further with muscle as hair blankets your torso in a dense, sweaty rug. Your musk is becoming even more powerful with all this excess hair and sweat. The hair flows along your still flat chest, swirling around your swollen nipples and making you arch your broadening back. Your neck thickens and your throat bulges with the huge lump of your Adam's apple making itself readily apparent.

Crunch.

The next moan is so deep and guttural it rattles the windows of your apartment. The whole building probably heard that. But who cares? Your abs punch against the skin of your stomach, so strong and covered with a thin layer of fat that swells over them, making them defined but not that shredded, single digit body fat percentage look. You hug your torso, hand brushing against the swollen, damp head of your cock, as your abs continue growing and sharpening, your chest heaving forward as muscle starts growing around your nipples. Your chest packs on muscle like nobody's business, filling up fatter and fatter, and you lurch forward into another Crunch as your pecs jut forward, huge nipples swaying and pointing straight downward. A dense carpet of hair fills in whatever remaining blank skin you have on your chest. You hug your still inflating and lean forward as more pounds of fat and muscle flow into your pecs. Your moans sound almost painful, but they're filled with sex and lust, like you're getting godly backshots. You flop back on the ground and close your eyes and just ride the waves of pleasure as your torso continues inflating, piling on muscle and fat, your huge tits filling out your chest.

You rub the dense sweaty hair. Travel upwards and squeeze those suckable nipples. You buck as your cock fires all over your chest, the cum stuck in the dense hairs and adding to your intense, manly smell. You squeeze and play with your muscle tits, flexing your huge, strong abs.

The next workout is going to target your arms.

At the sensation of your expanding hands, you rip off your soaked and strained jockstrap, letting your fat cock and huge fleshy tennis balls hang free. The smell of you is intoxicating. You look down and marvel at your body, the thick pulsating cock desperate for your touch, leaking like a burst pipe all over your dense, impenetrable abs. Your tree trunk thighs. The mounds of your pecs.

Stroke your cock. Do not cum until you're told.

You grab your cock without a second thought. Your bigger, meatier toes curl. The horniness you're feeling is feral in its quality. In the way that it overpowers your higher brain function. Your head swims with images of you railing scores of men, literally fucking the cum out of them and draining their (and your) balls. An absolute beast in the bedroom. A beast in the gym too. You've got guys who worship your muscles after a hard workout with oil, sometimes with just their tongues, licking every inch of your hyper-sexed form. Guys who suck you off between reps, because as you continue stroking, moaning and groaning louder and louder, absolutely no control and no inhibitions, you become so horny that you're only gonna be able to focus if your dick is in something or actively being drained. And afterwards, you'll get an hour or two of a less foggy brain before you're right back on the hunt for some ass. Or dick to fill you up, stretch you out.

Your biceps bloat. The muscles swell like tidal waves, the fat filling over the muscles makes your biceps ginormous, inflating like car tires. The surge of pleasure pops your shoulders out wider, sends surges of electric sex up and down your bigger body as pit hair grows unruly, dense and sweaty under your arms. Your forearms expand and stretch wider, and you can feel your biceps rub against your huge, sensitive pecs as you begin worshiping your body, fucking your one hand while the other toys with one of your nipples. Your body piles on more mass and strength, a combo of fat and muscle bloating you bigger and bigger. Fatter, meatier pecs popping your nipples like corks between your fingers. Abs becoming denser. Ass swelling and jiggling underneath you. Thighs become denser and thicker. Biceps blowing up, so strong you could split logs with your bare hands.

3.

A dense beard grows over your fattening lips. Perfect lips, kissable lips, dick sucking lips. Your tongue expands, perfect for eating ass or sucking dick, or French kissing someone to high heaven.

2.

Your hair recedes just a little bit. Your nose fattens up with flesh as your nostrils flare at the delicious scent of your musky pits. You lick your huge melon biceps with your bigger tongue as you continue pumping.

1.

Your ears expand. Sexy earrings adorn your freshly pierced lobes. Your eyes become dull and sexy, smoldering and always horny. Always looking for the next fuck.

Oh god you're so close. You're so close.

Cum.

Your brain turns to mush. The orgasm is so intense you let go of your cock and just let it fire. Throwing your arms back and just letting the waves upon waves of mind-blowing pleasure take you for a ride. Your cock paints your ceiling. Shoots all over your chest. You're moaning as if you're trying to bring the walls of your apartment complex down. You buck and thrust. It feels like you cum for eternity, and you'd be content to just sit there in this pleasure and feel your balls get emptied.

Then it's over.

You roll over and crawl for a bit. Cock and balls swinging between your legs. You're not used to this. This orgasm is a workout experience. You're headed to the bathroom because you have to see yourself. You manage to stand up by placing a meaty hand on your counter and hoisting yourself up. You stagger and stumble, your big feet and heavy body literally slamming into the ground. Sensitive skin rubbing against sensitive skin.

Then you see yourself.

You flex in the mirror. Give fuck me eyes. Fuck me face. Your cock starts to stir again. You could sit here for hours just flexing and feeling yourself up. Everything is so sensitive, each touch like mini prostate stabs.

I don't know if you'd be interested, but I'd love to have you here as a personal trainer. It's a little lonely here being the only one. And since you're horny again, the boys and I can definitely take care of that. Worship you. Let you feel big and mighty because you are big and mighty.

I think you'd be the perfect fit.

In more ways than one.

Reblog If You Want To Be A Dumb Jock

#Meatheads

You run throughout the forest. Heavy breathes beating from your throat. You had to do everything in your power to get back to your home camp, better yet your home base. The howls of virile, mutant men were trailing behind as you were able to get back inside your homebase safely. You checked your traps you checked your locks. It was looking good for you. Aside from the smell. The smell of something strong, earthy, hypnotic, alluring even. It makes you feel hazy but it makes you think: oh shit an infected must've got in.

You start trying to scramble. Turning around to be met with your visitor. Although a mutant. The large gristled grizzly looking man. Just stared as he brought you under his spell. How long had he been here you thought? It was too hard to think under all the musk he was producing. But even as you felt like collapsing eventually doing so. He was so quick to pounce. Maybe he was different. His hairy body felt good. His nips looked suckable. Resting against his hairy rugged chest. You could hear his breathing and feel his hot breathe flowing over your head. You even saw his dick start to rise against you. With how it looked this man beast he was going to make you his.

Rubbing you all over with his coarse hands. Growling, groaning like an animal. He brings himself to your ear, slobbering on your shoulder. Before speaking in a deep voice, gravely voice.

"Mmmm. Good thing I got here before the others did. Wouldn't want them to take all the fun. You forgot to lock your little backdoor. Don't worry I made sure to lock for just us. Why don't you relax from that running and... take my load boy. It'll help ya."

You feel him drop you to your knees limply right in front of his cock. The large bulbous head leaking strange pre and paired with a strong ripe odor that easily pulled you in like his musk. One whiff, and without his command you swallow his head. He arches his head back growling and shutting the door. Leaving the beast to take care of you, his prey, and his new infected partner.

Handlebars

Day 1:

My first day of college was a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. I finally made it to residence last night, which only gave me one night to get settled before classes started. I was nervous to meet my roommate because of all of the horror stories I had heard about them in the past, but it ended up being so much worse than I expected. In my mind, the worst outcome was some lazy douche who never cleaned up after himself. So you can imagine my shock when I knock on the door and a full grown 30 something year old man answers the door.

"Hey, buddy. The names Mike, come on in."

He looked and sounded like a jock in a college movie, but when the actor is actually 30. His voice was deep and buttery, it almost gave me butterflies. I just smiled awkwardly and walked past him through the door.

"I'm Oscar by the way." I introduced myself.

"Cool, I'll just call you Handlebars." He said, without a care in the world.

He sat down on his bed, and that was the extent of our interactions for the day.

Day 7:

It's been a week and all my other worries about roommates came true. Not only is he 15 years older than me, he's a slob. He gets home from the gym drenched in sweat and throws his gym clothes wherever without cleaning them. He doesn't do his dishes, or any chore for that matter. In fact it seems like he intentionally keeps the place dirty after I try to clean it. And whatever musky cologne he wears attacks my nose every time I open the door, it feels like the smell seeps into everything, including my clothes.

The few times that he actually wants a chore to be done, he just asks me to do it, or rather he just tells me to do it. Normally I would be happy to tell him to go fuck himself, but I always find myself doing whatever he asks. I hate it.

"Yo Handlebars, be a doll and clean the dishes for me."

"Yo Handlebars, I ran out of clean gym clothes, mind running em down to the laundry for me."

It's like he's casting a spell whenever he talks.

Day 15:

I've started to settle into routine. The things that used to bother me about Mike seem a bit more trivial now. We've even started to become pretty close. I get enthralled by his conversations about business. He goes on and on about his father's enterprises, and how they'll be his soon.

I even started going to the gym with him lately. He lent me some of his gym clothes, even if they're way too big. It just made me appreciate him more. I never really clocked how jacked he was, sometimes he goes to the gym shirtless and it shows off his massive pecs and thick biceps.

Since joining him, I've noticed my body has improved quite significantly. I used to be skinny and lanky, but there is definition starting to show throughout my body.

Day 30:

Just a month into school and I was already on my way to failing out. I just don't care about it anymore, but Mike gave me a solution. He said I could just switch programs and do business with him, and his dad would even pay for it. How could I pass that up.

Now that I've switched, it's like all stress in my life has disappeared. Business is so easy, and now I have more time with Mike. We usually have a routine of going to the gym after our last class of the day.

"Yo Handlebars, you're lookin strong man. I'd kill to grow as fast as you."

He shouted at me from across the gym, when he caught me staring at myself in the mirror. Butterflies flew through my stomach when he said that. And he wasn't wrong, I've been noticing a lot of changes in my body. My face has matured, my eyebrows are thicker, my nose is bigger, and my jawline is more square. I even have to shave now, when I never had to before college. A five o'clock shadow engulfs my face by the end of the day, especially above my lip. The rest of my body has gotten hairier too, especially around my pecs, arms, and legs. And that's not even mentioning my progress at the gym. I actually look like I belong there, my biceps have a nice roundness to them and my chest actually sticks out from my body. Those gym clothes that Mike gave me look smaller and smaller every day.

Life in the dorms has also been a dream. I've been wearing that cologne that Mike loves, and it's like I unlocked a whole new level of confidence. People seem to love listening to me talk, and people seem to respect me more.

Day 60:

This past month has been the best month of my life. Now that I'm in my mid twenties, I can drink whenever I want. Mike and I go out raves and frat parties basically every night, my body is basically used to every drug at this point. And with Mike's dad paying for college, I literally don't need to show up to lectures and I get straight A's.

"Fuck, bro. I think you're bigger than me Handlebars."

Mike said with a shocked face when we were snapping pics at the gym. We flexed beside each other, and it was obvious. My biceps dwarfed his, and his gym clothes had become really tight on me lately. The shirt was skin tight against my upper body, showing off my juicy pecs and my growing six pack. And the shorts looked like they were about to burst under the pressure of my ass cheeks and thighs, to the point that the outline of my dick was constantly visible.

"Here bro, take this."

Mike handed me a package. It was filled with gym clothes and jocks.

"Just for you Handlebars."

I yanked him in for a bro hug, I could feel myself blushing.

"You got this all for me bro?"

"Fuck yeah, man. You've been grinding it out in the gym, don't think I haven't noticed my clothes straining against those muscles. And you need something to contain that snake in your pants before we get campus security called on us."

Mike chuckled, his laugh was infectious.

Day 100:

I started in the mirror. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. The confident and cocky mask goes away when I'm alone, just leaving the caring gym bro that's on the true inside.

Damn, I think to myself, Mike is making me too sappy. I give myself a cocky smile after shaving my face, leaving me with a thick moustache. I flex, admiring my guns and bouncing my pecs. Man I look good for a man pushing his thirties.

"Fuck, handlebars. Since when were you so hairy?" Mike asked me when I left the bathroom.

"What? Are you jealous I'm manlier than you bro?" I taunted him by opening my button up wider, revealing the thick pelt of hair that covered my body.

"Nah, it's got me feelin something tho." He smirked at me.

"Hah, I fuckin knew it. You want a piece of this." I bounced my pecs.

"Don't make it gay bro, it's not like that. Just a dude admiring another dude." He blushed.

The tension between us had been building for weeks. He would stand too close when spotting me at the gym, and I'd catch him staring at me in the mirror. Not like I haven't been doin it too. We also wear less clothes around the dorm. I still got that jock strap Mike gave me a while back, I'd be lying to myself if I said it fit but I don't care, and it seems like Mike doesn't mind either. And sometimes I wear an open button up just cuz it makes my pecs pop.

Day 120:

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." Mike whispered in my ear. His breath was heavy as he threw me against the wall. His dick was bouncing with excitement against my ass.

For context, a few hours ago we were at the gym like normal. At this point, we didn't even go to class, it was just gym and parties now. The tension had been growing at the gym forever, sometimes we'd release by foolin around in the showers, but it never went further a quick handjob when no one was lookin. It was different this time, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Broad daylight in a busy gym, his hands would be far down my shorts, teasing.

At first I was dismissive. We already got caught multiple times by campus security, so close to getting kicked out of school. If it wasn't for Mike's dad being a rich alumni, I think both of us would be long gone by now. But he knew how to push my buttons, he always has. I gave in, but had the decency to drag him by the collar to the showers. At least there we could be naked.

Ok, back to the point. I grunted as his thick arms held me in place. Mike had been working extra hard to catch up to me, and it was showin. It turned me on, feelin his muscled forearms against my shoulders. But I wasn't gonna let him win that easily. What Mike seemed to forget was the near decade I spent in the Navy before comin to college.

I whipped around, using the hot water against our skin to slip out from his pin. I pushed his shoulder, sending him tripping over my foot, which I had conveniently placed behind his. I caught him like a damsel in distress, so there was no doubt in his mind who was on top.

Within seconds, it's like my training kicked in and I had him pinned down on his stomach. The bristles of my thick mustache rubbed against the back of his ear as I whispered, "You really thought you could top me?" I asked with a chuckle.

He moaned like a twink when I stuck my cock up his ass. It took a moment for his ass to adjust to takin a beatin rather than dishin one out, but he'll get used to it. The wet fur on my forearm slid across his back as I rode him like a bull. I could almost feel his organs rearrangin to fit my 10 inch rod.

I groaned as I felt months of sexual tension release in seconds, shooting my seed all through Mike's body. He was mine. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed the ride too. A trail of his cum ran from under his pinned body, to the drain in the middle of the showers.

"You're mine."

I whispered in his ear with a shit eatin grin.

"Now clean this mess up before you dare come back to my dorm."

I pushed off his back to get to my feet. I continued rubbing my cock as I walked away, making ropes of cum cover the showers. I walked right out of the showers and into the locker room, making sure to wink at campus security on the way out. Someone always calls them, and we always get away with it Scott free, so I think they gave up. It just feels good to make people know they're beneath you, and to do it while rubbin one out.

I cleaned up and walked alone to my dorm, sat on my couch, and waited for Mike to come back. After a few minutes, he walked in without a word. He walked over to me and laid in my lap as I turned on football. I smelled his hair, making sure he actually cleaned up like I ordered.

"Good boy." I reassured him while massaging his pecs.

Day 150:

I finally moved our stuff out of my shitty dorm. Mikey's father just decided to pay for our diplomas outright, instead of trying to turn all of our F's into A's.

We moved to L.A. and I fuckin love it here. I just walk around in nothin but a jock, and people love me for it. And there are so many entrepreneurs like me, so much money to be made.

Everyone just calls me handlebars, I can't remember the last time anyone called me my name. Now that I think about it, I don't even remember what it was, but who the fuck cares. I'm handlebars, the life of the party and the best fuck in this city.

The Chrisening

“So the time is- Woah!”

David didn’t expect the oil to kick in so suddenly as he watched his torso bloat out into a mighty fine example of raw power and musculature from his well built biceps and a chest that made it almost impossible to look down at his rock hard abs. It was hard to tell but from the looks of things, his body was only just getting started and he smiled towards the camera that was recording it all. He bounced his pecs for the camera as he continued grinning from ear to ear.

“Looks like that Chris oil I was talking about kicked in,” said David, grunting as he began to feel his own hands catching up to the process, a great heat within his body that spread from his muscled torso all the way to his hands. The both of them starting to enlarge and accomodate the muscular body that he was fast developing, waves of pleasure beginning to emanate from the pit of his stomach, the same stomach that possessed his clear cut abs. “As I was saying, in Lyonesse there seems-” The sounds of rips and tears interrupted David as he could start to see that his legs were becoming far too long and wide for his own jeans. “Seems to be a lot of sources for transformation a lot of- Oh god…Products!”

A large rip suddenly sounded from David’s ass as he lurched forward, the rip only growing more as his thighs began to force themselves out of the jeans and his ass continued to swell. The waves of pleasure that once emanated from his stomach now began pulsing throughout his body from his ass, as if he was being pounded again and again as his hole began growing slightly.

“Oh that’s un-unexpected! Anyway-” Another rip came from the front, the buttons to his jeans all popped at once as his cock began to bulge out of both his pants and his underwear (which was already being stretched to its limits from his ass). “God, that feels so good! But- but the point is transformation doesn't just have to be- have to be about yourself it- Oh fuck!” His cock throbbed. “It could also transform environment as I-”

Another groan, another throb of his cock and another rip as his jeans gave way and allowed the muscle of his upper thighs to spill out into the open air. He had barely realised at this point that he was correct in his hypothesis, the room around him began to change, the plain walls becoming covered in stripes that arranged themselves into odd patterns.

David tried his best to stop himself from cumming but knew that it was practically going to happen, from his research for this documentary about transformation it happened all the time, even when it was risky at making the transformation perhaps a bit too pertinent.

“As I transform and get…bigger-” David couldn’t believe it but he was getting bigger, even his torso too which was almost pulled up as his back stretched and he could hear the bones click, his body becoming less tense all around. He sighed in open relief at the feeling of release for his muscles, once feeling so heavy and almost unnatural, now felt like a real part of his body as his legs elongated too. His hands were now in perfect size to his brawny arms and his feet were next, the toes extending forward like the red stripes that developed on the floor underneath. His soles widened slightly as David was greeted with the sight of size thirteen feet. “The room seems to get bigger too, I think, I feel like I’m almost done- Dick can’t stop…growing!”

David’s hand wanted to wrap around his expanding length but he resisted, almost ready to grab it if it tried, as he kept his mouth shut, stifling his moans as much as he could and trying to hide his arousal from the camera. But by now it was far too late and as the blonde hair replaced David’s brown, as beautiful larger eyes adorned David’s visage and the features continued shifting and aligning with that of Chris Hemsworth, David stopped stifling and let his body almost go limp as he reached such a state of edging that almost took his breath away before he finally released, allowing cum to stain the new white and red floor.

David, or rather Chris, did everything he could not to collapse as he caught his breath from the orgasm as he looked around the room. His pants were thankfully back on, instead of the loose blue he was once wearing, they were now a tight black that kept his ass and crotch in line.

He was coughing and grunting as David felt his own throat.

“Well I- Oh…Oh I wasn’t expecting that,” David laughed to himself at the sound of his suddenly Australian accent and deep voice. He only stopped when he saw the camera was there and coughed to himself. “Right well, this is David, I am now in the body of Chris Hemsworth and it seemed the Chris oil worked. As you can see around me, it looks like the room also transformed into maybe a movie studio or something? But this is just one example of-”

David felt some stirring and coughed again, it was as if his own voice suddenly faltered back to something else.

“It’s just an example of the effects transformation can have around you…” David cut himself short as he started stepping towards the camera, muttering to himself “Better edit that last part out.”

However just as David went to grab the camera, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, grabbing at it before he heard his stomach churn just before he felt his cock erect once again as if he didn’t just cum twice his usual loud moments ago.

“Wait what’s…That’s not meant to happen!” David suddenly looked around at the room to see that it seemed to start appearing so much smaller when, but he knew the size wasn’t changing, walls were beginning to construct around him. He gulped, trying to reach for the camera but unable to as he felt his fingers shrink ever so slightly, all while his arms still stayed the same, if anything they appeared broader just not as muscular.

He quickly let his changing hands reach down and undo his jeans, witnessing his legs as something similar occured to his own thighs, still the same and if anything only wider due to some small sliver of fat that hanged on. His heart skipped a beat, noticing that the same pleasurable heat continued to spread throughout his body all while he managed to barely take his underwear off in time before his cock flopped out. At the very least he knew it had no correlation to the actual size of the celebrity because by now his cock was almost inhumanly long at ten inches, continuing to grow and lengthen out the more he denied himself the sweet pleasure of release.

It was just then at David’s confusion and a thirst for answers (mingled in with a thirst for pleasure), a mirror materialised in front of him floating for just a moment before David blinked and could see the wall practically constructing around him, to see the shifting facial features in front of him. They were already too different to be Chris Hemsworth, the hair was darker and the eyes just closer together and even larger but David could recognise it.

“No! I’m meant to turn into just one Chris…The oil said…Not more! Oh fuck!” David’s panic left him lacking control of his hands, one of them starting to masturbate his ten inch cock and the other going back to his ass, the finger teasing his hole before starting to slowly sink in. First one finger and then another and then another, before David knew it, he was a moaning mess, leaning over the counter and sink that appeared before him and fingering his ass whilst practically fucking his hand as he saw his body grow brawnier and broader.

The definition of muscle was somewhat lost but that didn’t stop David from admiring his still sexy form as he felt the new jawline settle in, the blonde hair and beard lost forever as he became more clean shaven and just as his fingers began to ram into his prostate, David moaned and his larger cock came once again. He looked at the cum that splattered his mirror and the image of Chris Pratt that stared back.

“God, okay, okay let’s uhh let’s think…” David realised he was in some sort of bathroom, quickly getting a towel to wipe away the cum and finding something to put on just as he realised the camera was there. However, whilst he should’ve been embarrassed (even if he was going to edit it out), a cocky smirk came across David’s face instead. “Well just uhh change of plans, the oil had some other uhh…other…effects.” David’s mind felt foggy, it was like words were draining out of him as he could barely remember what to say.

He resisted the urge to flex in the mirror.

“But like I said this all has an effect on the room too, and-” David couldn’t even concentrate on how hard it was to come by words when he felt his cock get erect again, throbbing as if he hadn’t masturbated in weeks as both hands went to grab the kitchen counter. “God damn it…No please, not again! Can’t take it!”

David moaned even as his hand came down to his length regardless and began to masturbate away

“Maybe if I just come, maybe just get it…get it over with. Oh fuck that feels so good!” Like a balloon, his biceps instantly grew, suddenly full of more muscle and making him far more broad shouldered than he already was. It was just at that moment as he continued quickly masturbating that he began to feel tense, that same heavy feeling of unnatural muscle bludgeoning him as his arms started being unable to barely move. “No! No please…let me come…wanna come so bad…”

He almost whimpered, moaning as the environment around David changed, the image of Chris Pratt falling into an oddly familiar pod was the last thing he saw before the mirror itself disappeared with the walls to create a larger empty room. David could barely place what was left of his memory on it, but he knew that this room, this setup was something similar but he just couldn’t understand.

His length dribbled with pre-cum, the head so frustratingly sensitive and glistening, begging him to just touch it, just one stroke to set him off all while his pants didn’t give way but just change to seem browner and more baggy. David tried to think…tried to think…but all he wanted to do was see himself and he tried to pull himself up, tried to catch at least a glimpse of the sweaty set of deep and large abs that were now on his giant torso.

He continued sweating, it was if his muscle bound body wouldn’t let him cum then it would also make it as strenuous as possible for him. It was just his visage that needed to change, the jawline stayed as sharp as ever but the blondeness returned to his hair as David closed his eyes, he couldn’t even see his features if he tried. There was nothing around him to help, just this odd pod that sustained his musculature and it was at that moment he realised.

If the oil could change him into any Chris, perhaps it could have changed them to any version of themselves, even the characters they played.

But this thought disappeared as fast as it came, his eleven inch cock twitched as a tight pair of boxer briefs appeared underneath, rubbing against the head. That was all the stimulation it needed to let loose waves of cum once again, giving release to a great orgasm and special kind of pleasure that not even David could ever resist, as his mind wiped away and left Chris…just Chris, still in that pod, in that familiar movie set and with that great body.

The last parts of David hoped the camera caught everything.

If you want to read more stories like this, then check them out here!

Derek felt strange, his body warm and his muscles were tense. He rubs one hand along his aching biceps. Startled when he felt the muscles bulging, thick veins starting to pulsate against his pale skin.

That was all the reaction he could do before he found himself sinking into a trance. He stood there, unblinking. A soft groan escaping his lips when his body rippled with new growth. His already impressive physique only became more defined. His clothing feeling more snug around his thicker more broader body type.

His legs started to stretch, forcing Derek to grow a couple of inches in height. His face rippled, his handsome face becoming more rugged. His stubble grew thicker, his features more defined and sharper while he aged several years. Giving him a very distinctive and older look.

Derek shook his head, his hazel eyes darkening as they turned brown. The young man woke from his entranced spell. He rubs his aching head till it sunsides, He wonders what the hell that was. He adjusted the leather jacket that had appeared around him.

XY

This story is a part of Occam's writing prompt challenge. I highly recommend y'all check out #occam2000 to read the other amazing entries by the other talented writers!!

LATEST REPORT ON RECENTLY DISCOVERED METAMORPHOSIS GENE 

Few things in this world are as beautifully intricate as human reproduction. However, it is not a perfect system. Any number of things could go wrong during the conception and/or birth of a human being, one of which includes genetic mutations. The chances of gene mutation are never zero. While modern-day doctors and scientists continue to fight the good fight of keeping harmful genetic disorders at bay, there is one particularly potent mutation a tiny percentage of the human population carries.

How long this mutation has existed within our gene pool is currently unknown. What is known is that although this malignant gene usually remains dormant within the human body, it can potentially rearrange an individual’s genetic composition and expression when active. Unfortunately, this information was only recently discovered after it had already wreaked havoc in [redacted]. The mutation has been dubbed the Metamorphosis (MM) gene. The MM gene is linked to the Y chromosome in humans. Fortunately, a male’s X chromosome usually functions as a suppressor, thereby keeping the malignant gene dormant in afflicted individuals. However, it is still possible for the MM gene to rekindle if certain conditions are met.

First, an afflicted male must lack the appropriate allele(s) for their X chromosome to properly function as a suppressor against the MM gene. Second, the individual’s body must be in a state of heightened activity due to intense physical exertion. Lastly, on a neurological level, the individual must experience high levels of dopamine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (or, in simpler terms— love). Should all these conditions be met, the door opens for the MM gene to potentially awaken within the subject. 

As you may have already surmised, statistical probability works in our favor against the MM gene. Unfortunately, however, there remains a chance, regardless of how slight, that the proper conditions will align for this chaotic mutation to awaken and wreak havoc on both the carrier male as well as any surrounding, non-carrier parties. This was the case with one individual in the town of [redacted]. 

Numerous questions about how the MM gene operates and spreads among non-carriers despite being classified as a genetic disorder inundate microbiologists with, unfortunately, little to no answers at the time of this report. Further research into the matter remains a high priority. 

END REPORT 

***

It was supposed to be an ordinary day like any other when Geovanni R. Diaz stepped into the gym that afternoon. He drank his pre-workout in the front lobby while waiting for his friend/gym partner Evan Washington to arrive. The two men had met at the beginning of summer when they both started hitting the gym on the same day. They bonded over making fools of themselves as they misused several exercise machines. They became close friends and regular gym buddies since then. 

Some 20 minutes had passed, and Evan was still nowhere in sight. Geo finished the last few sips of his pre-workout and decided to start without him. It was common for Evan to flake out, especially as of late. While Geo initially shared Evan's casual approach to the gym, he eventually decided he wasn’t satisfied with doing the bare minimum. He took on an intense 60-day workout regime to really challenge himself. Evan supported his friend’s endeavor, but the differences in their goals eventually showed themselves when Evan regularly skipped days while Geo kept at it. He didn’t take it personally; he had grown used to it, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having someone to joke around with between sets. Regardless, Geo claimed a chest fly machine, powered up his headphones, and then proceeded to get to work. 

“Hey papi, mind if I work in with you?” 

Geo heard a familiar voice behind him as he finished his warm-up set. He smiled as he turned and saw Evan leaning against the machine. 

“Hey, handsome, I thought you weren’t coming today.” Geo stood up and embraced his close friend. 

“Wasn’t planning on it if I’m being totally honest, but then I decided maybe I’ve been skipping too many days and forced myself out of bed to come here. Did you just start?”

“Yeah man! It’s chest and shoulder day today so I figured I’d start with my favorite machine,” Geo looked at Evan with a grin. “Care to join me?” 

Evan only laughed in response. They both already knew the answer, but they enjoyed asking anyway as a joke. With that, they proceeded to go through Geo’s workout plan together. Naturally, Evan couldn’t keep up with Geo anymore and had to lower the weight after every set, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying their time together. By the end of the workout, they were both tired and sweaty in the locker room after hitting the weights hard.

“I have no idea how you manage to stay on track with this whole fitness challenge thing…” Evan huffed as he caught his breath. “I’d probably give up after the first day. You look good though! Your hard work is paying off and it really shows!”

“You think so?” Geo said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “It’s hard to tell sometimes. I look in the mirror and I feel good, but then I stare at myself too long and I start worrying if I’m just lying to myself.”

“That’s just body dysmorphia talking, you look great!”

“Aw thank you Evan, you’re too kind.”

“Of course! Anytime you need reassurance, I’ll always be here.” 

Evan flashed Geo a broad smile, and he smiled back. A few minutes passed before Evan started talking again. 

“Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking of making my world famous lasagna tonight, and I'd love to have you over for dinner.”

Geo stopped drying himself after he heard Evan say that. He turned slowly to Evan and saw him with a shy smile. The same smile formed on his face as he began to answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you, Evan. Of course I’ll come over tonight.”

Evan practically exploded with excitement. He ran to Geo for a hug, almost knocking him over due to the impact. Geo wrapped his arms around Evan and held him in a tight embrace. Their hugs always put Geo in a good mood. He was more than overjoyed to discover that Evan shared his feelings. He knew this hug would quickly become one of his top favorite memories. It was a tender moment between two men falling in love, which made it all the more noticeable when loud indigestion ended their sweet moment abruptly. Geo pulled away and held his stomach as he kneeled over in pain.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Evan asked. 

“Ugh… I’m fine. I think I just need a bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Geo ran off while Evan stayed behind in the locker room. Evan finished packing up their things while he waited. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Growing worried, Evan walked to the bathroom stalls to check on his beloved friend. He heard heavy, labored breathing coming from the only closed stall. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” 

Evan knocked on the stall door and found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open slightly. His jaw dropped to the floor when he found Geo naked and drenched in sweat on the tile floor. His eyes were clenched closed, and his face was distorted due to unbearable abdominal pain. Evan ran to his side. 

“What’s going on!? What’s wrong?” Evan asked with apparent urgency in his voice. Geo could barely get words out as he was too busy hyperventilating. 

“So… Hot…”

Evan held a hand against Geo’s forehead and almost immediately recoiled from how hot it was. Geo was running an extremely high fever, unlike anything he had ever seen! Evan’s eyes darted around the bathroom as he desperately sought solutions but couldn’t think of anything due to his panic. He was desperate. He knew he needed to act fast before—

“Ohhhh it hurts!!”

Geo’s sudden shriek stopped Evan’s negative line of thinking. At that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Evan’s gaze shot back to Geo. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what was happening to his soon-to-be boyfriend. Unbeknownst to both of them, Geo was a carrier for the Metamorphosis gene, and all the right conditions were met for it to awaken. The gene was hard at work rearranging Geo’s DNA, and he began transforming right before their very eyes! 

It began with his body hair. Like the other men from the paternal side of his family, Geo had never been able to grow much body hair, if any. However, he did have the genes needed for ample body hair, and thanks to the MM gene, it was finally able to express itself. Thick, black hair began sprouting out of his legs in spurts. With each hair follicle that grew in, Geo’s legs grew just a little bit thicker than before, causing Geo to moan obscenely loud as a result. The accelerated hair growth traveled up his legs and into his crotch area where his pubic hair grew in at an alarming rate until he had a jungle of bushy pubes covering his groin. His hairy balls hung lower than before after growing in size and his cock grew an inch thicker in width. Within a few minutes his entire lower half was transformed. His legs became as strong as tree trunks, and with a new, well-endowed package to boot— all covered in a thick layer of hair too! 

The transformation wave continued to ripple throughout the rest of his body. Geo twisted and writhed on the floor as the rest of his body underwent rapid changes. A prominent happy trail formed on his lower abdomen, connecting his belly button and pubic region with a line of long, messy hair. His pecs grew more plump as hair ran up his ab line and onto the center of his chest where it spiraled outward until it formed little rings of hair around his nipples. His chest and abdominal areas were only covered with a slight dusting of body hair compared to his legs. The stubble on his face grew until a thick, connected beard replaced the short goatee Geo once sported. 

His armpits were hit the hardest by the transformation. His pit hair grew and grew until it curled from its long length, leaving Geo with obscenely hairy underarms. Combined with the heavy sweat of an intense workout, Geo’s hairy pit smell began to fill the room. Evan recoiled from how unexpectedly strong Geo’s musky body odor had become, though he couldn’t resist helping himself to a couple of sniffs after he got a whiff of his powerful musk. 

The MM gene had thoroughly scrambled Geo’s DNA sequences, leaving him as a completely unrecognizable, alternate version of himself! 

“WHEW!! God I feel sooo much better now… Hey what’s wrong, babe? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“G… Geo? Is that you?” Evan stood in shock from disbelief. If he hadn’t witnessed it for himself, Evan would’ve never believed that the hairy, smelly jock lying in front of him, staring at him with a lustful smirk, was the same man he had just invited over for dinner. 

“Of course it is, mi hermosito, who else would I be?” Geo winked as he threw his arms up, leaving his hairy underarms exposed. “By the way, I saw you sniffing the air earlier… How about you come and have a whiff right from the source?” 

Evan chuckled nervously, but Geo wasn’t joking. His laughter died down as he realized just how dead-serious Geo was.

“No… You’re not seriously—” 

“Oh but I am,” Geo interrupted. “Just a little taste won’t hurt anyone. Call it a preview for what’s to come later tonight.”

“But right here? In the public bathrooms?”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone else is around right now. We’ll just have to keep our voices down if someone comes in. So, what do you say? I know you want to…”

Geo got up from the ground and approached Evan. He stood close enough that his scent naturally filled Evan’s nose without him needing to sniff. Evan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his friend’s intoxicating musk left him in a state of deep arousal. Of course, Evan had some reservations about hooking up with Geo after he had just randomly transformed right in front of him, but between how close Geo’s pits already were to his face and the fact that it still seemed to be the same man he had come to know and love on the inside, Evan couldn’t bring himself to reject the offer. Before he could think about it properly, he was already leaning in without even realizing it. 

Once Evan started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face deep into Geo’s sweaty, rank underarms. Geo’s coarse black hair tickled Evan’s nostrils as he nuzzled against the crevices of his pits. Muffled groans filled with pleasure escaped Evan’s mouth as he indulged in the manly, sweaty scent, each sniff leaving him more satisfied than the last. Soon enough, both Geo and Evan grew rock hard from all the sensual physical touch. The tents in their gym shorts poked and rubbed against each other as they continued pressing their bodies together. For Geo, the thought of getting worshiped in a public place like a gym bathroom was the hottest thing ever while Evan was just happy he got to service a hairy, sweaty gym rat. 

Evan briefly lifted his head out of Geo’s armpit for air. At that moment, Geo held his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Their tongues wrestled inside of Evan’s mouth as they locked lips. Once they had their fill of making out after a while, Geo began pushing Evan down onto his knees, to which Evan happily obliged. Geo’s cock stood at full mast, nearly poking one of Evan’s eyes out as he got into position. Evan was in awe as he held the heavy piece of uncut brown meat in his hands. He was drooling just from the sight of it! Not able to restrain himself anymore, Evan dove right in and guided the leaking tip into his mouth.

Arghh… Mmmmm…

Geo let out guttural moans as his friend went down on him. The sound of a man’s deep moans encouraged Evan to service him as best as he physically could. It was almost like he forgot he needed to breathe as he slurped Geo’s entire length up and down with his tongue until it hit the back of his throat. Geo squirmed and grunted obscenely loud as Evan wrapped his cock with his warm, moist mouth. He only lasted a few minutes until he couldn’t hold in his load anymore. Geo held Evan’s head down, his nose pressing against his unruly bush, and let out a loud groan from deep within his lungs as his load came rushing out. Evan whimpered with pleasure as he swallowed Geo’s heavy load, the salty taste of cum filling up his mouth. Once it was done, they both pulled away with a satisfied ahhh!

“Alright, get up. Your turn.”

Geo helped Evan up to his feet, then got down on his knees himself. Evan didn’t deny Geo’s advances, but he also didn’t help him get into position either. He had a blank expression as Geo proceeded to go down on him. Even as he swirled and sucked on his sensitive head, Evan didn’t react or say anything aside from an occasional soft moan. All he could focus on was a prominent cut on the inside of his cheek that he could feel with his tongue. Was that always there? Evan wasn’t sure, but regardless, it was already too late. The damage was done. He had contracted the MM gene from Geo. 

Evan winced as he began to notice a pain growing in the pit of his stomach. It started as a slight ache, but it quickly became unbearable. Evan hunched over, letting a low groan as he held his hands against his side where it hurt the most. It felt like he was being stabbed from the inside out! The next thing he knew, his muscles rapidly stretched and constricted as the gene started rearranging his DNA. 

Because Evan was a non-carrier and his immune system was not already accustomed to suppressing the malignant virus, the MM gene was able to activate without delay and transformed him much faster than Geo. He threw his head back and quietly moaned as the transformation happened. Geo was too busy giving him head to even notice. He just thought he was doing a good job. 

The MM gene was hard at work bringing out Evan’s hidden genetic traits. Although he was only 12.5% Black from his mother’s side, that was more than enough for the virus to play around with. Various points around his skinny body began to inflate with muscle mass. His thin frame and scrawny chicken legs filled in with much-needed mass, giving him sturdy legs with sharp ab lines and impressive cannons for arms. His biceps swelled to the size of melons as his body flexed under the tension of rapid transformation. Evan himself was surprised with how heavy his new body was becoming.

His facial structure shifted and morphed. His nose widened while his jawline became stronger and sharper. A bushy goatee beard grew in where he once could only grow peach fuzz. The once wholly flat-chested Evan Washington now sported two massive slabs of meat resting on his torso. His pecs were firm, strong, and hung low from their own weight. Coupled with bright pink nips, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he now possessed a perfect chest. Although his pale skin tone stayed the same, the MM gene brought his Black features out to the forefront, giving the once undeniably White young man a more visibly biracial appearance by the end of his transformation.

While Evan underwent a total identity change, Geo kept blowing him all the while. Although he did notice a sudden change in Evan’s girth and overall size, the taste of a nice, sweaty cock kept him focused on the task at hand. Geo simply took a breath through his nose and opened his mouth up even wider to keep deepthroating him. Evan’s body was still sensitive from having undergone rapid growth, which only made the pleasure of having his dick sucked sloppily increase tenfold. The veins in his thighs and cock twitched and throbbed as he climaxed and pumped out his thick load straight down Geo’s throat. Geo swallowed, sighed with deep satisfaction, and got up from the ground. 

“Mmm! You know, yours tastes kinda tangy!” Geo gathered and licked up the few stray drops dripping from Evan’s tip. 

Meanwhile, Evan was trembling, struggling to breathe after all the physical stimulation. Only after Geo finished cleaning up the spunky mess did he realize that the Evan standing before him no longer looked like the Evan he once knew.  

“What the— Who are you!! Where’d Evan go?” Geo yelled. Evan turned to look at him, and Geo saw his pupils dilating unnaturally rapidly. “Dude, what’s wrong with your eyes!?”

Evan said nothing in response. The MM gene fried his mind with a heavy concentration of hormones, leaving him in a state of severe brain fog. Evan stumbled forward to the nearby mirror. His cock was still semi-erect. The sight of his own dick was enough to make Evan drool as he admired and flexed his arm muscles. Geo tried calling his attention but to no avail. Evan was unresponsive to his shouts. He had one thing and one thing only on his horny mind. 

“More…” Evan muttered.

“More what?” Geo replied. Evan snapped his line of sight back at Geo. His dazed eyes wandered to Geo’s exposed junk, then narrowed as they met his eyes. He let out a low growl as his eyes suddenly had an intense look that caused Geo to take a few steps back. It was the same look a hungry lion gave a gazelle out in the wild. Geo swallowed his breath. He became acutely aware of the situation he was in.

“Dick! I want more dick!!”

Evan puckered his lips and lunged towards Geo, though Geo managed to sidestep him in time.

“Get away from me! Look man, you might be hot as hell but I’m not interested! I’m a taken man!!” 

Geo quickly gathered his discarded clothes and hightailed it out of the bathroom. Naturally, being in the hyper state that he was, Evan wasn’t going to give up until he got what he craved. He stumbled out of the bathroom stall ass naked, where he was about to run into the perfect target.  

“Man! Today is just not my day,” a bodybuilder mumbled as he walked into the locker room. Dylan was a muscle gay, and he came to the gym solely to go cruising that day. 

However, despite his efforts, he struck out. He was getting sexually frustrated, which made him incredibly willing to hook up with some random stranger in the bathroom. 

Dylan was as equally surprised as he was impressed when Evan stepped out of the stall with his cock out. The smell of sweat and cum hit his nose, arousing him. Dylan loved what he saw and decided to make his move on the muscle-bound hunk.

“Hey there, stud! Need a hand there?” Dylan whistled at Evan, catching his attention.

Evan turned to him. He was still visibly sweaty and was breathing heavily. Dylan wasn’t sure what to make of him, but Evan didn’t give him a chance to reconsider. 

Evan charged at him, planting his lips against his upon impact. Dylan was caught off guard but had no problem matching Evan’s energy. He kissed him back as their frisky hands began feeling up each other’s bodies. Although Dylan loved making out, Evan’s kissing style was quickly turning out to be way too rough for his tastes. Evan forced his tongue in, had an obscene amount of saliva, and even bit down on his bottom lip with enough force to draw blood.

“OWW! What the fuck man!?”

Dylan pushed Evan away and held his bleeding lip. He was glad that there wasn't a lot of blood, but was still rightfully pissed off. As ravenous as he was due to the MM gene, Evan was oblivious to what he had done. Instead, his attention shifted to another guy wearing only a towel near the showers. He ran off in that direction and left Dylan in the dust. 

“Prick…” 

With that, Dylan decided to just give up and get a quick workout in. He took out a rice bar and ate it as he returned to the main area. He did his stretches, picked up a couple of barbells, and claimed an open bench. But just as he was about to start his first set, a powerful hunger overcame him. He grabbed at his stomach and kneeled over in pain as the MM gene took effect.

All of Dylan’s hard-earned muscles melted away within a matter of minutes. He rapidly gained pounds upon pounds of body fat. What were once washboard abs complimented by chiseled biceps were replaced by flabby arms and a protruding, hairy gut. His pecs lost their firmness and began to sag as they became nothing but a pair of man boobs. All the while, the same overwhelming lust Evan had began growing within Dylan too.

A handful of nearby good samaritans came to Dylan’s aid after he collapsed. While they all tried to help Dylan, most stayed back after witnessing his sudden transformation firsthand. Nobody knew what was happening behind the scenes, leading to anxious rumors and worried whispers floating around the gym. While most people were too cautious to get near Dylan, one brave man decided to step forward and help Dylan. Unfortunately, as he tried to help Dylan get up to his feet, Dylan accidentally scratched him on the back. The young man recoiled and dropped Dylan to the ground as a result.

As other people began to help Dylan, the injured man stepped off to the side to tend to his wound. He felt unusually warm as he finished putting on a bandage. He didn’t think much of it and ignored it but soon found himself sweating bullets as he rejoined the group. It got to the point that he needed to take a seat to try to cool off, but it was no use. He soon joined Dylan on the floor, writhing in pain due to contracting the MM gene.

At this point, everyone in the gym had gathered around the two men. The crowd stood back as they bore witness to yet another transformation. They watched in bewilderment as the short man rapidly grew in height. He groaned and gasped in anguish as his limbs stretched out. His torso grew and widened until he had the body of a tall bear. He pawed at the growing tent in his sweats as he thrashed around the floor, massaging his manhood as hormones continued pumping throughout his body. Within minutes, the infected man had gone from a stout 5’4 to a big, burly 6’4.

Although the afflicted man already had a healthy spattering of trimmed body hair, the MM gene forced his hair to grow to what was genetically possible. His body hair grew out beyond what Geo experienced. From his chest and belly to his legs and arms, every hair follicle grew longer and thicker, leaving him a pelt of curly body hair. His facial hair, in particular, grew out the most. His mustache grew longer and longer until it practically covered his mouth! His beard became bushy and unruly with coarse black hair as it reached his chest. All the while, the hair on the top of his head fell out one by one until he had a shiny bald head. He became an unrecognizable version of himself thanks to the MM gene. Once his transformation was over, he sat up and let out a bellowing belch that echoed throughout the gym. 

“Mrmph… Feels sooooo good…”

The crowd of witnesses backed away from the two transformed men. The two men turned to the crowd and smiled. A cold, ominous air filled the atmosphere. A few intuitive individuals saw the writing on the wall and left before shit hit the fan while the majority stayed behind, anxious and confused at what was going on. A few moments filled with tense silence passed, only for it to be broken when Evan came charging in from the men’s locker room and locked lips with the closest man. Almost as if on signal, Dylan and the burly bear joined Evan’s rampage and lashed out, too.

Pandemonium broke out as everyone made a mad dash for the exit. It was like a zombie attack as Evan and the other transformed men attacked every healthy man they could get their hands on. The unfortunate victims contracted the MM gene. Once infected, they, too, succumbed to genetic rearrangements. Some grew insanely muscular, and others became incredibly overweight. Hair was grown and lost; skin colors changed, and every physical feature rearranged until they were completely unrecognizable. All those transformed men wanted nothing more than to kiss, fuck, and spread their seed to as many people as possible until their hyped-up urges were satiated. 

“Shit’s getting crazy out here…” Geo whispered to himself. He poked his head out of the locker room and saw the chaos he unwittingly caused. He wanted nothing to do with the madness and ran out of the gym as fast as he could, though the infected men paid him no attention as he was already one of them. Police were beginning to arrive on the scene as Geo drove away with only one thought: his dinner date with his best friend and crush, Evan. 

Though unfortunately for him, the Evan he knew and loved was long gone. It would only be a matter of time before Geo forgot all about Evan, and his body gradually returned to its original state after the MM gene returned to a state of dormacy.

At least, until the next time Geo or some other carrier falls in love.

***

PUBLIC STATEMENT ISSUED BY THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE

Good evening.

As you may have already heard, a horrific incident has occurred at one of our local gyms. Dozens of men went on a rampage. It took several hours and almost all of our manpower, but our police department has successfully arrested all of the sexually rabid men and have placed them in custody. 

Security camera footage shows that all of these men were physically transformed before attacking. After an initial investigation, medical experts suspect that a rare genetic disorder called the Metamorphosis gene is responsible. Unfortunately, while there were no casualties, some of our own brave policemen were affected by the viral outbreak and were transformed themselves.

Two big questions remain tonight: how did a genetic disorder manage to spread like a virus, and how did these men contract this previously unheard of disorder? The arrested men were questioned about the events that led to this mass riot. None have been able to provide any concrete information. None of them seem to recognize their former identities, citing amnesia and severe migraines as the cause. 

Patient 0 has yet to be found. An active investigation continues as research efforts for a potential cure to the Metamorphosis gene’s effects continue. 

END OF STATEMENT

Marichismo

Allen, a smug engineering student, finds himself seeking shelter from the storm in a museum for Latin American art. By the time it clears up it's safe to say he'll have a more than healthy appreciation for the arts.

Might've gotten away from me a tad but I think it turned out quite well! Latino Race and Cultural change, MG and language change ahead. Also a couple more people have hopped onto my Challenge since I last mentioned it! Otherwise, espero que disfrutes! -Occam

Allen was on a side of the campus he’s never quite made it a point to explore. In undergrad and in his Masters of Engineering program so far there has simply never been a need for him to venture too far from the engineering building or the architecture library. That is until his partner on a superfluous project requested he venture into the no man’s land that holds the campus’ main library, one that runs absolutely rampant with students he sees as far beneath him.

Even worse than simply venturing beyond his comfort zone, as soon as the pair have wrapped up their progress for the day, heading off on their less than merry ways, it begins to rain. As the first raindrops begin to fall, Allen scoffs at himself for being anything less than optimally prepared. Before he’s able to reflect too deeply, the snobbish student clenches his tech-filled book bag to his chest and sprints into the nearest building, apathetic to whatever space he noisily barges into.

Before his eyes can adjust to the dim light of the new space he finds himself in, Allen hears a crack of thunder as the heavens open up behind him. Sighing in relief at successfully staying dry, Allen keeps his guard up, eying the lobby of whatever building this is that he’s never deigned to step into before now. He grimaces as he finds himself in an art museum. He does not like art museums. It’s not so much that Allen sees himself as above fine art, it’s- well no it is that. Immediately, he begins scanning the lobby for a power outlet so he may continue working while he waits out the downpour.

Head shoved under a lobby bench Allen ignores a caution sign as he forces his charger in, causing an inevitable shock that forces out a less than respectful expletive in this place of introspection. He eyes the empty room around him, slightly grinning at just how barren the lobby is. Clearly he’s not the only one apathetic to this nonsense. Shaking his hand to reawaken its nerves, he hears the clicking of footsteps against the gallery floor as a small woman walks around the corner carrying a stack of books that block her view. Allen eyes a handful of escape routes to hide from the older woman before lightning strikes once more and she trips over in shock, dropping her small stack of books, “¡Dios Mio!”

Judgemental asshole Allen may be but heartless he is not. Setting down his bag with a sigh and a roll of the eyes, the student walks over to help the older woman gather herself. Barely avoiding reflexively chiding his elder as he offers her a hand, he helps her up. The attendant pushes a large pair of glasses up her nose and squints at him with a kind smile, “Ah! Gracias, gracias mijo.” She pulls herself up on Allen’s hand and he cringes back as some kind of aftershock of static goes up his arm. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to affect her. Dusting herself off, she does a double take at Allen and adjusts her glasses, “¿Qué te trae aqui hoy, mijo? (What brings you in today dear?)

Allen hesitates, blowing air as he tries to understand why this woman thinks he knows spanish. Scratching the back of his head he finally looks to see the text blazoned across the front desk, El Gustavo Ramirez Museo De Arte Latinoamericano. Putting two and two together as he is ever so proud of doing, Allen immediately apologizes for intruding. “So sorry uh, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to wander into your, uh, space.” gesturing to the woman and the building around him in a manner to distinguish it not so much as beneath him but as an other. Something that is simply a bridge too far for him to gap. “This place isn’t for me so I think I’ll go ahead and step out.” Thunder peels before he can start to gather his things, immediately reminding him why he is in here at all. 

The older woman also relents, switching to English since, despite some instinct saying otherwise, the man before her clearly speaks only english. “Ah don’t you worry yourself mijo. The museum is for all, para todos. Free with your student ID,” she tacks on with a wink. Allen smiles uncomfortably, baring teeth enough that it could be mistaken as a grimace. 

He can’t just tell this old lady that he hasn’t a thought to spare, in his mind: waste, on the collections behind her. Still he doesn’t want to make conversation indefinitely waiting for the storm to clear either. Fearful of the outlet he’s used thus far he convinces himself there must be one hiding somewhere in the exhibition hall. He’ll just pacify her with entry and go find some place in between ostentatious paintings and droll statues to insert himself and get some actual work done.

Producing his ID wordlessly, he hands it to the elderly woman and she quickly shuffles behind her desk to type his name into some registry. Handing it back with a smile she leaves her hand hanging for a shake, “Wonderful to meet you Allan! Soy Lupe Carvajal. But you can call me abuelita, mijo!” Pocketing his ID with a dismissive laugh he notices not that his name is apparently misspelled on his ID card, instead he packs his charger up and shakes Lupe’s hand. “Hah. Uhm, whatever you say Mrs. Carvajal.” Her hand is wrinkled and frail but surprisingly warm, as if his hand were receiving the full body experience of a hug in but a single shake. 

“You know Allan, I must have thought you know spanish because you look quite like my nieto, my grandson.” Allan puffs his cheeks to bite his tongue, holding a picture in his mind of what this granny’s descendants must look like and knowing there’s simply no permutation that lands at himself. She continues, “Es un joven fuerte! Haha!” She does a little bicep pose which allows Allan to understand exactly what she means without her translating. He shyly smiles looking down at his own thin arms and wondering why this lady seems to be mocking him. After doing her bit, Lupe moves to sit at the desk and pulls a book off her stack, “You just let me know if you need anything mijo, si?” Allan nods and reflexively responds, “Si ab- Mrs. Carvajal.”

Odd taste in his mouth at almost calling this random woman grandmas she asked, he shakes it off and wanders into the exhibit hall, decidedly less worried about using her museum’s resources to his own ends. It has probably been over a decade since anyone was able to drag him into an art museum. Even then was he vehemently against wasting his time visiting. He just didn’t get art, and not for not trying. It’s just, aggravating that some people can get so much from some splotches of paint and he just sees a picture on some paper. Feeling himself get riled up he turns to the exhibit hoping for some distraction, which he finds in an elaborate statue of some dog. himself. 

Allan stands beside a huichol coyote covered in beads about two feet high. Spotlighted in the dim gallery he circles it like a predator, inspecting the bright beaded beast from every angle. See this he gets. This took time, this took care. Leaning in close the warmth of the overhead light pleasantly burns the top of his head. Absorbed by the shimmering light off the beads, Allan is unaware as his hair suddenly begins to lengthen. The buzz he has always kept short for sheer manageability begins to curl over his ears, growing warm even quicker as it tints darker. Not quite black but certainly not the blonde shade he was always happy to keep despite his spending as few hours outside as possible.

Before curls can begin to crest over his forehead, his face is not spared the glare of the spotlight. Immediately as his olive eyes glaze over, absorbed into the intricate stitched patterns they begin to stain darker. The jade he has always seen in his own reflection shades darker ever so slightly. Not brown. No he doesn’t have brown eyes, they’re just hazel? His eyebrows match the suddenly darkened hair on his head as he stands staring at the beast. Not expanding to cover more of his face but growing thicker, denser. Almost as if to shade his eyes from the light. His lips thicken as a grin begins to tinge his face. Reaching up Allan feels stubble begin to prickle his chin and upper lip, as if he spent time shaving this morning. 

Allan moans contentedly as he gives in and reaches fully into the spotlight to touch the coyote. Rules and codes of propriety fall to the wayside as he reaches beyond the realm of rationality to touch the statue of the trickster. His hands burn as they tint ever so slightly darker under the glare of the spotlight. As soon as his middle finger feels the warmth of the first bead he recoils in shock. “Q- What?!” He falls onto his ass, no time to inspect his decidedly browner hands as the commotion made immediately summons Abuelita Lupe. The elderly attendant meanders as quickly as she can into the showroom, “¿Qué pasó Alan?” Alan flexes his hand in shock. Whatever just happened it can’t be his fault.  Surely he didn’t just unprompted mess with some artifact on display. “I, um? No sé?” He pauses, unsure of what he just said, nonsense he thinks. “I mean um, I’m not sure?”

Lupe goes to help him up with what little strength she can muster only for him to wave her off, sure that she would only get in the way. He finds standing takes more effort than usual as he does so with a grunt. Nervously patting him on the back, Lupe asks him if he’s alright after the spill, buzzing around him with concerned pleasantries. Alan doesn't quite hear her as he instead inspects his own body. His clothes are tighter. He stretches and pulls at them, presuming them to just be falling weird on him after the fall. But close inspection shows otherwise. Looking at his cardigan it is clearly strained by his chest and stomach. Blushing at the idea he’s put on weight, Alan crosses his arms and notices how snugly his arms fill the sleeves, how his wrists hang out further than they should, not only that but they are unmistakably darker. Not brown, but without a doubt a few shades darker than his usual porcelain tone.

Recovering from being lost in his thoughts he looks to find Lupe staring, “Oh! Lo, uh sorry. Did you uh, ask me something Senora Carvajal?” Looking down at a sharper angle than he did earlier, he sees the abuela looking at his head with a tilt. “Did you do something different with your hair mijo?” eyes narrowing with concern and suspicion he thrusts his hair into his new curls. He immediately gasps in shock before reconsidering. This is how he’s always looked right? 

Thank god his hair is naturally curly so he can just leave them as they fall without much ado. He smiles and shakes his head at Lupe and she nods happily in return. Reaching up she puts her small hand on his bicep and squeezes it, Alan can barely hear her as he is struck with just how powerful his arm seems next to her small hand as she continues, “Well I like it mijo.” With that she aways and leaves Alan be. Having the floor to himself his expression grims as he pulls out his phone to look for a picture of himself. Something is off. His mind tells him everything is normal. When he looks at his hands he sees them as they have always been right? Why would he have a buzz cut when his hair is so naturally nice? Something in his gut screams out that something unnatural is going on. His camera roll should hold proof. Going through his phone he barely holds back a gasp that would surely summon the docent back as he is immediately greeted by a folder of his own nudes.

“Que chingado…” He whispers under his breath as his face burns redder than the scarlet beads on the coyote. He didn’t take these did he? Zooming in he is once more floored to see tattoos on his body. Looking down at his arm he sharply inhales as there's a sting and suddenly his wrist matches the image on his phone. Or no. He’s had that tattoo for years?

 Aghast at himself he still feels he wouldn’t have taken these photos of himself. Vain in many ways, his appearance is not one of them. He wonders if he’s been set up or hacked or something before he reminds himself no one would be able to do so without his knowledge. He’s a pro after all. Mind going to his technical skills, his chest puffs with pride as it grows to match the one he finds in the nudes soft-core and otherwise on his phone. Alan quickly shoves it in his pocket, finding it a much tighter fit than when he retrieved it. 

Looking around nervously, he walks close to the coyote once more. Narrowing his eyes he feels new memories come to mind from his childhood. Memories of hearing story after story of the trickster, he tilts his head as the slightest whiff of something amiss hides behind them. Staring into the eyes of the beast with suspicion the image of reading Greek mythologies by himself fades away to be replaced by his mother telling him stories from her own childhood. The coyote playing tricks and la Llorona terrorizing their little town just to make sure he stays in line. Alan smiles as he shakes out of the reverie, my mom wasn't morena was she? Headache rising as seconds pass standing near the beast he wanders away, muttering to himself without awareness, “didn’t want him in the main hall anyway.”

His hair continues to thicken and curl darker as he moves deeper into the exhibition space. Scratching at his stubble lost in thought he finds it defining itself into a goatee with a matching mustache. His phone still unlocked in his pocket shifts displays his form as he continues to change unawares. He feels himself begin to sweat intensely as his cardigan grows even tighter. His body decides to ramp up his masculinity as he starts to outright swell with muscle. His whole body twitches larger as he briefly recalls Lupe playfully flexing, “un joven fuerte!” He clicks his tongue and grins as he sees his biceps strain his sweater, almost enough to see his button up through the threads. He fights back a smirk feeling his shirt underneath hug the sides of his chest as his soldiers expand. Feeling his thicker pits start to sweat through said shirt and into the jacket he resolves to remove the cardigan.

His struggled grunts echo through the museum space as he struggles to get the cardigan off over his chest. The sound of fabric tearing rips through the room as stitches finally give way down the whole front of the garment, his pecs bursting larger into the open air. The top few buttons of his dress shirt also explode open as he is finally freed from the constricting sweater, “ayy dios- fuck…” He whispers to himself as he appreciates the ice cold air of the museum on his sweaty skin. The white dress shirt may as well be sheer with his sweat soaking it, allowing any gawkers to easily see tattoos running down his arm and the nipples almost poking through the shirt.

Only briefly does he wonder why he’s not self conscious about being exposed in the gallery before he notices a side-exhibition hall. “Ah si, uh. The temporary exhibit,” he whispers dreamily. Keeping quiet as any respectful museum-goer does. Though he doesn’t quite have the bodily awareness to mute his increasingly loud footsteps, each one growing louder as his upper body expands. He looks up to read the title of the exhibit as the sound of his shoulders widen enough to tear the back of his button up. Marichismo: Taking Back Latino Masculinity. He smirks as he finds the idea compelling, he’s uh, not hispanic of course. Nor has he ever been intrigued by ‘art’ in the slightest, he thinks. But something draws him deeper. Something pulls him further. Something in him begs for more.

His pants creak as he crosses the threshold into the new space, his ass expanding beyond the pale. Similarly does his crotch demand both more room and his attention as Arlad is immediately face to face with a deliberately provocative statue. The blush burning his face is just as soon hidden as his tan grows darker as he’s overwhelmed by everything in front of him. It’s as if Tom of Finland were Chicano. Bulges beyond belief force their way out at every angle. Rigid thick mustaches hang stoic on every face as Arlad feels his own stubble grow darker, thicker, itchier.

The student is torn between instincts, just as he feels increasingly torn between two worlds. His body continues ballooning and his shirt bursts clean off, buttons scatter to the floor and sharp tears launch down his arms. He can’t help but hungrily scan the floorspace as the bright lights bore into him, exposing him as if he were a piece of art on display. He looks down just in time to see his cock burst large enough to blow his zipper out which only addles his mind further, “Tal vez, just a minute…” He wanders into the exhibit hall proper as his eyes finally make the jump into a rich chocolate brown. He trips over his feet, gasping as he feels them stuffed uncomfortably tight in his oxfords before kicking off the shoes altogether. Just as soon do his pants rip off and he is left almost entirely nude in this exhibit hall.

His mouth hangs open as his cock acts almost like a dowsing rod in between pieces. The language in which Arcad thinks rapidly begins to change altogether, already a bilingual medley, with each starved look at photographed vaqueros or bulge forward paintings does English drift farther away. Maintaining fluency in both of course, the man would never let that tongue take predominance over that of his madre y su madre before her. His pecs pump even larger with pride as thick curls begin itching up from his crotch. He scratches at his stomach as he smirks at his body finally getting on brand. This whole show is about displaying masculinity and he needs to be the apex. He needs…

Arcad twitches as these definitive thoughts cut through the fog in which he has been going about. Why does he care so much about this place? He doesn’t like art. Certainly not this uh smut. He twitches as he argues that being provocative is the point, sexualization of the male form is the point. Why could he know that? How does he know anything about this exhibit? Looking around at the photographs he sees men who are almost a parody of masculinity. Fighting back the overwhelming pervasive horniness issuing forth from balls bulging larger he takes a deep breath and ignores the temple to the male form around him. 

It’s impossible for him to notice as his thoughts crest fully into español. After all it simply is the language in which he has always thought, no matter what his teachers demand of him. Back to the matter at hand he is struck with the urge to create. Mierda- this exhibition really inspired him, he should really write an essay about this. Or, no. He moans and clutches at his temples as the shining lights out of sight gleam even brighter, sparkling off his sweaty muscled form as he’s racked with the pain of opposing realities. No, that isn’t right. He doesn’t do essays anymore. That’s not how he creates. 

Memories of long hours at the lab and in dark rooms sitting at a keyboard dissipate. Haughty superiority over fields and forms he deems insignificant thankfully blast away as images of the photographs and artworks around him come to mind with an ease that makes him uneasy. Creeping in from the edges of his lived memory are other exhibits, many that he has visited, some that he has put on of his own accord. 

Tattoos continue to drip down his arm as his treasure trail rushes onto his chest, blooming out to cover his pecs. The space in between his mustache and goatee is quickly filled, as are the entirety of his cheeks as his eyes shut even tighter. Independent muscle groups twitch as his body struggles to forge him even larger, to be more. The lengthy curls on his head fall away as his head returns to a buzz cut, this time black as the night. This time impossibly deliberate. 

Arcadio buzzed it himself, he loved his curls. But he knew for this exhibition he had to sacrifice. Anything for his art. The phrase burns across his mind, Marichismo. It, it was his exhibition. Arcadio opens his eyes to find himself standing across from an oppressive statue staring down at him in disdain. His blood boils as his fight or flight activates. Though staying strong he just clenches his fist as his body bulges larger one last time. “Papa.” He made that statue, he isn’t about to be shoved around by his own art. The feeling of confidence filling him at standing up against the domineering statue is more than he could have held within him as Allan. Reverbs of confidence go through his psyche as he finally gets it. Turning around the confidence that fills him rapidly dissipates as he sees a man posing like a dog.

He exercised complete creative control of the exhibition, but did he take this? Memories of being behind the lens of the camera dance through his mind for most of the images, this one seems obscured. He ignores the cold sudden sting of a nose ring as he leans in close to inspect it, smirking all the while. Who’d he get to model this? Looking at the jockstrap he nods approvingly, mierda it is certainly hot though. His underwear stretches to its absolute limit as he forces his large hand down to paw his cock at the image. Looking down at his hairy forearm he gasps as he sees the tattoo on his forearm perfectly matches that of the model. 

At that moment his underwear burst free from his body and he suddenly realizes that being nude in this space is far worse a breach of etiquette than touching that coyote. Arcadio sprints to his bag and digs around for anything he could possibly use to hide his still bulging cock at half mast. “¡Gracias a dios!” he whispers under his breath as he wraps a towel around his waist, perfectly mimicking a photograph behind him. He smirks at the man thinking how proud Jose will be when he gets to see himself on a gallery wall. Arcadio grunts and clenches his head as memories of the man ahead of him fill his mind. Lightheaded he leans against the wall grimacing as he leads a sweaty handprint on the pristine white wall.

Turning around seeing the exhibit hall as a whole he almost falls over with a rush of memories. Advanced math and the life he once lived as Allan are dust in the wind as his childhood growing up the son of first generation immigrants in San Antonio rises to take their place. Living alone with his mother before his abuela moved up from Mexico to help raise him as if he were her son. Understanding himself and the world around him as he discovered who he was and what he had to do. Finally achieving success, winning grants, booking galleries as an artist. Not too bad for a maricon eh? He winks at the statue of his father, smirking as he feels his power as a man and artist grow.

Looking down at some engineering homework scattered from his bag the last pangs of a headache buzzes through him before he shakes his head and the work is gone. The last shreds of a life he once lived dissipate. Walking out into the lobby he sees his abuelita. She smiles at the massive man before adjusting her glasses and shouting out, “¡Ay! ¿Qué estás haciendo? ¡Ponte algo de ropa! (What are you doing! Put some clothes on!)” Arcadio laughs and waves her off, knowing the museum is closed while he preps his exhibition for opening tomorrow. 

His new voice is rich on his tongue as he speaks up, “Espero que les guste. La universidad no sabe lo que pagaron ¡ja! (Hope they like it. The uni doesn’t know what they paid for ha!)” His abuelita clicks her tongue, she loves her grandson more than the world but boy if he hasn’t made her old beyond her years. She digs through the lost and found next to her for something that might fit her larger than life grandson and throws it at him. The man laughs and his abuelita can’t help but join in the reverie. She wouldn’t dream of going through his exhibit- que obsceno, que cachondo! But he could do no real wrong in her eyes. So far he’s blown her expectations out of the water with his success and she can’t wait to see what Arcadio gets up to next.

Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

A young man exploring the town where they filmed the show Once Upon a Time. He walks to the docks and notices Captain Hook's ship docked further down the harbor. He is curious about it since he doesn't recall any tour guides mentioning the ship being here in town.

He ends up on board the ship. In awe as he explores it, taking pictures with his phone as he does so. The further he ventures on the ship the more he changes.

He grows taller. Clothing turning into an open leather coat and trousers. His torso becoming covered in hair. His clean shaven face itching with new stubble growing along hismrippling face. Soon his memories alter as well. Forgetting his old self as he fully turns into Captain Hook.

Kevin Jonas's New Career

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jonas,” the hypnotherapist, Blue, greeted the hunky singer.

The former boy band member entered the small office and took a seat on the offered sofa. When he sat, his thin t-shirt clung to his chiseled, smooth chest, allowing the hypnotherapist to view his toned body that had helped him gain scores of adoring fans. “Oh please, you can call me ‘Kevin’,” Kevin Jonas smiled, flashing a cute grin at Blue.

Blue simply nodded as he sat down across from the singer, his notepad in hand. “Alright Kevin,” he smiled, hiding the devious glint in his eye, “why don’t we start with why you’re here?”

The stud cleared his throat, running his hand through his curly hair. “Well,” he began, his baritone audible in his manly voice, “I think I’m ready for a new career path. I mean, I’ve been a part of the Jonas Brothers for years, and while I love it, I’m ready to see what else is out there.”

Blue hummed to himself.  “And what do you think is stopping you from taking that leap?”

The singer bit down on his lower lip in thought, leaning back into the sofa. As he moved, his tight shirt strained against his smooth muscles once more, illustrating his dedication to his body. He worked out religiously, aiming to get a toned, more athletic aesthetic that many of his fans could drool over. They loved the clean, good boy look that he oozed with ease— toned muscles, smooth baby face, and an all around happy-go-lucky attitude.

It was no wonder why he’d stayed in the boy band for so long; he was perfect for the part!

“I think it’s just been all I’ve known,” Kevin admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve gotten too comfortable with it that it’s hard to leave.”

Blue nodded, encouraging the singer to continue.

“I mean,” Kevin huffed, an annoyed tone in his voice, “no matter how much I try to branch out, all people see is that clean cut, Disney singer. I’m ready for a change.”

Blue’s smirk took over his face, and he had to shield it behind his notepad before Kevin could notice. “I think I have an idea,” he mischievously said as he snatched his pocket watch out of his pocket. “Now, just watch this watch with you eyes only as I swing it back and forth. And concentrate on the sound of my voice…”

Kevin did as he was told, his eyes following the gentle swaying motions of the watch—

Blue snapped his fingers. “You still with me, Kevin?” he asked, yanking the singer out of his daze.

Kevin jerked back in the sofa, shaking his head a little as he struggled to regain his bearings. He glanced at the clock on the wall and was amused to see that an hour had already passed, meaning that the hypnotherapy really must’ve been a success. He didn’t remember a single thing! “Whoa,” was all he could manage to get out, still trying to wrap his head around the quick session. Despite it just happening, Kevin could not recall a single detail about what Blue had told him while he’d supposedly been under. No matter how hard he strained his brain, the last thing he could recall vividly was staring at the pocket watch, and that was it.

“This concludes our first session,” Blue smiled warmly. “I’ll see you next week for our second session. In the meantime, if anything comes up, please give me a call.”

Kevin graciously thanked Blue before leaving the office, his head held high as he headed to his car to drive home.

As he walked, Kevin began to tug at the collar of his t-shirt, all of a sudden feeling a little warm. The singer cocked his eyebrow in confusion since it was a cool, overcast day; yet, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortably warm and a little constricted wearing the tight fabric. He tugged at his shirt collar, trying to get any minuscule semblance of relief in the odd rising heat. Kevin swore that his skin even started to itch, further increasing his discomfort. Even worse, the slight breeze that filtered in through the parking garage made the legs of Kevin’s pants billow and flap, making the singer feel as if they were too big for him.

He knew that it was ridiculous, but when Kevin glanced in one of the car mirrors, he swore his clothes looked way too big for him.

“Did I really leave the house like this?” Kevin blushed as he examined his oversized attire. Despite having on expensive, brand-name clothes that typically showcased his muscled body in a modest manner, he couldn’t help but view them in a different light now. Whereas his pants normally seemed to fit his toned legs nicely, he couldn’t help but notice how they were too baggy in the seat, making his butt look flat and unimpressive. Worse was that his shirt, which normally tastefully showed off his pecs and biceps, appeared more akin to a circus tent due to how loose it seemed.

Without thinking, Kevin tore his shirt away from his body, allowing his bare chest to be on full display. He knew that walking around shirtless in the parking garage was outside of the norm, but he couldn’t deny the rush of relief that crashed over him due to having his chest exposed. The cool air brushing over the pert nipples felt right, and Kevin smiled as he continued towards his car.

Once he was seated in the driver’s seat, the singer couldn’t resist tearing his pants away from himself, feeling leagues better just sitting in his boxers.

As he drove home, a small part of Kevin said that something was off, but he ignored it and instead focused on the road ahead. It wasn’t until he was stopped at a red light that the stud realized that he’d been massaging his smooth pectoral with one hand while driving. He blushed a little bit when he noticed, but his blush deepened when he saw the man in the car next to him staring.

The other man smirked back and gave an approving nod, even going so far as to lick his lips hungrily.

Out of instinct, Kevin gave his nipple a pinch and his jaw went slack as he moaned. His cock started to harden and it tented out his boxers, bobbing in the air in front of him—

The car behind Kevin honked as the light turned green.

The singer snapped out of his daze, his heart racing in his bare chest as he continued to drive home. He tried to wrap his head around what had just happened. Given his good boy aesthetic, he never in his life would have ever considered showing off in traffic, let alone to another man. Still, his cock throbbed with want at the recent memory, and his nipples burned with want. Every so often, during his drive, Kevin’s free hand would rub his pecs and thumb his hard nipples.

This continued until Kevin finally reached his house and parked in the garage. He was slightly relieved that he was finally home and no one could see him in his horny state, but another growing part of him couldn’t get over the flash of excitement that he’d felt when the other guy had seen him playing with his pecs. At the thought of it, his cock throbbed even more and began to leak precum.

Kevin did his best to ignore his throbbing member as he began to walk around his house aimlessly… or at least he thought it was aimlessly, until he snatched up a trash bag. His limbs seemed to move on their own accord, and it took Kevin a while to realize what he was doing. 

The first thing the hunk did was go into the bathroom and throw away every single razor that he owned. He cocked his eyebrow, wondering what had possessed him to do that, but the more he tried to think about it, the more a thick fog seemed to filter in through his brain; and instead of thinking about maintaining his boyish charm and friendly good looks, his mind was bombarded with mental imaged of manly body hair.

His cock throbbed even more.

Next, Kevin tossed all of his pricey colognes and deodorant into the trash bag. Manly musk and smelly pits invaded his brain, and Kevin couldn’t resist lifting his arm and shoving his nose into his hairy pit, taking a large whiff. Only he was disappointed when all he smelt was the chemicals of his deodorant, making him frown. He couldn’t wait until he radiated manly musk.

His cock throbbed again.

Finally, Kevin waddled into his bedroom, his hard cock bobbing in front of him with every step. The first thing he did was rip open the closet doors. He began to snatch up all of his button down shirts, shoving them into the trash bag with an almost giddy excitement. Every single article of clothing that was deemed as too loose or too modest was thrown away, leaving only a few t-shirts that were a size too small and some workout shorts. To these, Kevin took a pair of scissors and trimmed them, making them even smaller and much more revealing. The entire time Kevin worked, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of wearing such slutty and revealing clothing while out in public, his hairier chest and musky pits on display for all to see—

“Ughh!” Kevin bellowed loudly as his cock erupted, shooting a large load into his boxers. His pecs heaving as he tried to catch his breath, Kevin looked down at the stuffed trash bag and then towards his cut up clothes, and he couldn’t help but blush for the millionth time that day.

He imagined himself strolling around town wearing next to nothing, his body on display as he showed off like some dim, jockbro slut. And what was even stranger was that that thought didn’t cause any sort of humiliation, but instead sent an excited thrill through Kevin, making his cock rocket back to life in a snap.

“What’s happening to me?” Kevin panted, running a hand over his sensitive chest.

[Two Weeks Later]

“Welcome back, Kevin,” Blue smiled warmly as he greeted his patient into his office.

The newly transfigured Kevin Jonas sauntered into the hypnotherapist’s room, his head held high as he basked in the warmth that having another man’s eyes on his form brought him. Instead of the clean cut, good boy next door looking guy that had been at the first session, a new man entered.

Kevin wore a tiny tank top that was two sizes too small for him, and the bottom part had been cut off so that it ended right above his navel. Speaking off, Kevin had quit his shaving routine, allowing his chest hair to grow out more, the wisps of manly chest hair covering his entire torso. His fuzzy pecs were barely contained in the small tank, and when Blue stared more, he could make out the large nubs pressing against the tight fabric from where Kevin had pierced his nubby, sensitive nipples. He wore tight spandex shorts that showcased his thick hairy thighs and his impressive bubble butt. Speaking of, Kevin must’ve been hard at work at his at-home gym because his butt seemed to be a bit rounder and firmer, as if he’d been hard at work trying to look bigger. The large bulge in the front of his shorts was noticeably hard, and Kevin kept adjusting it as he entered the office, his hand seemingly constantly fondling himself under the other man’s gaze, making himself get even harder.

Kevin wore a cocky grin that was framed by the manly scruff on his face, particularly his new mustache. Instead of looking like a heartthrob from a boy band, Kevin now looked like he’d been ripped straight out of some porn site.

When he sat down on the couch, Kevin folded his arms behind his head, letting his hairy pits be on full display, his manly musk permeating the room.

“I see you’ve been doing well, Kevin,” Blue smiled, his eyes running up and down the singer’s new hairy body. “Tell me, have you still been feeling trapped in your career?”

Kevin shook his head, one of his hands still kneading his hard cock as he spoke. “No way,” he laughed, his voice having a deeper and slower quality to it. “I’ve already made up my mind to quit that stupid band.”

Blue couldn’t fight his smirk. “Oh?” he pressed. “And what path have you decided to take instead?”

Kevin mindlessly scratched at a hairy pec. “I’ve been thinking about streaming,” he said, leaning back further into the couch cushions. “I can just play some video games while I flex for people online. I figure for every sub I get, I’ve just flex my tits for them.”

To illustrate his point, Kevin made his hairy pecs bounce up and down, loving the action even more with Blue watching. Plus, the sensation of his shirt rubbing up against his hard nipples made his cock start to leak precum into his shorts, forming a wet spot in the front.

Blue nodded and hummed. “I’m happy to hear that, Kevin,” he commented, feeling a little mischievous spark, “but just to doublecheck…” Blue snapped his fingers.

Immediately, Kevin jerked back in his spot on the couch, looking as if he’d just been slapped. His eyes went wide and a rush of humiliation crashed over him as the realization of what he’d been doing over the past two weeks dawned on him.

The first thing that struck Kevin the most was the musk that wafted off of him. “Wh-what?” he panicked, lowering his buff arms and staring down at his altered body. The stunned singer paled as he glanced at his large, hairy pecs and his pierced nipples. His fingers accidentally grazed one of his hard nipples, and he had to stifle a moan as his cock throbbed like crazy in his tight shorts. His face went cherry red as he vividly recalled himself sauntering into the hypnotherapist’s office, wearing next to nothing and looking like some hairy jockbro slut who was super musky. “What the hell happened to me?!”

“I helped you figure out a new career path,” Blue simply stated. “You were tired of the boy band scene, so I thought that a new change of pace would do you well.”

Kevin gestured down at his altered form. “So you turn me into this?” he spat. “What the hell am I even wearing?”

“You can take it off, if you’d prefer?” Blue suggested.

“I’m not going to take…” Kevin trailed off as his arms moved on their own accord, grabbing the bottom of his tank top to tug it off. He tossed it to the floor, and despite the panic coursing through his veins, he couldn’t deny the spark of excitement he felt over having his hairy chest exposed. It became clearer to him that even though he’d been made aware of what happened, he was still under the influence of Blue’s hypnosis.

“See, Kevin?” Blue said, his smooth voice making the singer squirm in his seat. “I’ve made it so that you’ll love living out your life as a slutty cam boy. It won’t be so bad, right?”

“‘Not so bad’?” Kevin repeated incredulously. “Look at me!”

“I am looking at you, and there’ll be a lot more guys who’ll look too,” Blue explained. “We’ll set up an OnlyFans account to tie into your streaming career. That way, you can totally immerse yourself into your new career path. You’ll love it, trust me.”

The thought of having tons of guys watching and looking at his altered body as he showed it off made Kevin’s cock throb even harder. Kevin was aware of everything he was doing, but he couldn’t stop. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he liked it.

Blue walked forward and grabbed both of Kevin’s meaty, hairy pecs. He groped the large muscle mounds and ran his fingers through the new hairs that covered them. Kevin tried to hold back a moan over the sensation of another man playing with his sensitive chest, but he couldn’t prevent the low slutty noises from escaping his mouth. 

“See?” Blue smirked. “It looks like you like it.”

“Mmmm,” Kevin moaned, screaming at himself on the inside while trying to convince himself that he didn’t like it. His cock was leaking precum like crazy now, and he was rendered inert as he was felt up.

Becoming some slutty cam guy wasn’t Kevin’s first choice of a new career path, but he couldn’t deny the fact that his body lit up with electricity when the other man touched him, and he was desperate for more. He unconsciously bounced his chest and lifted both of his arms to flex his massive biceps. His manly musk started to waft out into the small office.

“Smell them,” Kevin heard himself playfully growl, placing a large hand on the back of Blue’s head.

Blue eagerly shoved his face into Kevin’s armpit and took a deep whiff, loving the manly musk that permeated his senses, making it smell like his office was a gym locker room instead. As he sniffed and licked at Kevin’s pit, Blue’s hand reached up and tugged on one of Kevin’s pierced nipples, making the singer squeal with delight.

“Ooohh!” Kevin moaned loudly, his untouched cock snaking out of his tight shorts and bobbing out in the open air.

Blue pulled away and went to his desk where he grabbed his phone. “Let’s go ahead and make your first video, Kevin,” he said. “And just know, I gave you back your awareness, so you’re free to stop at any time you want. If you choose that you don’t want this, then I’ll help you to return to your old life as a member of goody boy band.”

He pressed record and held up his phone towards the altered hunk.

Something clicked inside of Kevin’s brain, and as soon as he realized that he was being recorded, he couldn’t help but show off.

With one hand, he wrapped his fingers around his hard cock. With the other, he began to tug on one of his nipples, moaning loudly as he pleasured himself in front of Blue. He didn’t want to be stuck as some slutty cam boy, but at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the surge of pleasure that took over him. Despite himself, Kevin couldn’t stop fondling his hard cock or playing with his sensitive chest. He even lifted his arm and sniffed at his own pit, moaning loudly as he breathed in his sweaty musk.

“Oh shit,” he bellowed out, “that’s fuckin’ nice. This is what real man looks like.” He gestured down at his hairy chest. “Not some smooth pretty boy, but this is a real fuckin’ man— uuughhh!”

He came and his load squirted up onto his hairy pecs, which heaved as Kevin tried to catch his breath.

“Well, I think this is going to be a great debut,” Blue grinned. “What do you think, Kevin?”

Dazed as he basked in his post-orgasmic bliss, Kevin nodded. “Fuck yeah,” he bellowed, smiling as his hard nipples burned with want again.

… … …

“Hey everyone,” Kevin grinned as he sat at his desk set up, with his headphones on. The camera was positioned so that the viewers of his stream could see the background of his office, which was decorated with video game collectables and lit up with a neon motif. The streamer sat bare chested, his hairy pecs clearly the focus of the camera as they took up most of the screen. Thanks to his frequent workouts, they’d packed on some serious size, and Kevin liked to lean forward and have the muscled mounds rest on the desk, showing off how large and cumbersome they were. “It’s your boy, Kevin, here, ready to do another let’s play of the latest Pokémon game.”

As part of his new streaming career, Kevin would frequently play video games shirtless, constantly flexing or showing off as he played— a majority of his viewers couldn’t even recall the game he’d been playing, they’d mainly just watched the horny hunk feel himself up. Every so often, Kevin would bounce his muscletits, tug on his nipples, or sniff at his smelly pits. For those followers who wanted to see something a little more mature, he’d set up his OnlyFans account which attracted scores of followers, eager to see the hot, hairy hunk pleasure himself in front of the camera. 

Kevin had completely gone from a clean cut boy band member to a hot, hairy slut.

“Check these out!” Kevin grinned as he thrusted his chest forward, showing off the shiny silver rings on his nubby nipples. “My boyfriend, Blue, got me these piercings. Fuckin’ hot, right?” He bounced his pecs in tandem, making the silver rings dangle with the movement.

On occasions, his brothers Nick and Joe would try to talk some sense into Kevin, asking why he’d been acting so differently and why he’d quit the band. Kevin would typically just snort at them and call them a bunch of little bitches with how desperately they’d clung onto their shiny Disney appearance. Luckily, Blue had reassured him that he would try to get them to understand his new life…

As Kevin played his game on the stream, he would flex here and there, his hard cock hidden underneath the desk. It throbbed with want and the more his viewer count climbed, the more men watched Kevin watch like a heated slut, the more turned on the stud was.

“Ugghhh!” Kevin groaned as he tensed up, his hairy pecs jiggling as he came on stream. The whole time the chat cheered and sent tons of eggplant emojis as the hunk spent his load for all to see.

Kevin loved his new streamer slut life, a dazed grin forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck, that was nice,” he bellowed, already growing hard again as more and more people logged in to watch.

FML: Break

It had only been a few weeks, but already I was over this. Three weeks to crush a dream. Honestly, the burnout had been bad but I thought summer would help. I would have more time to myself. Relax. Reset. But as the first deadlines started breathing down my neck, I was this close to snapping.

The longer I stared, the more I couldn’t take it. I needed a break. Something to take my mind off things. Even if just for a few days. I needed Hypnodope.

I first came across their ads freshman year, and I dared my roommate to take the plunge. Their website had a few options, so I popped on a random one, and input one hour, the lowest it went. I just expect it to be a one hour loop of weird mumbling and graphics that we would turn off after a minute or two. But I watched in awe as in a few short minutes, a tan started creeping from his finger tips down his arms. He didn’t react then, nor when hair turned a dirty gold and his body hair vanished. But he certainly did as muscle began pumping into his thin frame, moaning as each pulse stretched his now golden skin taut to his muscular frame. He began to hump at the air as he ripped through his clothes, giving me a full view of his rod between his legs, though it was quickly covered by his thick fingers as he began jacking off to the video. By the time he finally came, my roommate was no longer sitting in front of me. Instead, a horny, golden boy was eying me up and down, as he assessed whether or not I was worthy to suck his perfect cock.

He put in the work for that hour, no position off limits, no taste of his too bold as I submitted to him. But just after our second round, he trembled as his skin lost its hue. His muscles were sucked back into his frame, and my new roommate was back, blushing in front of me, as he rushed to put on some clothes.

I hadn’t been back to the site since then, a little too self conscious to explore the power I possessed. But after a night in the library from dusk to dawn, with no end in sight, I knew it may be the only way to force myself into a break. With caution I pulled up the site and scrolled the options.

I knew I didn’t want anything too serious. Certainly not the extent that my roommate had. But I wanted something that would take the edge off. And I think I found the perfect one: “Fucking Feral, Bro”. The name was a bit much, but it had basically everything I wanted. More muscle, boosted stamina, lowered inhibition and capacity for concern. I figured a few hours would be enough to try it out and have a great night out. So, I laid down, turned on the video, and prepared to be relaxed.

Almost immediately my brain felt fuzzy, like the static that was showing was in my head. Then, an image came into focus. It was some muscled up guy, stripped down to his speedo, not a care in the world as he posed for the camera. He looked like he was having fun. I wonder where he’s going? Must be relaxing…

I stretched out on my bed to get comfortable. For some reason I was just so tight. So uptight too. I didn’t need to be so stressed. A pressure I didn’t know I was holding was releasing from my head. It was so relaxing as I just lay back and stared deeper and deeper at the spiral now on screen. I could be just like the guy on the screen. No.

Like. My. Broooooo.

My hand drifted down to my cock at full attention. I didn’t even pause as I felt the heat radiating from it. My had just began gliding up and down. It was insanely sensitive. I bit my lip to keep the moans from escaping. As I stroked up and down, I felt it pulsing in my hand, swelling from five inches to six, then seven, growing more sensitive with each stroke. My toes were curling in my shoes, but soon felt constrained. I looked down to see the cheap leather straining to hold them in. With one flex of my foot, my size 12 soles ripped clean through. Meanwhile, my legs were getting some love, calves shredding while my thighs swole with muscles and fat. They squeezed against my heavy balls, increasing the raw animalistic pleasure I was devolving into as thick pre dribbled from my thick mushroom-tip and coated my monster.

By the time I started to worry a bit, it was too late. It was becoming hard to focus on my body, even as my gut sucked in and pushed out a perfect 6-pack and pecs chiseled from muscle and fat hung heavy on my chest. I could only focus on the changes rippling down my arms because the pump in my forearms was keeping me jacking and my thick fingers and calloused palms were much easier to wrap around my needy cock. I tried to stop myself, to will myself to turn off the now strobing screen. But the sensation was too much, and I could no longer hold back moans that were quickly deepening.

A fog of hormones was fully engulfing my brain now, dimming any reservations I could muster about my heightened state. I was moaning in heat at this point, ready to bury my cock in just about anyone. The video was edging me now, pushing as much change as it could before it released me. Every muscle in my body flexed, getting one last pump in. But as the video gave its command to cum, one pump was all I needed to coat the wall. I was left hot and panting, but somehow relaxed and insanely horny. As I checked myself out, dude I was sooo much hotter.

I let my free hand trace my abs and grab at my meaty pecs. Playing with my nips was like a whole new level bro, sent me into overtime. I couldn’t stop imagining the holes I needed to split open with this monster, just as I couldn’t stop just flexing, feeling the power surging through my veins. It was almost impossible to pull my hands away, but I knew I needed to hit the bars and get a few drinks in me. Bro, what was old me thinking, setting this for only the night? He was always such a bore anyways. I threw on the tightest tee shirt I could find, and some grey sweatpants. Rocking the fuckboi special, I was on the prowl for some ass to plow.

The night wasn’t great. Naw, it was excellent. Climbing back into my dorm room, I was soaked in sweat and reeked of sweat, beer, and cum. I had lost track of how many men I’d made my bitch that night. I at least remembered ripping off my shirt before sliding into one in the alley outside. God, I was a fucking show dude. Should have seen the faces of some of the dudes, I don’t think they were expecting me to switch so easily from topping to bottoming. I was an animal, I was feral.

I was out of control.

I may have been fighting through that horny haze, but I knew one thing for certain. In just a few hours I would wake up in my bed and immediately worry. Worry about the night, the consequences, the danger. And I would never get to have that much fun again in my life. Bro, it was so damn boring being such a square. Someone had to make a decision.

I turned back to my laptop and began scrolling through options. I needed someone like me, someone who would make sure we had a good time. I needed someone to maintain this lifestyle for years. Maybe we could make some physique upgrades too. But above all, I needed someone who couldn’t ever find a way to set us back. And there it was, the perfect candidate. As I added more and more time, some stupid warnings tried to pop up, but I didn’t care. I was already hard at just the thought of the bro I was about to unleash. I hit play and braced for impact. I was going to be so fucking dumb, dude.

The effect was immediate. My eyes were blinded by a bright flash on screen as a dull ringing buzzed in my ears and rattled my head. The world around me felt heavy and slow. Every muscle was on edge, trembling beneath some unseen weight. The world was pushing in around me. I was frozen in a moment of pressure. But then, at the front of my brain bro, it was warm. And tingly. And soooo relaaaaxed. As it rippled through my head, I couldn’t help but relax my face, eyes half closed, tongue out, drool drip

Drip

Dripping.

With each drip, it felt easier to relax, easier to thaw. And as I let each IQ point drip slowly out of my brain, off my tongue, and roll down my chest, I felt the waves crashing down my body.

It started in my shoulders, rolling into mountains of muscle, absurd in size even against my muscular body. But quickly it moved deep in my chest, pushing out from deep within my pecs. The sensation was overwhelming as with each strained breath muscle and fat hung heavier from my frame. I could even feel it as my nips stretched, wide and hard as diamonds. My arms began to loosen and instinctively brought themselves to massage my fat muscle tits. But soon they had to pull away, locked in a double-bicep pose as they inflated to near absurd proportions. As I flexed my forearms in and out, I felt the resistance growing as my biceps rolled back and forth. I was starting to truly feel hot and sweaty as the waves of muscles continued to ripple downward.

I could feel the heat as it started targeting my lower half. No longer toned muscle, it felt heavy against the bed even as I sat there. It throbbed as nearly any remaining fat on my body channeled into my ass, leaving it straining against the seams of my shorts. They were growing bigger by the minute. Though my cock and balls were certainly trying their best to compete. As my pouch was slowly becoming overstimulated by the pressure in their tight quarters, my cock was snaking down my leg to find space. I was ineptly pawing at my zipper, trying to find some release. But the final blow came as my thighs pushed out. The legs were busting through seams as I finally gave up and ripped through the remaining fabric, fervently stroking my heavy cock. Then it too started to drip…

Drip…

Drip.

As my cock began oozing, I felt like brain was slowly melting down. My thoughts felt heavy. I knew that the video was giving me commands, but I couldn’t even try to process them. I could only feel them slip deep in my brain bruh. I could feel him in there. Some version of me trying to keep it together. But he was getting real confused. And really horny. Heh, he was becoming just like the rest of me. Wasn’t it easier to just let my muscles talk? Wasn’t it easier to just feel out what to do? Wasn’t it easier to just give in and… and… be… duhhhh-

Can’t think. Gotta release. My balls are aching dude. I can’t hold onto these brains any more. I need it… I need… au… AUH… AUGHHHH

As the last of my brains shot out of me, I was left in a state of absolute happiness. No thoughts. No worries. Just heat and muscle. As the last of my brains shot out of me, I was left in a state of absolute happiness. No thoughts. No worries. Just heat and muscle.

I was perfect bro. The world came into focus as I sat up. I didn’t even realize my tongue was still hanging out.

It was a beautiful day outside, bruh. I just needed to find a hole to start it off with.

A Sweaty Semester

Dean let out a heavy breath as he wiped the sweat from his face. His phone said it was 98 degrees out but it felt like 112. He’d been dreading moving in August for this very reason, but at least the worst was over now, he thought. Surrounded by boxes he slumped onto his new bed, his soaked shirt cold against his back. Dean had just moved into his dorm room in central Texas, a full week early because his mom said he should “get to know the town”. The building was old and the air conditioning was barely functioning, leading to a miserable couple hours of moving boxes in oppressive heat. After a long drive and the unloading ordeal, he was exhausted, the heat lulling him to sleep as he laid on his bare bed. 

That was until the door to his room flew open, banging against the wall and startling Dean out of his nap. He heard shuffling and grunting outside in the hall as a stench began to leak into the room. It was almost more nauseating than the heat, a pungent mix of sweat, body odor, and who knows what else. Dean’s eyes watered as a figure holding several boxes stepped into the room before dropping them onto the opposing bed. He turned around revealing himself to Dean. He was at least six feet tall, broad and pretty built, his large frame only partially covered by a sweat soaked tank top. His face was covered in a thick beard, and the tank revealed a substantially hairy chest and shoulders. Now that he was in Dean’s face, the stench was ten times as bad, he could practically taste the sweat on the guy’s body in the air. He grinned and stuck out a hand towards Dean, “The name’s Hunter.”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds too long before stretching out his own, “Dean.” Hunter’s grin turned into a full on smile. 

“Well nice to meet ya dude!” he said with a vigorous handshake. Dean was still staring at him, there was no way Hunter was a college freshman, he looked years older than himself at the very least. His daze was broken when Hunter raised an arm to scratch the side of his head, letting a fresh wave of musky stench out directly into Dean’s face. He nearly doubled over from the intensity; how on Earth was he going to live with someone who stunk like this?

“It’s a real roaster out there today huh? I’ve got some more boxes out in my truck that I’m gonna go get, but first let’s get some air flowing in here.” Hunter proceeded to open the dorm window letting a gust of blistering air inside. “It may still be hot but at least it’s some circulation,” he chuckled before walking back into the hall and leaving Dean alone. He was stunned. The outside air helped marginally with the lingering scent but made the heat even worse, and in minutes he was back to sweating buckets. Dean’s mind was racing with thoughts trying to cope with how the next year of living with this guy would be. He could barely think straight when Hunter was in the room with that eye watering aroma of his. While he was still alone Dean stripped off his sopping wet shirt and threw on a fresh one to try and maintain some level of comfort, before beginning the arduous task of unpacking all of his boxes.

A few minutes later Hunter returned with another huge stack of boxes, his sweat-drenched form glistening in the afternoon light. “Alright I think that’s most of it, guess I’ll join ya here in putting it all away!” he laughed. Dean managed to put on a smile but internally he was really going through it, and that was before Hunter pulled out a speaker and put on some music that sounded like something Dean’s father would listen to. Dean gulped, and they both got to work unpacking box after box. Even though he’d just changed, Dean’s shirt was soaked almost immediately. He had to pull out his bath towel just to wipe the sweat from his face. He knew it was hot but this was getting ridiculous, and on top of that he could barely breathe with Hunter’s noxious fumes filling the room. After a while of hanging clothes and dripping sweat all over the room, Dean backed out into the hall to use the bathroom. Miraculously, it was significantly cooler out there. Maybe the open window was doing more harm than anything, he thought. Upon returning to the room a few minutes later he was greeted with a blast of late afternoon heat, the intense smell of a sweaty body, and Hunter lounging on his haphazardly made bed, exposing his ripe pits to the air. 

Dean paused in the doorway, unknowingly staring at Hunter’s pits. They were covered with thick tufts of brown hair, matted down by sweat. He could practically see the stench wafting from them. Hunter looked up from his phone, catching Dean staring. He smirked before reaching with one hand to tousle the hairs, even pulling his hand up to his nose after to sniff it. Dean’s trance was broken by his gut reaction to gag at such a sight. Why had he been staring at those disgusting pits in the first place? He put those thoughts out of his mind and got back to shoving stuff under his bed. Sweat dripped from his hair onto everything in front of him; it was so hot in the room, and the smell of sweat permeated everything. Dean couldn’t get the sight of Hunter’s hairy sweaty body out of his mind for some reason, no matter how much he tried to focus on what he was doing. He even caught his dick pressing hard against his shorts at one point. What the hell was going on?

That night Dean laid out on his bed, tossing and turning from the heat. It had cooled down but Hunter insisted they keep the window open; at least it helped with the smell a bit. He could feel the top sheet beneath him was fully soaked through, his sweat was inescapable. He could see the drops on him shining from the streetlight outside. It was near impossible to get any rest like this, with Hunter snoring across the room stinking up the place. He’d taken off everything but his underwear just to try and cool down, exposing all of him to the heat. His thin pale body dripped sweat in the stagnant night air, drops sliding down his hairless skin. As Dean laid there, the sweat coating his body slowly began to soak into his skin. Thin, wispy hairs began to push out around his nipples, nearly invisible if not for the streetlight catching them. Following those, more hairs poked out in the center of his chest, these slightly darker and spreading over a wider area. They were short and laid flat against his skin as his chest became slightly less bony with a thin layer of muscle and fat gracing his rib cage. His forearms were dusted with a light coating of thin hairs, growing thicker near his wrists. His thighs expanded slightly in size before hairs began sprouting across their expanse, growing slightly thicker and darker than the others. His face itched as peach fuzz across his upper lip darkened a tad, with some more fuzz appearing around his chin. Dean groaned softly in his sleep as his dick pushed harder against his tight underwear, exposing his small amount of hair above. As the sweat soaked in, hairs began to multiply, short dark hairs pushing out from his bush, spreading upwards towards his stomach. As he rolled and twisted on the bed he exposed his bare armpits, and under the soft light from the lamppost thin wispy hairs began to sprout. The hairs grew longer, not too visible at a distance but enough to begin catching some sweat and scents of his own.

Hunter was awake as soon as the sunlight began to light up the room. He looked over at Dean, who was still out cold. He grinned upon seeing the light dusting of hairs that now adorned Dean’s chest and pits, before scratching at his own. He threw on some clothes and left to go jog and hit the gym. By the time Dean finally woke up all that was left was the faint remnant of Hunter’s smell. He rolled out of bed and hit the shower, too tired to notice any changes until he looked in the mirror after. His blood ran cold. What the hell was this? He had hair on his chest. Not much, but more than he’d ever had before. And his legs! They were nearly smooth yesterday! He raised his hands to his head and saw a dark spot under his arms. Pit hair?! Dean was really starting to freak out now, but for some reason he lowered his nose down and sniffed at one of his pits. Despite having just washed them, they already smelled fairly strongly of sweat and body odor; the scent was almost… familiar. Despite his mind screaming in anguish, the smell calmed him slightly. 

Dean tried to put the shower behind him as he got dressed and left the building. He had some shopping to get done before classes started and he wanted to get familiar with the area. An hour later he was walking down aisle after aisle of home goods and furniture, but his mind was somewhere else. He kept thinking about the hair growing on his chest, about Hunter’s strong odor, about how he couldn’t look away from Hunter’s rancid pits yesterday. He didn’t know what to think anymore, what was happening to him.

When he finally got back to the dorm he could already tell Hunter was inside, his smell leaking from under the door into the hall. It seemed slightly less putrid than before, but still an affront to his nose. WIth a deep breath, he opened the door. It was hot and smelly in the room, the afternoon sun blazing through the open window. Hunter was again laid out on his bed, this time entirely shirtless. His broad and toned torso was completely covered in thick hair, and drenched with sweat on top of that. He looked up at Dean and smiled.

“Hey champ! Where’ve you been?” he asked cheerfully. The question barely registered in Dean’s head as he was staring at the rug on Hunter’s chest. After a delay he responded.

“Oh, uh, just had some things I needed to pick up before school gets going,” he said. Hunter sat up and stretched his arms over his head, revealing both his sweaty pits. Dean was blasted by a fresh wave of the odor coming from them, but he didn’t recoil this time, or even gag.

“Ah yea, I should do that too probably,” Hunter laughed. He scratched at his pit, making eye contact with Dean while doing so. He noticed the bulge in Dean’s pants from across the room, before smiling devilishly. “I noticed this morning you’ve got a little more hair on you than I expected! Have to give you some credit,” he said with a smirk. Dean’s face went bright red.

“Did you do this? Are you the one fucking with my head? This isn’t me… It’s been in my head all day… How could you even…” Dean trailed off. Hunter stood up from the bed and walked over to Dean, his large size dwarfing the boy. At point blank the smell coming from Hunter was intoxicating, and Dean was internally torn. Part of him, the original Dean, was disgusted, the lack of cleanliness was an affront. But the other part of him had grown to love the scent, to think about it and Hunter all day, to crave it more and more. Hunter looked down at him with a cunning grin, before raising one of his arms and exposing that damp, rank, hairy pit. In that moment, the new Dean won. He stuck his face deep into Hunter’s dank armpit and breathed in, taking in the most intense smell yet. Hunter laughed and then grabbed the back of Dean's head and pushed it in even farther. Sweat dripped from Hunter’s pit hairs onto Dean’s face, his body soaked already from the thick summer heat.

As the sweat dripped down his face, Dean could feel something itching. The soft peach fuzz that had grown the night before was thickening. Light wisps grew into thick dark hairs, spreading from his upper lip and chin across his jaw and down his neck. The hairs pushed out quickly, filling in into a dense beard that scratched against Hunter’s pit. Hairs climbed up his cheeks, giving him a thick coating across his whole face, able to trap even more of the sweat dripping on him.

The sweat continued to drip down Dean’s neck and onto his chest as he breathed in more of Hunter’s thick scent. His flat chest began pushing outward, muscle piling onto his frame as two sturdy pecs made themselves known. The light coating of hairs he had grown was quickly overwhelmed as a carpet of thick dark curly hairs erupted across his chest. The sweat fertilized the open expanse as hairs wormed out all over his pecs, engulfing his nipples and tangling together. They reached up over his collarbone and even started growing in on his neck. The dense rug grew even thicker between his growing pecs, hairs multiplying until they looked like fur, hiding any skin. Dean pulled back from Hunter’s pit, gasping for fresh air as he rubbed his hands through the newly grown hair.

Dean felt almost high from taking in so much of Hunter’s pit stench. He wobbled back against his bed and continued to rub his hands through his new chest hair. He groaned as he felt his body continue to expand. His shoulders grew larger and rounder, biceps exploding with size, and his torso grew muscled and took on a V shape. He stripped off his sweat drenched shirt only to see the thick hairs from his stomach spreading downward. His tight stomach was buried beneath a dense mat of dark hairs as they raced south towards his groin. It was then that he finally noticed the massive bulge in his pants, his cock having grown at least a few inches and pushing his shorts to their limit. Hunter stepped over and ripped both his shorts and underwear clean off, letting Dean’s still growing cock bob free. Hunter grabbed it with one hand and before Dean could finish moaning he shoved his face back into his sweaty armpit. Dean’s open mouth was filled with sweaty hair, Hunter’s pungent sweat now dripping down his throat. Dean continued to moan from inside the pit, the pitch growing steadily deeper as his Adam’s apple pushed out.

Hunter took his hand off Dean’s cock, wiped it across his furry chest to get it nice and sweaty, then returned it and began stroking slowly up and down. Dean’s body shuddered with pleasure as pre immediately shot out of his cock. As Hunter slowly moved his hand he watched as the thin bush of hair around the base of the cock began to thicken up. Thick hairs began sprouting up like weeds, dark and curly they wove together into a monstrous bush that kept expanding. The hairs crawled all across his groin, up onto his stomach, and out onto his thighs, the bush only growing denser as more hairs sprouted between old ones. Within minutes Hunter could smell Dean’s growing scent as sweat gathered in the thick bush. Dean groaned as his balls swelled in size and hung lower, the sack becoming engulfed in the same thick fur as it raced from his groin to his ass. His hole was quickly surrounded by dark wiry hairs that sprouted densely in his crack, before blossoming out across his tight ass in a dense fur.

Dean kept moaning from within Hunter’s hairy pit, letting more sweat down his throat. His body continued to grow, muscles popping out across his arms and legs and his frame steadily bulking up. He was even growing taller as a result, Hunter had to push him back against the bed to keep his face locked in. The more Hunter stroked Dean’s cock the more hair continued to spread across his body. His thigh’s already dense coating only grew darker and thicker before moving on to his calves and feet. His shoulders began growing their own coat with thick hairs popping out across the broad expanse, with his arms following suit. His forearms grew dark with a thick rug stretching onto the backs of his hands.

Hunter released Dean’s face before reaching down into his newly grown bush. He got his hand nice and damp before raising Dean’s arms, exposing his paltry amount of hair, and starting rubbing the groin sweat in. Within seconds he could feel his hand rubbing through more hair than before, as new thicker hairs started to shoot up. Dark wiry hairs exploded from Dean’s armpits, forming into a thick tuft of hair that stuck out in every direction, even connecting to the rug on his chest. Hunter grinned as he began to smell Dean’s own scent coming from the pits, growing stronger as more and more hairs pushed out. The hairs kept spreading, giving Dean the thickest forest of pit hair Hunter had ever seen. Dean’s sweat stuck in the jungle, giving it a ripe scent almost immediately. Hunter released Dean from his grip, and his instincts commanded him to sniff his own ripe pits. Dean groaned as he smelled the sweaty odorous pits, scratching his fingers through the thick fur.

Dean then went to stroking his massive cock that Hunter had been edging for a while now. He moaned as each pump coursed through his body, adding more muscle and fur to his frame. His beard pushed out more from his face, even his back began to grow coated with fur. The room was thick with the mixed scents of Hunter and Dean now, and every breath was intoxicating. His breaths grew ragged as he neared climax, and with a roar his cock erupted with the biggest load of Dean’s life. Blast after blast of thick cum shot out, landing all over his hairy body, with some even flying onto Hunter, who laughed. Dean’s cock continued to drizzle the last bits of his load as he collapsed onto his bed, soaked in sweat and cum stuck in his thick body hair. He slowly rubbed his hands across his massive body, feeling how much he’d grown. He’d become a giant to match Hunter, muscled, hairy, and incredibly sweaty and smelly. The stench of both their sweaty bodies was too much for almost anyone, but all Dean craved was more.

Thank you all for 1,000 followers! What an insane milestone. Hope you enjoy this one!

I know it sounds strange but lately I'm in this whole black muscle phase & I keep having fantasies of going from a skinny fit white guy and turning into a buff black guy. I'm also into being a bit of a slob so I keep thinking of having a bit of musk or bo and maybe being prone to belching it'd be so hot if you could turn me into a buff black guy who's a bit of a slob.

"I get it bro. You see those black muscle gods going to the gym and hulking out and you wish you could be one of them. The stench doesn't even bother you that much so you feel like you'd fit right in ! I get you and i'm here to help you realize your dream !"

You suddenly start feeling a soreness spread across you body and, as you look down, you realize that your muscles are growing. Slowly but surely, you can feel your body buff up into that of a true jock : thick meaty thighs, defined abs, prominent pecs, nice round shoulders and biceps. Your developing muscles nicely filled out your once baggy clothes.

Too busy admiring your bulking physique, you don't even realize that your light hair darkens quickly, first into a dirty blonde, then brown and eventually jet black. Your straight hair even starts curling up into a curly black hairstyle with a high fade.

Your changing ethnicity only becomes clear to you once your pale skin gradually tans into a darker tone, eventually leaving you with glorious brown skin. Even your facial features begin to shift into that of a man of unmistakable African descent; with a wide nose and thick lips. You're feel elated. This is exactly how you wanted to look.

You start caressing and fondling your sculpted body, admiring every inch of it. Your hand glides over your skin and you notice a slight dampness caused by a thin layer of sweat all over your body. You raise your arm to take a whiff inside your armpit and smell a faint musk emanating from it. This was the perfect body.

"Fuck yeah bro" you said, in a deep husky voice that surprised even yourself.

But the changes didn't stop there. Your skin darkened even more into a deep dark melanated tone fit for true nubian king. Your muscles continued to swell and bulk up, putting on pounds after pounds of thick meat. Each of your muscle groups differentiated into glorious bulging muscles. Your jock physique was gone, changing into that of an imposing professional bodybuilder.

But along with those physical changes, your body's physiology also rewired. You noticed right away that your new beefcake body produced a much stronger stench than earlier. You didn't even need to sniff your armpit to smell the pungent bo that was emanating from them, instantly hitting your senses and clouding your brain. That's when concern started to creep in.

This wasn't really what you wanted. What you wished for was to be buff and a bit of a slob, not a noxious stinking sweat machine. This was starting to be a bit too much, even for you. A sudden feeling of bloatedness grew inside your tight stomach. You tried to protest what was happening to you, but the only thing that escaped your mouth when you opened it was a loud putrid belch.

BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP

The room-shaking belch that just erupted from you kicked in the next phase of your transformation. A growing feeling of distress came over you as all of your glorious muscles bulged and ballooned. Your pecs got even heavier than they already were, thickening into a pair of juicy man boobs. You were now barely able to see past the bouncy meaty pectorals protruding from your chest.

All your other muscle groups followed suit, swelling up to absurd proportions and leaving you looking like a freakish tank. Your delts and biceps exploded in size, leaving your upper body looking like that of a disproportionate gorilla of a man. Your traps swole and bulged, making your neck look as thick as your head. Your butt expanded into a pair of jiggly globes. Your legs surged and became thick powerful tree trunks. Your once delicate feet enlarged into massive man feet that tore through your sneakers. Your tight clothes weren't spared either as your growing body shredded right through them.

You were swelling up like a beastly blow-up doll but, instead of filling up with air, your body filled with thick weighty beef. Your muscle's definition disappeared forever, merging together into thick slabs of meat. You now easily weighed over 300 pounds.

You were panting. The transformation was so intense that you were burning up, beads of sweat forming all over your skin. You breathed in and out, trying not to panic. How could i have done this to you ? This was never what you asked for. You never asked to become some caricature of a muscle-obsessed freak.

BUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRP

Your stomach grumbled loudly as another loud toxic belch erupted out of your mouth and, with it, one final change to your body. The belch seemed to go on forever and, with every second that passed, you felt your tight muscular abs distend and grow out into a prominent roid gut.

You refused to believe what you had become and you tried to suck your muscle gut in. But, no matter how hard you tried, it couldn't be hidden, exposing you as the roided out muscle beast that you were.

You tried to move but everything about your new body felt alien to you, incongruous. Your thick thighs rubbed and chaffed against each other. Your inflated pecs and bubble butt were visible through any piece of clothing you could possibly try. Your arm muscles were so blown up that you struggled to put on clothes or scratch your back. Your neck was so thick that you couldn't turn your head without turning your entire body. As you walked, you struggled to balance your immense bulk and your enormous feet made you move like a clumsy oaf.

Your new body was so big that any kind of physical effort made you exhausted. You burned so much energy that you needed to eat several hefty meals every day which made you feel bloated constantly. You were unable to go 5 minutes without letting out a room shaking masculine belch.

You were so sweaty that you looked like you had just gotten out of the shower at all time, not that you smelled like it. Your biochemistry was on perpetual overdrive, producing a constant stream of sweat that pooled at your feet wherever you went and engulfing you in a thick cloud of rank bo. No matter how many showers you took, you absolutely reeked at all time.

You tried to keep your former friends but they simply couldn't bear to spend any time with your new foul self. You tried to keep your job but your new condition made it impossible for your colleagues to work in your presence. You had nothing left, you were alone and distraught. This was too much ... too much muscle, too much bo .... You never wanted this...

The only place where you could possibly be accepted was the gym and, although normal people kept avoiding you there, you managed to make friends with other juiced up gymrats. Nobody wanted to be around you except them. Other reeking mindless gymrats were the only ones who could understand you now. You weren't a normal human anymore, you were a beast.

They didn't care about your constant sweat production or your inescapable aura of reeking bo or your nonstop belches. Your new bros accepted you as you were. They even encouraged you to not give a fuck, to go further and to just rip one out.

And so you gradually accepted your new place among them as a gym-brained roided out muscle bull. From now on, that was all you were good for.

"Damn bro, you reek."

A commission featuring Steve Rodfers and Bucky Barnes turning into Hulk versions of themselves.

“You know it's kind of crazy.” Bucky begins to say.

Steve pauses and turns around to look at his old friend. Bucky isn't looking at Steve. His gaze instead looks around the old S.H.I.E.L.D base that was in total disarray. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks him.

“Just how many of these secret S.H.I.E.L.D bases there must be out there.” He pauses, turning his focus to Steve now.

“Makes you wonder just what made them abandon them, and what secrets they left.” He finishes with.

“I know what you mean.” Steve sighs.

He crosses his arms over his chest. Thinking about the reason they were here in this abandoned base to begin with. Fury had instructed Steve to come here. He wouldn't elaborate on the full details as to why. Just that Steve was needed to destroy an old experiment that was being worked on when this was an active S.H.I.E.L.D base.

The Super Soldier did wonder though as he was briefed on this mission why the experiment wasn't dismantled before the base was abandoned to begin with. He has worked with Fury long enough to know he was likely not to get that much detail from the Head of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

He was also instructed to come alone on this mission. As well as to not tell the other Avengers about this. So Steve found no issue in bringing Bucky along with him. Since his oldest friend wasn't a part of the Avengers. So it wasn't like Steve was breaking any rules or orders. Steve preferred to have some company along with him. Even more so since he was given little information on what exactly this experiment they were to destroy was even of. 

The only other thing he was given information about other than the location of the base was that the experiment where it would be.  

‘Find a dark green door towards the end of the base.’ Was what Fury told him.

“Well, let's find this thing, destroy it and get the hell outta here.” Bucky says.

He moves past Steve, and the blonde man follows behind him. While they headed towards the back of the base, Steve kept looking around. The lab was a total mess. Papers, desks, cabinets, and so much more were all strewn around. It made him wonder why the S.H.I.E.L.D agents who were stationed here left. Or what made them leave he should say. Since it was clear something had happened here to cause such a mess of the place. 

Seeing the base like this also made Steve think why would Fury just now order someone to come here to destroy whatever this experiment was. He would have thought it would be a priority for S.H.I.E.L.D. From what Steve can tell this base looks to have been abandoned for a couple years now. 

“Hey, I'm guessing that is the door we are looking for?” Bucky asks.

Steve turns his attention towards them. Down the hallway of the room they had just entered was a double set of green doors. Steve and Bucky cautiously approach the double doors. The two super soldier's stop just in front of the doors. Steve glances to his left to see a security keypad. 

“Fury didn't mention anything about.” He is interrupted by the sound of metal being smashed. Quickly turning to see Bucky using his vibranium arm to tear one of the doors off its hinges. 

“Smooth.” Steve says to him.

Bucky just smirks, setting the broken door to the side. 

“After you Captain.” Bucky says in a playful tone.

Steve just rolls his eyes, but smiles as he walks by Bucky to enter inside the room. Steve and Bucky walk a few feet inside the dimly lit room when the lights come on. With the room being more bright now it allows the two men to see just what was kept inside the locked room. 

At first glance it looked like an ordinary lab. But what was eye-catching was the device stationed in the center of the lab. It looked like a ray gun, one like you would see in a sci-fi movie. The ray gun was attached to a strange looking cube that was completely sealed up by some strange looking metal. 

“What the hell is that thing?” Bucky asks.

“And what were they going to use it for?” Steve adds.

“Maybe we should look around first to see if we can't find out any information on what this thing is.” Steve suggests.

“Fine.” Bucky sighs.

They then split up to search around the lab. Careful as to not get near the strange device they were sent there to destroy. Steve goes through a few papers on a nearby desk. Scanning over them and at first he doesn't find anything that's helpful in telling him what this device is. It was a couple moments later when Bucky was calling Steve's name.

Steve moves over to the side of the lab where Bucky had moved to.

“Take a look at this.” He says to him, handing Steve a beige file.

“Project Gamma.” Steve reads.

“It would seem S.H.I.E.L.D was doing some testing with gamma radiation.” Bucky says.

The file didn't say a whole lot about why these S.H.I.E.L.D scientists were using gamma radiation. Just the device was built to use it in some way. The rest of the documents were either torn, smudged, or seemed like pages were missing from them.

“Were they trying to find a way to handle the Hulk?” Steve wonders out loud.

It would make sense since he supposes. S.H.I.E.L.D did have some options in place to deploy in case Banner lost control of his Hulk side and went on a rampage. But a device that used gamma power? Would that even do anything to hinder Hulk?

“That, or they wanted a way to make more Hulks.” Bucky tells him.

Steve would argue about that, but then he thought that it could be an option. It would explain why Fury was secretive on this mission. As well as why he didn't want Steve to tell the other Avengers about it. Steve just hoped that wasn't the goal with this Project Gamma. Because if S.H.I.E.L.D was trying to create more Hulks, then Fury would be getting an earful from him.

“How the hell are we supposed to destroy a contraption that uses gamma energy anyways?” Bucky asks.

“Well, we will have to figure it out as we go I guess.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose.

This was proving to be rather annoying. More so than he thought it would. It would have been nice if Fury told him about this. That way he could have been thinking of some sort of plan. Now here he and Bucky were in a room with a dangerous invention that S.H.I.E.L.D had no business cresting in the first place. 

“Maybe we could look around some more.” Steve suggests.

“The computers still seem like they would work. Maybe we can access the system and learn a way to dismantle it.” He adds.

“Okay, but neither of us are Stark levels of intelligent Steve.” Bucky says.

“So are you sure we can even hack into an advanced computer system set up by S.H.I.E.L.D?” He finishes with.

“Well, one way to find out.” Steve tells him.

It was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes this time. The two Super Soldiers carefully got to work trying to gain access to the computers. After several attempts of them getting nowhere Bucky's frustrations started to get the best of him. The Winter Soldier ended up pressing the wrong keys into the computer. Moments later the device in front of them started to make noises.

“What did you do?!” Steve asks, getting up from the chair he was sitting in.

“I don't know!” Bucky tells him. 

“I knew we shouldn't have been messing with this crap!” he then exclaims. 

The device begins to make whirring noises as it boots up. A green ring of lights started to flicker on the machine. The blaster’ nozzle begins to flicker green before it stays a solid bright emerald shade of green. 

“We need to go.” Steve starts.

“Now!” He yells.

Only it was too late. The device seemed to hone in on the two men. Before either of them could move to escape the lab. A dark green beam of pure gamma energy launches from the device’s blaster. Steve and Bucky stagger backwards, both men making loud noises as they shout. The device continues to release the gamma beam that has enveloped Steve and Bucky. 

Both men fell to their knees, their shouts echoing through the lab. The device begins to slow. The energy beam it was firing at them begins to flicker before the machine cuts off. Having expelled so much energy the machine starts to break, pieces of it clattering to the floor. Steve and Bucky were too preoccupied to notice this. The two men shared looks of exhaustion with each other.

“Need…to…call…backup.” Steve manages to say to Bucky.

“Can't…focus.” Bucky grunts.

“Hard to…Urggggh!” He then yells.

Bucky felt like his insides were burning, his muscles felt tense and sore. Making it hard for him to move. He clenched his fists, this weird feeling of pure rage began to bubble up within him. Bucky's arms tighten, veins bulging against his pale skin. The veins start to get bigger as they pulsate. Bucky's pale skin starts to gain this gray-green hue to it. 

“S-steve.” Bucky grunts.

His voice sounded deeper, he hunched over, his back starting to expand. Pushing outwards as it grew wider. Stretching his shirt out to the point it started to tear apart in certain places. Bucky straightened up, tossing his head back to release a silent yell. His eyes turn a dark shade of green. The veins continue to appear and pulsate along his expanding body. His neck thickens up, head growing larger. His jaw shifts with his growth. Becoming more square in shape. His eyebrows get thicker while his nose becomes larger. Bucky's hands triple in size. The growth traversing up his arms to his biceps. His chest balloons outwards drastically. His pecs grow to he huge, to the point what little bit of his shirt that still hung onto Bucky's expanded frame fell to the floor in a discarded pile. 

Bucky got to his feet, stumbling on his legs. He knocks into stuff in the lab. Making a mess as he stumbles and topples over. He releases deep frustrated growls, his feet ache in his shrinking shoes. It wasn't long before his shoes tore part to reveal his massive feet. The growth then snaked up his legs. Not only was Bucky growing taller, his legs became overly thick with pure muscle that he was gaining. 

Bucky's mind fell into turmoil. It became so hard to think. His large hands clenched his head as he started to grunt deeply to himself. His head spun, his thoughts becoming more simplistic. Finally the confusion and fear Bucky felt subsided. Now the Winter Soldier felt was power.

Beside Bucky Steve tried to do something. He staggered away from his best friend. Desperate to keep his composure. But the gamma ray he was hit by was making his body scream and pulsate with this strange sensation.

“Got…to…get…FURY!” He says Fury’s name in an angry roar.

Frustration shattered the composure he was desperately trying to keep. He couldn't help feel so angry at Fury. It was because of him that Steve and Bucky where in this situation. Because S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't help themselves by messing with something they shouldn't have been. 

Steve could admit he was afraid. Never had he felt such rage like this before. It was so overwhelming, and it made him sympathetic towards Banner. Having no idea this was the sort of anger his friend must always feel dwelling within him. Steve tries to take a few deep breaths, only for his fists to clench. He tries to then channel his anger into them. Punching the floor, every punch his fist expands, this pale skin turning a shade of green that was so dark it almost looked blue.

A small crate forms where Steve had kept hitting the floor. His fist was massive compared to the rest of him. He stared at his huge fist, wide eyed. It looked like he was wearing one of those foam Hulk hand toys he would see youths wearing. His still normal sized arm started to have bulging veins traversing up it. He grunts, watching his arm slowly expand inside to be proportionate with his enlarged sized hand. 

When the growth reaches Steve's biceps he makes a face. Feeling how his growing biceps constricted around his too small shirt sleeve. The sound of fabric shredding echoes in his ears. Looking to see how his entire arm was so much larger compared to the rest of him. He had to focus to keep focus to keep it lifted up and not topple over because of it. 

His annoyance and anger only blossomed from there. The rage within him overtaking the level headed man. Steve roared, the more he did his neck expanded, thick green veins throbbing against his bull sized neck. Steve's torso barreled outwards drastically. Causing his shirt to fully shred apart like a cheap paper bag. Leaving his bare chest to see his expanded muscular physique he was gaining. 

His pecs ballooned outwards with the bulk Steve was gaining still. Steve's normal sized arm immediately grows to the size of his other arm. He couldn't help flexing them, staring at his overly muscular arms with a weird fascination. His dick stirred in his pants. His pants begin to tighten around his expanding thighs. Tears formed along the seams of them, exposing his dark green legs through the tears.

Steve shakes his head, snapping himself from the daze he was falling into. He tries to ignore his growing arousal. Though it was becoming hard since it was a nice feeling compared to the pure engagement he was only feeling just moments prior. 

Steve held his head in his hands. Trying to regain his composure. He didn't want to be distracted by this growing lust or anger. He wanted this to stop. His head pounded, growing larger with his features shifting slightly. His well groomed hair becomes messy thanks to his hands running through them. 

He stomps his foot, the gesture causes it to enlarge even further than it had so far. So much so, Steve’s steel toed boots he was wearing shred apart like they were made of cheap material. His enlarged dark green foot shifts on his torn apart boot. The growth expanded even further up his legs. Fully tearing apart his pants leg.

His other leg quickly follows along, allowing Steve to stay upright without fumbling over. Continuing the  growth till it finally finishes tearing apart his pants so Steve was standing there, fully hulked out. 

Steve stands there, heaving, he takes a moment to look himself over. His mind dwindles down to be more simple minded thinking. That helped calm him from the stress he felt before as he was hulking out.  He becomes distracted by a deep noise beside him. Turning his attention towards the direction he sees Bucky watching him. Steve’s gaze looks over his oldest friend. Unable to help the way he becomes more aroused as he admires Buky’s Hulk self.

“Steve…think Bucky look good.” Steve grunts,

That earns him a wide smile from Bucky, he stomps close to him. Steve is moving to meet his friend. 

“Bucky think same for Steve.” Bucky says to him.

They two Hulk turned Super Soldiers just stare at one another for a moment. They both move at the same time, colliding into each other with their massive arms wrapping around the other. Steve and Bucky kiss each other with a strong intensity, their large hands moving and groping their partner's large form. Their moans are deep and echo through the lab. Neither of the two men focused on anything but the other. They stumble around, still in each other's embrace. Slamming into the walls, into desks, and anything that gets in their way.

“Steve want Bucky.” Steve grunts in his deeper low toned voice.

Bucky just grins widely, Steve feeling his friend's cock rubbing against him. It made Steve even more anticipated to be fucked by his sexy Hulkified friend. They share another kiss before Steve moves. He positions himself on all four, his thick muscular ass presented to Bucky. Steve smirks when he hears the low rumbling noise Bucky makes. Moaning when he then feels Bucky's large hands groping his ass cheeks.

“Bucky enjoy this.”

“Bucky smash Steve real good.” He friend says.

Steve feels Bucky's massive dick tease along his ass. Steve shudders, arching back a little. Even more so when Bucky slams his fat cock inside his tight hole. Steve releases a loud pleasing moan. His huge fists crumble the ground under him when he clenches his hands into fists. Bucky's hands are gripping his hips. Keeping Steve in place.

Steve's moaning bellows grow louder while Bucky's possessive grunts deepen. The sound of the two massive brutes fucking echoed throughout the abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D base. The impact of Bucky's thrusts even causes the glass and windows within the lab to crack. With some of them to even shatter with how intense his thrusts are becoming. 

“More! Give Steve more!” Steve bellows.

Steve had never felt pleasure like this before. He wanted more, no he needed more. He wanted Bucky to go over his limits and dominate him even further.

Bucky says nothing, his friend just makes a series of deep grunting moans. His movements quicken and he fucks Steve even harder than he was before. Steve relishes in the pleasure he feels by being fucked like this. He positions himself to keep himself upright with one hand. Steve's right hand moves and he grips his fat leaking cock. He then starts to jerks himself off while Bucky fucks him. Steve's grins as he opens his mouth, his tongue then sticks out his mouth as he starts to pant. A large wad of clear drool drips down from his tongue. Showing just how lost Steve has become in his arousal. It didn't take long for Steve to feel his fat balls churning, his orgasm building up.

“Fuck! Bucky cum!” Bucky growls. 

With one more heavy slam into Steve, Bucky unloads balls deep inside him. The sensation of feeling Bucky’s heavy load filling his ass pushes Steve over the edge. With a roaring moan, Steve’s cock sputters. Thick ropes of cum cascading from his fat dick head. Making a huge mess all over Steve’s overly muscular body, but as well as the floor under him. 

The two Hulkified Super Soldiers then topple over onto the ground. Bucky’s load leaking out of Steve’s wrecked ass once Bucky had finally pulled his dick out of Steve. The two Hulks lay there on the destroyed lab floor. They were exhausted, but both Hulks still felt incredibly horny for the other Hulk. Unable to keep their hands off each other as they prepare themselves for another round together. 

It's moments later when Steve untangled himself from Bucky, standing up over him. His cock was back to being fully erect as he looked down at his best friend.

“Steve smash Bucky now.” Steve grunts with a possessive smile.