LIKE OR REBLOG IF YOU WANT TO TURN INTO A SWEATY, BELCHING BODYBUILDER OVERNIGHT!

LIKE OR REBLOG IF YOU WANT TO TURN INTO A SWEATY, BELCHING BODYBUILDER OVERNIGHT!

Papi's Gear

Here's an older story that I have recently edited and cleaned up.

A hockey fan hopes to see his favourite player, Auston Matthews, but ends up getting closer than he could have imagined.

-

A crowd had already formed in the players tunnel underneath the Scotiabank Arena in downtown Toronto. The crowd buzzed excitedly, waiting for the arrival of the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team. I was anxiousing hopping from one foot to another, hoping to see my favourite player, Auston Matthews, walk by. Maybe I'd get to give him a fist bump before he jumped on the ice with the rest of the team. I tried to angle my way closer to the front of the crowd, to get a better view of the guys as they walked past. With some polite pushes, I was able to squeeze beside a wall next to the cordoned off section. 

A surge of energy swept through the gathered crowd as we caught a glimpse of blue and white coming down the tunnel. The team was on their way to the ice! One by one the players walked by. They looked so handsome and masculine in their royal blue jerseys. I held out my fist for the players to pound with their gloves, hoping to make a connection with someone. Frustratingly, I was too close to a wall, and not easily seen as they walked by, so nobody noticed my fist. I was able to get a good look at each player as they walked by. Their hockey equipment was bulky and broad, making their already impressive bodies seem even bigger. As the players walked by, I caught quick whiffs of their equipment and bodies, and swallowed their scent greedily. I looked for Auston, number 34, but didn’t see him anywhere. 

“Oh man. That sucks.” I said to myself. 

Auston Matthews was my favourite player and one of the best players in the NHL, so it was weird not seeing him come down the tunnel with the rest of the team. I hadn’t heard anything about him being injured… It was very unusual that he wasn’t in the team line-up tonight. His skill and speed was unmatched by any player in the NHL. I’d give anything to play like him. 

I was about to leave the tunnel and head to my seat when another surge of energy fired the crowd. 

“Auston!” Someone yelled. 

I turned, and sure enough, there he was: number 34. Auston Matthews. He was walking casually towards us but he wasn’t dressed in the Maple Leafs’ uniform. He was wearing a blue Leafs hoodie and black work-out shorts. A Maple Leafs cap was on his head, allowing his long greasy hair to be slicked back. Why wasn’t he dressed to play? 

I stretched out my fist for him to bump. He looked massive up close. His thigh and leg muscles were like tree trunks. His shoulders were built and angular with strong muscle. He looked robust, tough and incredible. 

“Auston!” I yelled, but deep down I knew he wasn’t going to fist bump me. I tried to get his attention my flashing the number 34 on my jersey. 

“Auston!” I yelled again. But he was already walking by me. Ignored. 

“Auston! Why aren’t you playing tonight? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Something I said must have clicked with him. He stopped and began to walk back towards me. I saw him scan the crowd, looking for the person that had yelled at him. The look on my face must have betrayed me because he walked towards me as soon as our eyes met. My fist was still stretched out, but instead of bumping it with his own fist, he gripped my entire hand with his own so that the palm of his hand was on my fist and knuckles. It felt warm and slightly sweaty. 

“I can’t find my equipment! Can you help me look for it? He said. 

I nodded. Anything for Auston Matthews! I turned and left the crowd. I didn’t know where to start looking, but I knew I had to start somewhere. 

As I left the tunnel and the crowd behind, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my stomach and a warm, itchy sensation all over my skin. I tried to ignore it, but was quickly overcome by discomfort and ducked into the nearest bathroom. The room was empty, with clean white floors and large mirrors on the wall. My entire body was hot and uncomfortable. I was wearing an old and stained Maple Leafs jersey, and tore it, tossing it to the ground. My other clothes followed almost; my skin was so hot and uncomfortable that I needed to remove anything that was touching it. 

I stood in the bathroom, naked, and breathing heavily. The heat and pain was dying down, and instead my skin was tingling. A wave of calm and euphoria went through my legs and arms.

Small blue dots began forming on my shoulders. They were small at first, but deepened into dimples evenly spaced on my skin. They quickly spread across, replacing my own natural pores and hair follicles and stopped just before my biceps. The skin on top of my shoulders and neck turned completely blue, and a white collar appeared from of my neck. A silver and black NHL shield popped into existence just above the white lace under my collar bone. The blue colour continued down my arms, and my skin stretched and reformed into a blue mesh-like material. A pair of white numbers formed at both of my biceps: 34. My skin seemed to shift and separate from my torso, it made me look bigger. Was I growing a jersey? 

The blue mesh continued down my arms, stopping at my wrist. Two white stripes formed just above and below my elbows, and wrapped around my arms. Another white stripe formed at my waist, wrapping all around my stomach and back. I saw my nipples stretch, flatten and disappear into blue fabric. All of my chest hair fell out. The skin on my chest also stretched and wove into blue meshy fabric: a lightweight Areolite fabric made by adidas. A length of white lace snaked its way in the middle of my chest. I felt an itch along the top of my back and twisted my body to see my behind in the mirror. Letters began forming along the top half of my back on my shoulders: MATTHEWS. Two huge numbers etched their way into my skin: 34. From this angle, I could see how my back had sort of billowed out from the rest of my body with some of the jersey material hanging below my butt.

A final detail appeared in the form of a large white Toronto Maple Leafs logo forming on my front. It looked like I was wearing a jersey; a jersey that was a little too big for me, but I knew I was the jersey. 

“Instead of helping Auston to look for his equipment, maybe I can be his equipment.” I thought to myself. 

Whatever had started this changed seemed to agree, as more changes continued. 

I felt my insides begin to twist and turn. My shoulder blades and collar bone melted and began reforming into shoulder pads. My shoulder caps grew bigger, enough to be able to protect Auston from body checks on the ice. I felt my rip cage crack and disappear, and my abdominal muscles and fat transitioned into velcro straps, protective foams and plastic. More bones cracked and transformed into other materials. It felt amazing to change from an organic being into plastic and artificial materials. The entire top half of my body ballooned and grew bigger; my previous frame was too slender and tight for Auston Matthews, he would need more comprehensive protection. The part of me that was a jersey began to fill out as the rest of my insides grew and shifted in order to fit better.

My elbows popped and disconnected from my arms. My bones fused into elbow pads: a two-piece system to protect Auston’s forearm and bicep. A soft cuff formed from my bicep muscle and arm bone and a hard cap solidified at my elbow and forearm. I used my hand to squish my new elbow: it was hollow but sturdy and protective. Elastic Velco straps formed from the muscle around my bicep and forearm. As my upper body changed fully into Auston’s equipment, I started to feel distinctly separate and different. I knew part of me was now a blue Maple Leafs sweater, another part of me were shoulder pads, and another part of me were elbow pads. I was rapidly becoming hockey equipment, and it felt good.

Glancing in the mirror, it looked like I was wearing Auston’s gear. My hands dangled from the wrists of the jersey. My bare, naked legs were holding up the top part of Auston’s gear, with my fully erect penis poking out from the bottom. 

“No,” I said to myself. I didn’t want to wear Auston’s gear: I wanted to be Auston’s gear. 

My hands began to enlarge; they were smaller than Auston’s hands and wouldn’t work at their current size if they were going to be his hockey gloves. Bones and muscle shifted and melted into more protective foams and plastic. My hands hollowed into hockey gloves. The tips of my fingers bubbled outwards and became more square-like. My joints became longer, enough to provide good dexterity for Auston’s own fingers. My skin turned blue and white. A large white cuff popped out of my wrist, ready to protect Auston’s wrist from slashes and pucks. The letters CCM appeared and wove out of my skin. The palm of my hands turned a pale white with a slight grippy texture in the middle. The material thinned out and stretched across the gloves. My hands were now hollow, empty hockey gloves.

At this point, I somehow ended up on the ground. I collapsed and fell backwards with a soft thud against the bathroom floor. I must have looked a slight: a human head buried in a Leafs jersey, shoulder pads and gloves. I loved it; it felt like I was returning home.  

My erect penis, glistening with pre-cum, suddenly deflated and flattened. It turned grey and hard and shaped into a bulbous domed cup. It completely detached from my crotch and became Auston’s athletic cup. I chuckled as I thought about Auston positioning what used to be my penis over top of his own penis and testicles. 

The bottom half changes happened almost simultaneously. My hips and thighs pushed outwards and became bigger and roomier. Everything inside deflated and disappeared, becoming yet more protective padding. I felt my pelvic bones shrink and twist as they turned into protective plastic caps. My butt cheeks dissolved and melted into nylon and foam. I couldn’t wait for Auston’s big hockey butt to slide around mine in his new hockey pants. My skin toughened and turned blue, the same shade as my torso. A single white stripe appeared on the sides of my legs as my pelvic region truly became Auston’s hockey pants. A second lace and adjustment strap popped out of my waist and crotch. Auston would use it to tighten the fit around his own waist. As my waist and pelvic area hollowed and emptied, Auston’s new athletic cup shifted and tumbled out of the pants, lying next to them on the ground.

The skin on my knees and shins turned the same blue as the rest of my body, and two more white stripes wrapped around my calves. My leg skin were hockey socks now. Under the socks, both of my knee caps disconnected from my legs and shifted into hard plastic domes. The rest of my muscle and sinew became high-density foam. Meanwhile, my shin bones cracked and groaned as they formed into rigid and ribbed plastic. My legs were now properly hockey shin guards and hockey pants. 

It was clear that I was no longer a man: I was hockey equipment. Lifting my head from the ground ever so slightly, I could still see but I couldn’t move my old body freely. Obviously hockey gear wasn’t supposed to move. I knew my changes weren’t complete, however. And even though I had stopped breathing when my chest turned into Auston's shoulder pads, my sense of smell was still working. I could weirdly feel the scent of sweat and Auston's body odour in the air; it was coming from me! I stunk to high heaven, and it was all Auston's sweat.

Another hardening sensation began on my ankle bone. Despite not being connected to my feet with blood and nerves, I was still able to feel the full transformation take place. The ankle bones flattened into the rest of my foot and smoothed away into black carbon fibre. My entire foot ballooned and thickened. Lace holes appeared on the top of my foot and travelled up to my ankle and filled with a white lace. My toes fused into a strong plastic cap. A V-shaped point dropped out of the bottom of my foot and formed into white plastic. Then a narrow steel blade transitioned out of the plastic holder. My skin turned black with a few silver and red graphics etched around. The letters CCM formed on the sides of both feet. I felt the rest of my bones melt and disappear as my foot hollowed into empty hockey skates. 

Almost done. I was so excited.

My scalp burned for a second as all of my hair dissolved and fell out. The skin on my head stretched and hardened into smooth blue plastic. Small holes and slits for ventilation dotted around the side of my skull and forehead. The insides melted and transitioned into more hard, high density foams. My chin separated and became a strap. My eyes and nose squished together and became curved and translucent. They relocated together to the top half of where my head used to be and became a visor attached to Auston’s new helmet. Inside my mouth, my bottom row of teeth and tongue liquified and disappeared. My top row of teeth turned soft and translucent, they flattened and hollowed out into a mouth guard. As the inside of my head was now empty and void, ready for Auston's own head to slip into, the mouth guard just flopped down to the inside of the helmet, ready for Auston to chew on between periods.

Finally, I was hockey equipment. I was Auston Matthews’ hockey equipment. I couldn’t think, feel or move anymore. It felt like a return to normal; like my old life was leading up to this moment, to be part of Auston’s body and to protect him while he played hockey in the NHL for the Toronto Maple Leafs. I was nothing but a pile of hockey equipment.

A door squeaked open and footsteps entered the room. 

“There it is!” Auston yelled. “Hey guys! I found my gear.”

He gathered up the gear from the floor and hurried out of the room. Go Leafs, go!

To just give in and let the change take you... Perfect.

More Than a Costume

It was supposed to be just a one-time gag. At least, that was what Jake told himself when he first bought the bodysuit. And maybe he did believe it at first. He’d buy the bodysuit, wear it, and show up at his friend’s costume party for cheap laughs. Jake was certainly the talk of the party when he showed up with an all-new identity. After all, who could’ve expected that the lanky white guy would come looking like a genuine Latino with tattoos and a goatee? The bodysuit was so realistic that people didn’t believe him when he said he was actually just Jake wearing a costume. It even earned him 1st place in the costume contest, too!

Once the costume party was over, Jake didn’t know what to do with the bodysuit. He couldn’t return it now that it was used, and after spending $100 on it, Jake didn’t feel right about just throwing it out after only wearing it once. So he decided it would just remain hanging at the back of his closet until the occasion called for it. But as time passed, Jake found himself wanting to wear it again. No matter what he did, his mind wandered back to the Latino bodysuit. It was almost like it was subliminally calling out for him, begging him to wear it again. Jake tried to resist its call, but then he gave into the temptation one night. 

Jake took out the bodysuit from the depths of his closet and held it in his hands. The rubbery suit felt cool against his fingertips. When he first bought the suit, Jake was shocked by how lifelike the synthetic skin looked and felt. Even after some time, he was still thoroughly impressed by it. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jake zipped down the zipper on the back of the bodysuit and stretched the opening wide. Jake stuck his leg down the leg of the costume then did the same with the other as he began to pull up the suit to his waist. The sensation of his flaccid dick slipping into the bodysuit’s much girthier cock made goosebumps run up his spine as the cold, rubbery skin touched and wrapped around his warm groin. A shivering moan escaped Jake’s lips as his junked settled into the bodysuit like a snug jockstrap cup. 

Jake was much skinnier than the bodysuit, making for a loose fit as he continued putting it on. He stuck his arms into the sleeves of the bodysuit. His thin fingers slipped into the suit’s burly hands. He brought the suit up to his shoulders, then threw the head of the costume over his face like a helmet. Jake bounced around with glee once he had the suit completely on. The suit hung loosely over his face, chest, and other spots around his body like baggy clothes. Although it was clearly much too big for his small body frame, Jake wasn’t worried. All it took was a few minutes for his body heat to “activate” the bodysuit and bring it to life. He took a deep breath as he felt the oversized bodysuit shift and adjust to his size until it was a perfect fit. What was once a cold, lifeless suit made out of synthetic skin transformed into a living, breathing person like any other once Jake put it on. So long as he kept his lips shut, nobody would ever be able to tell there was a white man controlling this synthetic Latino body. 

“Mmm… ¡mi nuevo cuerpo se siente magnífico!” Jake purred as he ran his forefinger through his scruffy facial. He massaged his neck as he spoke with his new, thick Puerto Rican accent. As someone with a relatively high-pitched voice and couldn’t grow anything beyond peach fuzz, Jake was jealous of other men who had the masculine features he always found attractive. 

He took a look at his handsome new face in the mirror and winked at himself. Jake felt right at home in his new skin and identity. As he donned the multiple piercings that came with his purchase before heading out for a night of fun as Rodrigo, Jake had no idea what putting on the bodysuit for a second time would do to his psyche. Bodysuits were addicting to wear. They made every physical sensation stronger, including and especially pleasure. That was a lesson that Jake would have to learn the hard way as he continued living as Rodrigo for days on end, refusing to take it off as he had fully convinced himself that he was always a Latino man and not some rubber bodysuit.

Yo bro, can you change me into a fuckboy too as wanna see what it like to be one please

Hey bro. You've come to the right guy to show you what you can achieve. The appeal is sexy, right? To be a fucking ruthless fuckboy. The idea latches on and doesn't let go. There's so many decent boys out there whose dicks harden at the idea of letting arrogance rule them. To be a living vice. Cocky, proud, selfish, and forever indulging in your own pleasure. It feels awesome to give into that fantasy. I should know for one.

I bet a guy like you is already ripped to shreds. You've packed on huge fucking muscles, and now you've realized they need admiring. Even though you don't actually need any smarts (since your subs will give you whatever you want to let you live like a king), you can't just be a drooling brainless meathead gymbro if you want to grow your fuckboy empire. You need to redirect your focus to your conquests. You are sly, cocky, and calculating. Your cock and your brain act in tandem. While perhaps they were at odds before, they have a singular goal now. To turn you into the center of the world, to let everything fall into your orbit, and to have you enjoy the worship you fucking deserve.

As a fuckboy, you have to wield your aloofness as a weapon. People are going to want you. Your body, your brooding muscles, your fucking god dick. You've got leverage. You can't make it easy on them. Time to get what you want, fuckboy.

You let them glorify you, let them worship you, let them fall to their knees, and let them compete over you. The key word is 'let'. Your power play is subtle. They'll believe it's all their idea if you want them to believe so. Of course, you can also take whatever the fuck you want, break a fag's resistance, tease them, cuck them, fuck them, treat them like a hole to dump your load into, take their hard-earned cash for you to spend on a night out, and admire yourself in the mirror while they lick your balls.

That's how the fuckboy in you grows, how the self-glorification runs its course. You deserve this, obviously. It's funny how being a toxic asshole enthralls so many boys. Don't be surprised when they fall in love with you. You can toy with them, act like a lovable doofus or a nice guy until you're balls deep again. Pushing their head down, spanking their ass, and growling how you own the fuck out of them while you rut and breed. Anything to get your dick wet, you know.

You can see the eternal dependence in their eyes when you leave with a load dripping from their hole. You leave your conquests with regrets, how could they let themselves be used like that? But already they want more of you. I bet you can't even be bothered to remember their name, though. You ghost them until they come begging to taste your god cock again. They get in line alongside every other useless slave you have.

You see how being a fuckboy consists of playing mind games. It's effortless to fuck with someone's head and make their hole throb. It's just a game to you. You do it with a sly smile and the flex of your arm, subtle gestures and single-worded commands. At the end of the day you're in control, fuckboy. You just do what makes you shoot the most ropes, all the while making use of the tools as your disposal, the tools that are currently begging to lick your seed off the floor.

-Firefighter Revolution-

When i was a kid, i dreamt to become a firefighter. It’s because i like to see hunks coming out from the place when fire happens. Now i’ve graduated from my school and i decided to become a firefighter. But it wasn’t what i’ve expected.

Now that i work here, i got bullied by them many times. It’s because i’m young and inexperienced. They kept teasing me to stay inside even when fire happens. They take all the glory of being a saviour in the time of need. Me? Stuck up in a prison where i once wanted to be.

It was a horrible experience until i met a young scientist who was an alumni from the same university i was. I was amazed how he get hunk in a very short time. Last time i graduate last year, he was so slim. Now he looked like as if he had worked out for years.

I told him my problems, and he sympathizes. He game something, a serum. He told me that he had work on improvements on his grand creation since his days at campus. It was a serum to absorb anyone you want after you touch the person. It sounds so silly to me, but looking at his body which change almost instantly, there might be some merit to trust him.

Back to the firefighting base, those “bullies” welcomed me with boners in their jeans. They wanted some pleasure after tiring work. Like usual, hordes of oral sex. One of them locked the door out to make sure i don’t run away.

They treat me like a pig forced to eat an apple. This one, they forced their manhood into my mouth. I got used to this for a year. They humiliated me, and threatened me if i told anyone about this (which i already did). Moans of pleasure echoed the room. I just sit there giving oral to each and every manhood they give. Taking turns, they jack off when i’m not giving oral sex.

That’s it, I’m GOING TO DO IT.

I stood up against them, they were enraged by my own rebellion. I ran to my room where the serum was. And quickly injected it to myself.

I felt wierd, like my body heated up so fast. Adrenaline rushes to my entire body, confidence suddenly struck my mind. It’s time to absorb them.

The biggest bully who had the key punched me in my stomach, tried to render myself unconscious. But i felt no pain.

He panicked when he realized his hand stuck on my abdomen. I really do absorbing him..!

“Wh… what is this…?!?! LET GO!” He tried so hard to pull his hand but no avail. He tried to punch with his other hand, but it also sunk.

Checkmate.

I put my arms on his head, and forced him to be absorbed to myself.

“No… NOOOOO!!!!” He screamed in agony.

“Yes.. YESSS!!!! YOU’RE MINE!!!!” I moaned loudly in pleasure, his head sinking to my abdomen. It feels… IT FEELS F**KING AMAZING…!!! I.. I’ve never felt anything like this before!!!

The others looked at us in horror, they scramble in the room tried to run away. But the key was with the person i was absorbing. I pick it up and taunt them.

“You want it?! COME AND GET IT!!”

While my body tried to absorb, i ran to the other guy and tackle him. Intentionally absorbing him. I caught all four of them.

“Oh god… GOD… I’m so enjoying this..!! ALL MINE..! I’M TAKING ALL OF THEM!!”

My body literally absorbing 4 hunks at the same time. One on my abdomen, on my back, my quads, and my ass. My body convulses so hard. I stood inf front of the mirror. I was suprised seeing a monster in a classic movie “The Thing”. Ironically, that’s me.. but i don’t mind. Nobody sees me doing this as i’m enjoying it.

It took minutes for all of them simultaneously sunk to my self. And it’s finally done. No more trace of them on my body. I can feel their cells swimming inside my own.

“Ah… AAAAAAGHHHH!!!”

I tried so hard to stand up as my legs were shaking so hard. Every inch of my muscles were convulsing so hard. Veins grow, covering my entire body.

My chest grew hairy as my pectoral muscles grow like baloons. My biceps grows bigger and bigger in seconds. I flexed my arms as my abs suddenly become visible. My quads and glutes lengthens in bone density and thickens in muscle cells. My backbone grows longer as i grew taller than before.

“Yeah… YEAHH!!!” I was so awed looking at myself growing into a perfect hunk.

I realized a strange tingling on my pants, as i ripped them open with my newfound muscles.

Oh GODS! My dick, it grows longer and thicker in inches… It’s getting red and veiny, standing hard like steel and angry. I jack myself off so hard, although my entire muscles still growing. My erection still grow longer and manlier as i jerked it off. The pleasure was so over my head as i can feel it close.

“F*CK YESS!!!” My manhood blows a huge load of cum. It.. it just keep cumming! My balls were growing bigger, paradoxically making refilling the man juice inside. I kept spurting man milk as my manhood STILL GROWING bigger, more veiny, and manlier.

Finally, my growth stops. I looked around as i know i created such a mess. I realized i have all their memories from where they born until now. I can search my memory of anything about them. Not only that, i felt like i’m a professional firefighter! I’m a 7′6″ tall man, i own muscles weigh over 172 KG. My manhood? it’s 17″ length and 6″ girth

Now, i’m a kind professional firefighter who truly helps people for their sake, not for personal glory. I recruited new firefighters and teach them nicely. I also build a gym inside the base camp for newbies to improve themselves. I truly wanted to revolutionize the firefighter.

Thanks to that guy with the serum, now i’m a man of my long life dream. But my story didn’t end there..

snap

Welcome to my Changing Room. You look confused. What do you mean you forgot that you asked me to change you into a southern guy with no worries in his pretty little head. You definitely asked me, and I definitely didn't delete your request by accident.

Let me make it up to you. Put these jeans on and let me squeeze your butt. Not enough to squeeze, I'm afraid! Feel it expand and grow? That's so much better. You're filling out those pants now. It's gonna make guys and girls want to bury their noses in your tight ass.

That shirt you're wearing is no good! No more sleeves for you, partner. We want to show off your guns, and these sick tattoos you have. Oops, sorry. I forgot, they sting a little bit as I put them on you. You've got some Texas barbed wire going around your bicep. It'll make you look so fucking douchey. How about an AR15 on your forearm? You're big into 1A now. You're such a fucking prick.

I'll finish you off with a proper cowboy hat and a goatee. You look hot man. Us city slickers move way too fast for you. You're a slower kind of person — simple folk. Not a care in the world, and that's how you like it.