The Face Changes Over Time. But That's Not The Point.

The face changes over time. But that's not the point.

Man of My Dreams

There he is again. The man of my dreams. Literally. Ever since I crossed path with him in that oriental market last month and I knocked over some kind of “magical dream dust” in the stand we passed by, accidentally inhaling a shit load of it, I’ve been seeing him in my dreams every night. And it’s always the same scenario: We’re in the oriental market, I see him a few feet away, I get completely mesmerized by his handsome face and massive muscles, and it’s not until he’s right in front of me that I realize we’re about to collide so I jump to the side to avoid him… crashing straight into the stand. He just stands there and sneer at me like I’m some pathetic insect before walking along. I hate it… yet god does he look hot walking away from me like that…

Anyways, the first few nights I just let it happen as it actually happened. Walk, crash, stare. Walk, crash, stare. However, by the fifth night I had had enough of his condescending looks and mustered the courage to yell back at him; telling him not to look at me that way and ask him how he would feel if he was the one in this humiliating position. Suddenly, like a switch had been pushed, his smug grin disappeared and he turned around and walked away. Thinking nothing more of it, I paid the shop owner, cleaned up after me and woke up soon after.

The night after though, much to my surprise, just as I was about to jump to the side he instead flung himself against the table of dusts in my place. Albeit confused and shocked, I decided to help him up… only to have him swat my hand away. “Fuck you…” He said, as I saw humiliation in his eyes. He picked himself up and walked away, not even paying for the damage he had caused.

“Show some gratitude next time, will ya!” I shouted at him as he disappeared among the crowd of people. And surely enough, the next night he actually let me help him up (though I almost fell over myself) and thanked me for my help. That’s when I realized I somehow had control over this hunk in my dream. I spent the next occurring nights testing my theory: I had him clean up and pay for the damage. Be friendlier and kinder. Take off his pants… so I could wash them for him.

However, it wasn’t until I had us exchange numbers in the dream and he suddenly called me during my working hours in broad daylight that I realized it was more than just a silly dreams. Somehow what happened in the recurring dream affected reality too! I had him completely under my grasp!

Soon enough I created scenarios where I had him fall head over heels with me, ask me to become his boyfriend, and even going as far as to invite me into his apartment where I fucked the brains out of him and his muscular tight ass. Imagine the bliss I was in when I woke up in the morning to find him sleeping in the bed next to me. I would play with his huge muscles, smell his musky odor and give his bristled face a kiss as I snuggled closer.

Yet… something was gnawing at me - a thought I couldn’t get out of my head. Anything is possible in a dream… wouldn’t that mean that I could… no, I couldn’t… could I?

“Only one way to find out…” I thought to myself before closing my eyes and trying to fall asleep again….

……

….

…

There he is again. The man of my dreams. Walking towards me just as tall and sexy as always. I quickened my steps so I could catch up to him before the collision by the stand. He was gloating at some hot babe walking past him instead of looking forward, which was probably the reason we were in this predicament to begin with. No matter, it made it much easier for me to test out my theory.

Walking briskly towards him, I thought back to the few short days I had spent together with him. Sure, having him as my boyfriend had been lovely, but somewhere deep inside of me I knew it wasn’t what I really yearned for. No, I didn’t want to be with him… I desired to BE him.

So, as I kept ramping up speed my mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: his amazingly muscular body. I focused, I imagined, I wished with all my might to be inside of it. And this time, instead of jumping to the side or colliding with him, I felt myself somehow disappear right into him. I found my vision shift and my balance shift a bit; as I now walked towards the opposite direction! Sure enough, looking down I found myself so much taller, stronger and… perfect. Feeling around, I fondled my enormous bulge and caressed my firm chest. With a smug grin on my new handsome face I kept walking, absorbing the stares of everyone around me and waiting for this wonderful dream to end…

……

….

…

I woke up to the warm sunlight shining in my eyes and the memories of a very wonderful dream. The cool air blew against my naked skin and I found myself alone in a very familiar bed. I only had to look down to see a body covered with strong muscles and a morning wood so hard it was almost painful. So I grabbed it with my callused hands and tugged at it so fiercely till I screamed and spewed all over my chest and boyishly beautiful face. As I scooped every last drop of my man seed into my mouth a tickling sensation entered my nose. “ACHOOO!” I found myself sneezing loudly as blue dust escaped my nose and scattered across the sheets and my sweaty glistening chest. “Guess that means no more dreams… not that I need those anymore.” I thought to myself as I pushed myself up and stared at the mirror across the bedroom.

“Oh. There he is again.” I said proudly with my gruff voice. A smug grin on the most handsome face I’ve ever seen. “The man of my dreams… me.”

Fix you a little bit

🇬🇧 ("Una sistemata" Versione Inglese)

When that boy arrived at my house, I immediately realized that he was way out of my league. He was young, blond and beautiful. I had convinced him to come to my place to have sex with surprising ease. I didn't even know his name, but within minutes we were both in our underwear and ready to pounce on each other. "First, I need to fix you a little bit  " he said with a smirk on his lips. 

I didn't have time to ask questions or investigate further. The boy held out his arm towards me and suddenly I was overcome by an ecstatic feeling. I felt every fiber of my body relax and shake, as if I were immersed in a bubbling hot tub. My body felt heavy and still; even if I had had a shred of willpower or self-control, I probably wouldn't have been able to move. 

Without realizing it, My appearance began to change according to that boy's will: I became more muscular, taller, older. When I reached my final form, I started moving again according to my will, but I understood that my only purpose was to satisfy that boy. I felt grateful to have been shaped that way. Now I was a living wet dream, his wet dream.

Magic Mustache - Chapter 2

A story commissioned by @beardobession. Read chapter 1 here to learn who these two handsome gentlemen are:

Cam saw Duke at the gym the next day, too. This wasn’t a coincidence. Duke was obviously an avid gymgoer. The way his pecs strained against his T-shirts told Cam that. If he was that disciplined with his body, Cam assumed that he was just as disciplined with his schedule, and he was proven right. The original plan was to show up at the exact time that Duke did, and “run into” him in the lobby. But Cam had been full of pent-up energy all morning and ended up going to the gym an hour early. He was on the weight bench when Duke finally walked in and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He decided to play it cool and finish his set before approaching, but a shadow fell over his eyes. Duke was standing over him, smiling, his beard freshly trimmed and looking oh-so sharp. “It’s Cam, right?”

Cam re-racked the barbell. “Yeah, it is! …How did you know my name?”

Duke’s face twitched. Cam couldn’t see beyond his thick beard (nor did he want to), but he could have sworn he saw a sliver of a blush on Duke’s upper cheeks.

“I… The guy at the counter told me. You’re new here, aren’t you? Do you need a spotter? I’d be happy to work out with you.”

“I actually do! I wanted to lift more than this, but was worried I might hurt myself. Thanks, Duke!”

Duke smiled. As he got set up, he leaned in close to Cam and murmured, “I wasn’t kidding about the mustache yesterday, dude, it looks dope.”

Cam wished he had a beard to hide his own blush. Hell, he wished he had a beard in general. But he breathed an internal sigh of relief at the compliment. That morning, he had been faced with a dilemma. When he woke up, another miracle had happened. He figured the Magic Mustache’s magic would extend only to his mustache. That felt natural, he’d thought, before realizing there was nothing natural about this situation in the first place. But when he woke up, with morning wood straining against his boxers, he felt the unmistakable scrape of stubble on his chin and cheeks.

After jerking off once (OK, twice), he had decided to shave everything but the mustache. At least for today. It was rough going, as the stubble felt even thicker than when he had woken up just an hour ago, but he wanted to highlight the growth that Duke had liked, in order to see if he caught his eye again. He didn’t know how well his plan would work!

———

After a successful workout with Duke (at one point a drop of sweat had slid down Duke’s cheek and through his thick beard, plopping onto Cam’s lower thigh - he had to pretend he suddenly needed to stretch so he could wait for his boner to go away), Cam was in the locker room shrugging on a shirt when the other man emerged from a shower stall, wrapped in a towel. “Do you wanna grab a smoothie?” Duke asked.

Cam was awestruck by the sight of his bulging chest and toned abs, all covered in a dense layer of brown hair. He admired the flowering vine tattoo that snaked up the side of Duke’s firm stomach, trailing down to his hip where it vanished behind the white cotton. He wanted to see how far down it went. He… hadn’t been listening.

He snapped his dropped jaw shut and looked at Duke, summoning his most innocent expression. “What was that?”

Duke chuckled. “Let’s get a smoothie. My treat.” He threw on his clothes (the vine went all the way down his upper thigh, Cam was glad to report) and the pair headed out.

As they walked along the street, Cam lingered in front of the cigar store, staring lovingly at their wares.

“You into cigars?” asked Duke. “I partake only every once in a while, gotta keep my body clean, you know? But I can buy us a couple if you want to try them out?”

Cam could hardly believe his luck. “Y-yes, that would be great, man! Thank you! I’ll pay you back.”

Later, they strolled toward Duke’s apartment, which backed up to an alley. When they entered the alley, the cigars bulging in Duke’s back pocket, Cam made him laugh so hard that smoothie shot out of his straw and all over his front. Panicked, Cam rummaged through his shiny new gym bag (purchased yesterday once he realized he’d be going more often) for the Tide Pen he always kept handy.

“Sorry, sorry!” He leaned closer to inspect the damage, not realizing that Duke had already bent over, and their faces were now just inches apart.

Cam laughed nervously. The smell of fresh strawberries overpowered him. “There’s smoothie in your beard.”

Duke didn’t move. “Do you want a taste?”

Cam couldn’t speak. All he could muster was a nod. Then his mouth was engulfed in Duke’s, his tongue already exploring, teasing his lips open. Cam had kissed guys before. He’d felt those fireworks before. But this was something else. The internal fireworks were bright, and that felt familiar. But this was the first time he also felt the sonic boom of their explosions spread across his skin. Duke’s beard prickled against the bare skin of his chin, his mustache cushioned by Cam’s own, the strands intermingling and dancing across one another, sending tingling jolts of electricity straight through Cam’s body to his dick. He grabbed the back of Duke’s head and let the man’s tongue roll across his own, his boner stiffening and rebelling against his loose gym shorts.

As they kissed, Cam’s face began to tingle more and more. He thought this was the result of beard rash, something he’d read about and definitely wanted to experience someday. But when Duke put a gentle hand on his cheek, it rasped against stubble. His stubble was back! After just a few hours! Fuck yeah, he wasn’t gonna have any choice but to grow a beard. Cam’s boner twitched and pre-cum began to stain the front of his boxers.

In that moment, he realized something. Experimentally, he grabbed Duke’s other hand and placed it on his crotch. Duke obliged him and began to rub his hard dick, the silky texture of his boxers slipping and sliding over his shaft. Cam took both of his hands and began to run them through Duke’s beard while they kissed, enjoying the way the hair, still damp from the shower and smelling sweetly of strawberries, slid across his skin like a paintbrush.

With his right hand still half on Duke’s cheek, he reached out his thumb and touched his own cheek. With a tingle of pleasure, he realized that his stubble was indeed thickening. In fact, it couldn’t even be called stubble anymore. It was a short beard that was becoming incrementally longer, millimeter by millimeter, the hairs slightly curling as they reached greater and greater lengths.

Duke pulled back and started, staring at Cam’s face. “Cam, your beard. Do you know-“

“I know,” Cam interrupted him. “I’ve found it’s best to go with the flow on this. Please don’t worry about me, I’m loving it.”

Duke shrugged. “If you say so. Wanna come upstairs?”

Cam considered what he’d just found out. The more turned on he was, the more he thought about facial hair when he was turned on, the more his own would grow. “Fuck yeah,” he said.

Duke and Cam didn’t have full-on sex, but Cam was having enough new experiences for one day anyway. But Duke did blow him, and Cam was secretly glad that he had offered. He bunched his growing beard in one hand (it was long enough to bunch - the strands were now softening with length, becoming less like a Brillo pad and more like a field of grass, tickling his fingers as he moved) while he felt up Duke’s own beard with the other. The hairs around Duke’s lips thrilled against the skin of his cock, and he felt like he was a machine gun of precum spraying endlessly into Duke’s willing mouth.

When Duke reached up a hand to touch Cam’s chest, he paused for a moment, glancing upward, before returning to his work. Fuck! Cam hadn’t even noticed! The same pinpricks of stubble that he had found on his cheeks that morning had begun to grace his entire chest, swirling around his nipples. As he watched, they poked out even further, becoming dark, feathery flecks that made it look like he trimmed regularly. As if he would ever do that.

He felt up his own chest, enjoying the way the short hairs flicked against his hands, adding texture and dimension to every inch of skin they covered. He came without warning, sending spurt after spurt of cum into Duke’s eager, waiting mouth.

After he returned the favor, Duke showed him how to properly light a cigar and the two of them took deep puffs out on the patio. Duke had warned him that the first time he tried a cigar, he would probably hate the taste and might even burn his throat, but he felt perfectly at ease with a stogie in his hand, shooting the breeze with his gym buddy? Fuck buddy? He supposed it was both, and a glowing sense of pride suffused his body as he blew out an expert smoke ring.

————

Needless to say, Cam went back to Duke’s every day after that. They didn’t smoke again (he was thinking once a month might be the best move, but he yearned for that smoky, rich flavor to roll through him again), but they sure did everything else again. And again.

He opened his computer a few days later, running his fingers through his now luxurious chest hair, which was beginning to curl into hypnotic patterns against his skin. New stubble was now blooming across his stomach, which was already feeling tighter after so many days of strenuous workouts in a row.

A notification from Amazon popped up. “7 day review hold has elapsed. Here is your original product review for Magic Mustache. Would you like to edit or publish as-is?”

Cam clicked the “edit” button and changed the review to just one word: “Life-changing.”

SEPTEMBER

Alex dragged his suitcase into the dorm, sweating with the effort, as the summer heat hadn’t quite burned away in Boston yet. His dad had offered to help him move his stuff, but he wanted to handle it on his own. It was such a rush feeling truly independent for the first time. He just hoped his roommate was nice.

When he returned to the curb to grab the last of his stuff, he heard a whistle. He turned to see a scruffy looking redneck leaning against his rusted-out scrap heap of a car. The fuck was this guy doing here? He looked totally out of place. So disheveled and hairy and totally unkempt. Alex didn’t like the look of him one bit.

The man touched the brim of his cap and asked in a thick Southern twang, “Alex, right?”

“…yeah, I’m Alex.”

“I’m your roommate, man! Cam! Nice to meetcha.”

Cam pulled Alex into a bear hug and Alex grimaced.

“What’s the matter, Alex?”

Alex gave him another once-over and decided that, while there was plenty to be concerned about here, one thing stood out above all else.

“The beard, man. I hate beards, they make guys look all scruffy and dirty. I don’t want to invite friends over and have them think you’re going to rough them up or something. The rest I can deal with, but the beard is a no-no for me.” Alex was telling the truth. He’d always favored the clean-cut look with a fervor that bordered on religious zealotry. His own stubble grew in so thick that sometimes he’d shave twice a day to make sure he was looking fresh and worthy of his place in upper-crust social circles.

“No worries, man.” muttered Cam. “I’ve got just the thing for that.”

A razor, Alex presumed. What else could he mean?

The old man took a deep breath. He was constantly trying not to pass out as the powerful ecstasy spread through his legs and throughout his body. But the stronger and deeper the ecstasy became, the more difficult it was. He felt those powerful muscular legs shaking. Previously it had been a sign of weakness, but now it actually excited him. It was proof that his invention buried in the sand, a machine that extracted little by little the strength of every muscular young man on the beach and transferred it to him, was working properly.

The old scientist clenched his fists and held on to keep himself awake through all the ecstasy. He moaned softly and slowly touched himself. He had been really small and weak all his life. But now he has an incredible amount of stamina and a huge muscular body. Although his invention did not rejuvenate his face, it was upgraded into a more handsome and healthy version as he gained the energy of a young muscular man. All age spots disappeared from his skin and he had a healthy tan. Although some wrinkles remained on his face, it actually added to his charm. He has become so superior that everyone envies him.

Bulging!

The more energy he put into it, the bigger his body became. The old man’s tiny speedo no longer fit his powerful, massive, muscular body.