815 posts

Man Of Your Dreams

Man Of Your Dreams

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

Man Of Your Dreams

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.

Man Of Your Dreams

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.

Man Of Your Dreams

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. 

Man Of Your Dreams
Man Of Your Dreams
Man Of Your Dreams

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.

Man Of Your Dreams
Man Of Your Dreams

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.” 

Man Of Your Dreams
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.

Man Of Your Dreams

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.

Man Of Your Dreams
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More Posts from Psychopatycznysocjopata

"Alright Babe. Close Your Eyes. I'm Gonna Put The Collar On You." I Stated, Getting Excited At The Prospect

"Alright babe. Close your eyes. I'm gonna put the collar on you." I stated, getting excited at the prospect of my boyfriend trying out my new kink.

"Are you sure about this? I don't believe in all that hypno crap. I'm only doing this for your birthday because you wouldn't accept anything else." He said as he pulled off his shirt, exposing his hairy chest and abs.

"It's not crap. Now close your eyes. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. Just humor me." I said exasperated.

He sighed and closed his eyes as he sat on the chair. He was still wearing his gym shorts. I gently put the handkerchief collar around his head and fastened it around his neck. He continued keeping his eyes closed as the magic started to work and the collar glowed.

"Babe? This thing feels kinda tight... and warm. What's going -?" He was suddenly interrupted as the magic seemed to shimmer over his face and then down his body.

"Oh shit, Vince?! Are you okay babe?" I asked suddenly realizing that something otherworldly happened.

Vince opened his eyes and looked at me dumbfounded. Suddenly his mouth opened wide and his tongue fell out as he started panting.

"Vince?! Answer me! Are you okay?" I exclaimed, now grabbing Vince's arms and shaking him a bit.

Vince pushed me away and started lifting up his arms and sniffing his pits. He growled in excitement as he suddenly started getting hard. A wet spot formed over his gym shorts as this happened. He ran his hands down his chest and abs as he familiarized himself with his body. It was clear this was no longer Vince.

I slowly approached my possessed boyfriend again as he watched me cautiously.

"Seriously Vince, snap out of it. I need to get that collar off."

Vince grabbed his collar and seemed to fasten it even snugger around his neck. He smirked at me and nodded his head 'no'.

I lunged for my boyfriend and he easily kept distance and pushed me away, knocking me to the floor. He loomed over me as he started flexing his body.

"Bad human. This is mine now." He stated menacingly in my boyfriend's voice.

"Alright alright. I'm sorry. But you can't steal my boyfriend's body. It's not yours!" I pleaded.

"Mine now." He rolled his eyes back in his head and suddenly swallowed, opening them again.

"See, this is mine now. And I can act like your boyfriend if that's what you want. Didn't you want the perfect pup boyfriend for your birthday babe?"

"Uh, well, yeah..."

"Then it's settled. I have his memories and I can be Vince. Don't you dare think about taking his collar off me." He demanded.

"Yeah... I promise." I conceded.

"Good, now, aren't I supposed to be the one on the ground begging for you to fuck me?" He yelped, dropping to all fours and wagging his butt at me.

Well, maybe I can get used to this.


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Welcome to Dr Salvaje's devolution machine

Hello, I'm Dr Salvaje (not an actual doctor) and this is my glorious and cringy blog, also known as the devolution machine where everyone can discuss the topic of neanderthal/caveman TFs but sometimes we can also discuss things that aren't related to neanderthal TFs like for example our hobbies or favorite food but before you can all go crazy and wild there are some rules you need to follow

Rule 1. Be kind to everyone and no bullying or harrasing, please. It can ruin the fun and can make people feel unsafe.

Rule 2. Please keep it PG because this is meant to be a safe place for everyone who would like to discuss this topic and should be kept sfw around here at all times and not be sexualized in anyway, shape or form.

Rule 3. I know everyone should know this right now, but follow the tumblr community guidelines.

Project N.O.W.: Neanderthalization Of the World.

Human test trial 1

Dr Salvaje Asks series

Who is Dr Salvaje?

What prehistoric plant would Salvaje eat/does the machine work on other living things?


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FML: Urged

FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

FML: Urged

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent years perfecting my splits. After about two months, I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

FML: Urged

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

FML: Urged

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.


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Short: The Comments Section

Short: The Comments Section

Michael wasn't having a good day. He had just been rejected by the third girl in a week. He supposed he wasn't getting anywhere with the ladies because he still looked like a kid even though he was 25. But that wasn't his fault!

In order to purge his frustrations, he opened up OnlyFans, making sure to put in headphones so his roommates wouldn't hear. He clicked on a video posted by his favorite creator, SexySadie69, curious to see what it was, because the title was gibberish and the thumbnail seemed pixelated.

It took a while to load, but when it opened, it just showed what seemed to be a live comments page with nothing on it. He tried to click away, but his mouse just turned into a spinning wheel. He was stuck. He didn't notice the light on his laptop's webcam turn on.

A droning sound began to emanate from his headphones. It was unsettling, but also vaguely pleasant. He began to feel warm and calm. That's when the first comment came in.

New Comment: This boy's too neat. Let's mess up that hair a little bit.

He puzzled over the comment, running his fingers through his hair and causing it to stick straight up in a messy tangle.

New Comment: That messy look would be complete with a little stubble, wouldn't it?

Michael found himself agreeing with the comment, but alas he couldn't grow a single hair on his chin to save his life. The droning sound intensified and seemed to rattle his skin, causing fresh growth of stubble to emerge from his cheeks and chin, darkly dusting his upper lip.

New Comment: Oooh, and a nice thick patch of chest hair would do nicely.

When had Michael taken his shirt off? He couldn't remember. One by one, dark speckles appeared on his chest, as if it had started raining. From nipple to nipple, and all the way up to his neck, the dots covered his skin thickly, all at once bursting forth as dark hairs surged forth, poking sharply forward before softening and curling into a lush mat that felt soft to the touch.

He rubbed his chest, enjoying the manly feeling of the hair brushing against his fingertips. His dick hardened in his pants and he began to wonder when Sadie would show up. He hoped she would like his new, manly self, and he would certainly enjoy watching her stroke her firm, hairy pecs. And maybe her beard would be a little longer this time, so... Wait, what was he thinking? He shook his head to clear it, but more and more images of men's chests, asses, and dicks, filled his brain, causing his dick to tremble with desire.

The drone intensified and he gave a satisfied smile. If he wanted men, he was in the right place.

Short: The Comments Section

New Comment: The new guy's a bit of a tease, I can tell.

Michael wasn't even reading the comments anymore. He was lost in a blissful haze, hard as a rock. He began to mime jerking off, hoping that one of his OnlyFans viewers might get the hint and tip him enough to get started. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer, but he was making money hand over fist lately. Quite literally.

Short: The Comments Section

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Bull

(Original story posted August 10th 2021) Minor Edits and Corrections!

Eric couldn’t help but stare as he watched a huge hairy bear of a man pass by him. All his life he’d wanted to look like that. Big and manly with impressive muscles and body hair from head to toe. Yet he felt like he was cursed to look like a skinny twink. It’s not that he thought he wasn’t good looking or anything. He pulled off the boyish twink look incredibly well and had been hit on by tons of other gay men in the past. But despite that something just never felt right. Like deep down he couldn’t help feeling as though this wasn’t who he was.

He sighed, watching the bearish brute strode away. He then looked down at his own smooth and skinny form. Eric hung his head in silence for a moment, looking down into the lake he was sitting beside. “Maybe one day...” Eric mumbled to himself while kicking his feet in the water slightly. He’d tried for years to get bigger by going to the gym and eating better but his body hardly ever changed not to mention he hadn’t ever been to grow body hair to save his life. Who was he kidding? He was never gonna look like that guy.

Once he’d finished mopping around, Eric got up and headed into the public restroom to relieve himself. It was a single person restroom so he was able to lock it from the outside door.

Once he’d finished up and washed his hands, Eric was about to leave when he noticed something he hadn’t seen when he walked in. On the back of the exit door to the restroom hung a red speedo. Eric could’ve sworn it wasn’t there when he’d locked the door earlier and yet there it was now. Out of curiosity he grabbed the speedo to take a look.

Upon closer examination, he realised that the speedo felt slightly damp, like someone had been sweating in them. He pulled the speedo up to his nose and was greeted by a powerful musky smell that only a real man could produce. a scent so strong and potent it could hypnotise even the straightest of men.

Despite the desire to dig his nose back into the fabric, Eric found himself mesmerised by the letters on the crotch area of the speedo that spelled out the word “BULL” the word repeated over and over in his mind as the speedo got a grip on him. Before he knew it, Eric found himself pulling the speedo over his head in a way that allowed the crotch to engulf his nose before starting to remove his clothes. Kicking off his shoes and socks, throwing off his t-shirt and pulling down his shorts and underwear all while hugging on the overpowering smell. Then once he was nude, as if on auto pilot, Eric reluctantly pulled the Speedo away from his face and yanked on as fast as he could. Quickly securing it around his crotch and backside even if it was a tad bit loose.

Suddenly, Eric’s body began to heat up. Slowly but surely he started to grow larger. His legs bulked up into thick trunks as his feet grew sizes upon sizes bigger. His chest and abdomen grew larger and thicker as strong abs and pecs began to take form. His shoulders blew-up into thick masses as his biceps and triceps started to bulge with newfound power while his hands grew larger and fatter. The speedo began to fit Eric perfectly as his ass grew thick and juicy with muscle. On the other hand his cock extended from a 5 inch hard to a 9 inch, becoming thicker and thicker while his balls grew fatter and fuller.

As Eric’s face began to slightly reshape itself, his hair receded into a much shorter cut. This was swiftly followed by a mass of body hair beginning to grow across his body leaving him with hairy buff legs, hairy forearms, a furry stomach and a beautiful pelt of hair spread across his chest. Eric also gained a larger bush above his cock while his plump butt gained a generous layer of hair. Last but certainly not least, Eric’s face started to itch as hair began to poke through forming stubble which swiftly grew into a beard. One that swiftly grew thicker and thicker until he looked like the perfect hairy muscle daddy.

Eric slowly came out of whatever trance he was in, looking down at his new and improved body before letting out a scream that now sounded more like a deep roar with his new voice. Eric was in total shock but despite that he couldn’t help but feel extremely horny as he looked into the mirror above the sink to see what looked to still be himself but transformed into the complete daddy he’d always wished he was.

He wasted no time feeling up every inch of his new body before whipping out his new massive cock that had been straining the speedo. Eric wrapped a large hand around his thick new daddy dick and began pumping it enthusiastically. Moaning in a deep baritone as he did. “Oh fuuuuuuck yeeah I’m such a fuuckin daddy hunk!” He proclaimed to himself while rubbing his chest hair before he flexed his free arm in the mirror. “Ooooooh yeeeeaaahh FUCK!!” He gripped his dick harder as he jerked off furiously, feeling the intense pleasure build up. “I’m such a fucking DADDY!” He roared! “I’m such a… FU-FUCKING… **BULL!**” And with that final word a fountain of cum came rushing from Eric’s cock. Splattering the mirror and himself with ridiculous amounts of it as he drained his new bull balls completely.

Eric must’ve spent at least another 20 minutes locked in the restroom checking himself out before he finally decided to head out. As he stood at the shore of the lake, only in the speedo after leaving his old clothes behind, he couldn’t help but feel happy knowing that he now had that body that he felt comfortable in.

‘Hope whoever goes into that restroom next doesn’t mind the mess I left in there’ Eric thought to himself with a small chuckle.

Bull

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