Ribomfairu-blog - Sin Ttulo - Tumblr Blog

CHAVTF Clothes Make the Man

Frederik liked walking through the rougher neighborhood between his office and home after work in the evening. It was a detour, but he loved the atmosphere—kind of trashy, lower-class, but definitely masculine. Real dudes stood outside corner pubs, drinking beers. Rowdy teens in tracksuits spat on the street in front of him, adjusting their junk like it was nothing. Frederik was almost 50. He had never dared to come out. His attempts at sex with women, and even one man, were pathetic. The closest he got to the men who turned him on was walking past them. He might have had a cool job and made decent money, but his life? It was miserable.

The shop window he stopped in front of had never caught his eye before. "CHAVTF" was the name. The display wasn’t exactly stylish—just old-school mannequins wearing Adidas tracksuits, Ben Sherman shirts, and Lonsdale tank tops. Clothes that his fantasies wore. He had to go inside. The only person there was the guy behind the counter, talking on the phone, and to Frederik's surprise, smoking inside. The shop smelled like smoke and sweaty men in cheap, synthetic tracksuits. Frederik didn’t get hard—he never really did anymore—but his underwear got damp from precum.

He stood by a rack of shiny synthetic clothing: T-shirts, shorts, tracksuits. One tracksuit practically called to him—a white and gray one, like some kind of snow camo. He checked for the largest size. XL. It was going to be tight, but he had to try it on. Grabbing the tracksuit and his laptop bag, he headed to the only fitting room he could find. The floor wasn’t particularly clean, and it took some effort to strip down and stand there in just his socks. He slipped into the tracksuit. No mirror in the changing room, though. He didn’t take off his polished black Oxfords, even if they didn’t match. He wasn’t about to walk through the shop in socks, and leaving his button-down shirt on under the jacket probably looked ridiculous. But he didn’t want the plastic fabric touching his bare skin.

He knew the tracksuit didn’t fit—it was way too tight. He needed a mirror. There was one outside. Of course, with his dress shoes and shirt, plus his bloated face and neatly parted hair, he looked totally ridiculous. Still, he wanted that tracksuit. He looked around for the shop assistant, who was glued to his phone. Frederik, with a dry throat, squeaked out, “Do you have this in a bigger size?” The guy barely glanced up, “Nah, mate, my bad, but like, we straight up don't even carry that brand. What you see is what we got.”

Frederik pointed to the rack where he’d found it. But now, instead of shiny plastic, there were boxing clothes and gloves. Cool leather gloves like the ones hooligans wear. What the hell? That wasn’t there before! Frederik wanted to get out of here. But the air in the shop made him feel light-headed. He looked for the fitting room again. Couldn’t find it. His breathing got heavy. The assistant came over, asking if everything was alright. “No,” Frederik replied, “nothing’s alright. Where’s the fitting room?”

The guy gave him a cheeky, almost lustful smile. “We don’t got any fitting rooms here, mate. You’d have to change somewhere between the racks.” And suddenly, Frederik felt the assistant’s hand on his nipple. He flinched. The guy grinned. “You don’t look like you mind getting changed in public.” Frederik jumped back in shock. The guy laughed. “Why so shy, bro? Maybe I should’ve introduced myself first. Name’s Dick.” He grabbed his crotch. “Name fits, too.”

Frederik stammered, trying to say he was flattered but just wanted to change back and leave. Dick looked at him like he didn’t get it. “Dude, I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and you’re still wearing what you came in with.”

Panic set in for Frederik. Where was the fitting room? Where were his clothes? He’d left them by the Adidas jackets, right? Now there was nothing. Where he’d placed the tracksuit and laptop bag, there was a backpack. He opened it. Someone else’s stuff—phone, wallet, gym gear. But also condoms, little brown bottles and cans labeled “Crisco.” Dick was suddenly behind him. “Yeah, that’s what you came in with, mate. And if you got Crisco, I’ve got some ideas on how we could use it.” His hand was under Frederik’s tracksuit again. It felt good. Frederik wanted to protest, but it felt really good. Dick’s hand slipped under his T-shirt, heading for his ass crack…

“Wait, stop!” Frederik jumped aside.

“Come on, princess. I could lock up and show you a good time. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Frederik,” he muttered, “and I don’t plan on getting anything from you.”

“Then why’d you show up dressed like a rent boy with a load of Crisco and poppers in your bag on a Friday night? You don’t look like you’re heading to a cooking class.”

Dick rummaged through the backpack, pulling out a pair of assless latex briefs and flashing Frederik’s driver’s license. “Frederick Miller,” he said, holding the photo next to Frederik’s face, “but real life’s way hotter than this pic.”

Frederik snatched the wallet back. Name? Correct. Birthday? Correct. Birth year? No, it wasn’t 2005—it was 1975! What the hell was going on? The photo showed a young man. He needed a mirror. Right now. There was one just ahead.

“Yo, Ricky, you alright?” Dick leaned over him. “You kinda zoned out. How much poppers you had tonight?”

Frederik stood up. The mirror showed a dude in a sleek snow camo tracksuit. But it was a size M, probably. The guy was slim and toned, with a trendy haircut and acne-prone skin. That wasn’t him. Hell no. But the guy in the mirror had a hard-on. And Frederik? He had an iron-hard, throbbing erection. Dick wrapped an arm around him. He was hard too—Frederik could feel it. Dick held a bottle under Frederik’s nose. “Relax and lean against the wall.” In a daze, Frederik obeyed. Dick pulled down his pants, muttering, “This might hurt a little.”

Whatever was in that bottle made Frederik hornier than ever. Bent over, hands pressed to the wall by the mirror, he saw a face that wasn’t his own. He felt Dick’s cock push into him. It hurt. God, it hurt. But it felt amazing. Dick fucked him hard, and Frederik’s cock bounced with each thrust. He wanted to jerk off, but needed his hands to keep from collapsing. His eyes rolled back as he felt Dick unload inside him. And Frederik came, too—harder than he ever had before. This wasn’t forced. This was pure, raw pleasure. And the mess on the mirror? Massive.

“Ricky, that was hot as always. Catch you later at the Ku-Bar for a drink and a fuck?” Frederik had no idea what Dick was talking about but nodded. Dick planted a deep kiss on him. Grabbing his backpack, Frederik stumbled out of CHAVTF—both freaked out and exhilarated. Once outside, he finally breathed in the fresh air.

According to ‘his’ identity card, he lived just a few streets away. A run-down house with an entrance full of graffiti. The front door key from ‘his’ rucksack fitted. But where did he live? He walked through the stairwell. He was met by a young Chav in a tracksuit, who greeted him with ‘Hi Ricky, back from the gym yet?’. Frederick greeted him back. Frederick secretly looked at the doorbells. Finally, on the fourth floor, he found a sign saying ‘Ricky/Morty/Liam’. Thank God, the key fitted. He was in a small flat in an old building, furnished cheaply but stylishly with bulky rubbish and Ikea furniture. He opened a door, behind which was a room with a bedroom, desk and wardrobe. Cramped but cosy. Ricky threw himself onto the bed. Sleep? Thinking? He involuntarily began to jerk off. ‘Ricky, you bastard, can't you wank in your own room?’ Suddenly a naked man with a towel around his shoulders stood in the doorway. Shit, it was obviously Morty or Liam. Anyway, he obviously knew Frederick. And Frederick's arse, which had been fucked for the second time today.

The weekend felt like a film to him. People greeted him all the time. He was constantly getting messages and calls on his mobile phone. He went on dates. Most of them ended in sex. He danced through two nights. Then he had sex. In the morning, he made coffee naked in the shared kitchen. And then he had sex afterwards. He was horny all the time. And it obviously met the taste of many men. Still, what the hell had happened? Who was he? Who was the Ricky Miller he was now? Definitely not the head of the Transportation Division at a bank in the City… It was Sunday evening. Morty and Liam were watching TV in the living room. They were probably watching porn, they were probably wanking again. The thought also gave Ricky a hard-on again. But he scrolled through his mobile phone. The weekend was as good as over. He would probably have to work tomorrow. His mobile phone was newer and more expensive than the one he had been using. But it was poorly maintained. There was a ‘Work’ entry. But no address. He dialled the number. An answering machine said ‘Welcome to Regulation. We are here for you Monday to Saturday from 11:00 to 19:00 and Sunday from 12:00 to 17:00. Outside of these hours, please visit regulation dot store.’ Frederick googled the address. And turned pale. At least he could sleep in tomorrow. It would probably be enough if he was in the shop at 10.00 am.

A month had passed. Ricky had settled into his new life. He liked his job at REGULATION. He liked his occasional jobs as a model or amateur actor in smaller porn productions. He got around well. This weekend he got to model for his favourite label again. Not much money. But at least a trip to Berlin.

He loved the things from TWINK X . But unfortunately a bit too expensive for his salary. Most of the guys he saw in the clothes were unfortunately too old and too fat for his taste. Well, he was usually able to earn some pocket money from them. And then it was enough for a pair of shorts or a T-shirt. The hot skinhead he had made eye contact with on the underground all the way to Nollendorfplatz was far from fat. Perhaps too muscular for Ricky's taste. But a hot guy. And the TWINK X jacket he was wearing was damn hot! Unusual for such an obvious top to be wearing something like that. But Ricky wasn't picky. The shoot had been exhausting. He almost didn't care who he was relieving stress with now.

Happy birthday! Do you still have anything for someone that dreams to be a gay porn star but doesn't have the body or confidence to do it?

You had seen the magic happen all around you at the party, everyone becoming hot individuals at the Birthday boys celebration. Walking past two jocks sloppily making out in the corridor, you make it into a well lit bedroom hoping for something that can make your dreams reality. On the bed you see a squeaky clean, fresh, white jockstrap. Your mind racing what the worst outcome would be you, against your better judgment, you put on the Rakurai Inc. brand jockstrap.

Taking off all your clothes incase nothing happens, you lay down on the bed waiting. You let out a small burp and giggle in anticipation. Then another. Suddenly you can't help but let out all the gasses in your body, unceremoniously burping away.

Slowly you feel your skin tighten around you, but for some reason you can't summon the strength to look at your own body. You start to feel bloated, slow and your mind comes to a screeching halt. Your limbs inflate with a combination of thick fat and plump muscles. Some red ropes begin to tighten around your shoulders leaving you in an even more precarious situation than you already were.

Suddenly the door opened and a big muscular bull walked in followed by two cute guys with cam corders.

"Look at him, so invitingly plump."

You feel drool drip down your cheek, hungry for whatever this man can give you.

"You wanna film and have sex, lil bottom?" The bull stands over you with his cock inches from your face.

You nod. "Please use me sir"

He only grins and stuffs his monster down your throat.

You sure got your wish. A cum dump bottom to be filled by any and all.

Hi. I've been wanting to write to you for a long time… I'm a generally obedient normal guy. Work, friends, and all that. But lately, it's not so desirable to become a rebel. Quit everything, smoke and hang out with the brothers, becoming a skinhead or a chav. I don't know how to explain it…

What you really need, bro, is a tight AF squad full of hella dope homies. Like, super ripped bros who got your back no matter what! And you definitely need a fresh gig, man. You're a pro at collecting that protection dough and blowing up ATMs. You feelin' me, or nah? Sorry, my bad, but my Albanian skills are like, non-existent… You just didn't grind in school long enough to pick up another language. It's all good though, 'cause you speak the language of the streets. You're straight-up fluent in that vibe!

Belated Happy Birthday! Sorry I’m so late with this, as a way to say sorry feel free to do what you want with me to help the celebrations last that little bit longer

When you came to you had the intense urge to help someone, the birthday boy. However no matter how hard you were thinking you couldn't think of how. So you just stopped. Stopped thinking, stopped worrying. The moment you did that a warm feeling washed over your body. At the same time your body began to feel tight. Your head felt light.

You looked down to see your arms almost bursting the seams, your pecs almost pushing through. You pulled your shirt over your neck and looked at your rippeling new abs. Your legs burst through your pants as your underwear became home to a python with their eggs. You couldn't help but fondle your new groin and looked over at the mirror in your room. You looked like a brute. A hot sexy brute able to relieve all worries in their partners life. You snapped a pic and send it to your birthday boy. "Omw babe... no worry"

The all American, Straight, frat boy, while hot to a lot of people, leaves a lot for my little gay nerd heart to be desired. Jett over here in our media literacy course was so certain that because of his build, hair and confidence that he would make the best fit for Captain America Steve Rogers out of everyone here. What had started this entire conversation was the discussion of super hero media and what hero do we feel we best embodied. Surely I don't have an issue with anyone saying they have a favorite, or that they relate heavily to a character but Jett... Jett went on a tirade.

He started it all off, saying how much he had loved and idolized the early MCU films, how they were his inspiration for a lot of his life. Someone else had mentioned a character that showed up later and how that inspired them and Jett just shut them down, saying it was dog shit, how it was poorly written and had forced representation. How that person should feel bad for liking a badly written show or character.

He said we should have been more like him, and embodied good characters like Captain America Steve Rogers. How the character was a patriot, who listened to the government and was against all of this woke bullshit. The prof had immediately ended the discussion, saying how this was raising tensions too high, she dismissed class for all of us but I wasn't going to just let this slide.

Class would be in session for Jett.

I ran after him as we left the building, catching up. I hadn't spoken up in the course waiting till the time was right to work my magic, so he didn't think anything of me when I approached him. Just another possible buff straight dude. I lowered my voice and greeted him.

"Yo BRO, I heard you talking in class today and I really liked what you said." God this was so cringey, but it worked getting my magic latched on. "Yeah bro? You a fan of Good Marvel films too? Could always use another bro to talk to!" He says, I notice he shivered a little rubbing his shoulder when I said bro.

"I actually never got started watching em BRO, but hearing you talk BRO made me want to!" I said, laying the intention on thick, he was almost covered in magic now.

"Well bro that changes now, your coming over and I'm gonna show you real fucking cinema, not some of that pansy shit the prof talks about in class!" It was to easy to get here, lying to him was so simple, it honestly was a little fun. As he started leading me forward jogging ahead I couldn't help but notice one thing though, he claims to have Steve Rogers build, but he definitely didn't have America's Ass.

I'd fix that!

It didn't take long jogging to get to his place, a cushy apartment on campus. His roommate was busy off in their own room so I had enough space and time to work my magic. By the time we were inside he had already been covered in mystical force that I knew all it took would be a simple push.

He set up the smart tv, talking nonsense for a bit and asking if I wanted to start with Iron man or get into the really good stuff with Cap. To be honest I had to save braincells so I said Captain America, plus it had the perfect theme and moments for change. We sat there through the beginning of the movie playing. He was a typical straight man laying buffers between us where we sat, making crude jokes all until the moment of transformation.

As Steve Rogers got in that pod I SNAPPED my fingers, my magic that had laid sedentary upon our interaction ERUPTED and PULSED out in a delightful WARMTH. I could see his posture shift, his legs spread out as his bugle grew bigger and his cheeks raised him higher. His body grew sweaty as his muscles inflated, his core becoming the perfect washboard abs, his breathing began to quicken as he looked around. His chest rising up and down rapidly till he only had two pillows while his shoulders squared and arms put on pure muscle mass.

Where as before his body was lean and athletic my magic made sure to put on some mass taking him into pure Adonis hunk territory. His hair darkening as his skin began to tan. He was panicking as he notice himself move closer to me. No longer in control of his body, it having a mind of its own as he slowly crawled towards me. "On your left handsome" his voice ringing out deeper, more sensual as he looked at me with wide eyes. I could tell he wanted to fight his body.

The problem is he was also fighting his new mind, his thoughts racing and ranting on what he was becoming as stray thoughts bombarded him. His pathetic, gatekeep-ey nerdom under attack by a more open minded outlook. His views on women and interest in them absconded as images of men of all kinds washed over him. An urge, a DESIRE to PROTECT and SERVE whatever man became his and got to experience what it was like to RIDE America's Ass.

Steve Rogers was almost out of the pod as Jett climbed on my lap, throwing off his shirt and ripping off mine. He paused, his mind clear for just a sec as his ass ground against my bulge, he could make the final choice here. "Bro...what are you doing to me?!" He asked his lips, thicker, more plump then they were before just a few inches from mine.

"Just gave you the FREEDOM to be your own captain" I moaned out, knowing I couldn't sway this choice if he got up and walked out this room he would go back to normal. "All you have to do is TAKE IT!" I moaned as I said it, his ass sandwiching my bulge between his inflated cheeks.

I didn't hear him say anything, but I felt him rip his own shorts off then pull mine off as he began his first and last ride on my cock as the incel Jett.

Meet Steve Rodriguez, an all welcoming nerd who loves comics, movies and our weekly DND session where if we don't run late I get to enjoy his American Ass.

KOKSTRAP KAOS PT1-ISH

Hey everyone, if you remember a little while ago I did a story where I put on a KOKSTRAP myself when I was getting with Kevin-linked below. Anyway I thought I'd share the direct aftermath. Enjoy!

------

He wasn't supposed to get that big!

Now everyone I know I have a tendency, or well a consistency of plans going flawlessly but lately things have been going a little awry. I should have known wearing the Power bottom jockstrap by KOK (tm) would have caused problems, it was just so...so fucking fun.

As you all have seen, when I make a plan or a change I tend to have clear guidelines. Hell I write everything out for you all to see, the beginning and the results. But ever since I put on that damn jockstrap and changed Kevin.... I've been letting things slip, especially with him.

KOK Jocks or better known as KOKSTRAPS- all came with their own heaps of benefits and side effects, I mean all magic does. I made these jockstraps as a way to help others fundamentally change themselves and others around them. Hell Im even selling them on the frats Website. And while some of these jockstraps are permanent and their side effects more apparent then others. The one I wore should have been fine for me to wear because it's not a perma jock, just while wearing it, and I made it so I could just dismiss it. But Kevin was some of my best work and I was really appreciating my handiwork after his transformation.

Here's what the Power bottom KOKSTRAPSs effects are

Ass growth

Core muscle enhancement

Self Lubing hole

Tops hairiness preference

Figure enhancement

Stamina enhancement

Cum production enhancement

Dominant mindset

Flexibility enhancement

Hole elasticity emhancement

Which were all positives, none that could really be taken advantage of, until we get to the side effects.

KOK JOCKS is not liable for possible side effects when wearing Jockstrap POWERBOTTOM which may include- insatiable hunger for cock, cum, a need to be fucked and or fuck others with your ass, loss of intelligence, ditzy like behavior and mannerisms, incredibly high sensitivity to ass, lips and chest and easily susceptible to influence. If you or a love one experiences these side effects please contact Everett at KOK or his Vice President IMMEDIATELY.

I remember pulling myself off of his cock after our first fuck, he had started with us in doggy style before I shifted us into cowgirl, straddling his hips. Trying to pull myself off of every magically enhanced nine inches of his cock had almost made me cum again especially as I heard him moan, and his hands finding my hips, gently suggesting as I got halfway up for me to fall back down. Looking down at him, his cocky lantern jaw adorned with lips, biting back a loud moan and eyes pleadingly begging me to keep bouncing on his incredibly sensitive fuck stick.

I caved!

How could anyone resist that face, it was my first mistake of many "mmmm you want to keep fucking me Daddy?!" My voice so slutty, so smooth as I felt his hands, one still on my hip, his fingers starting to tighten so nicely around me, the other traveling up my sides until it reached my pecs and began to lightly caress my chest. The power and intention on the word Daddy was open ended, I was just so horny, I didn't realize it would take us where we went.

"Fu..F...Fuck yes, babe... Fuck I need you and that slutty ass. NOW!" His hand found one of my nipples and tweaked it causing me to slip up, my legs which had been straddling his hips just briefly lost their balance causing me to fall ALL the way back down his cock. My self Lubing hole had no resistance as he used his other hand to pull my waist down closer to him, his hips moving up to meet my ass, causing them to ripple.

Looking back I've learned that just because this KOKSTRAP gave me the mindset and base traits of a power bottom, didn't mean I was always going to have control. And I definitely didn't here.

Kevin's other hand moved quickly to my torso as he began to fuck me, not giving me any time to come down from taking his cock so quickly "Kev...Kevin slow down I..im-" i felt his hands tweak both my nipples this time, making me moan out in ecstasy as he interrupted me. "Uh uh, slut address me properly!" He says lifting me up his cock before pulling me down into his thrusting member, god I was so close to cumming again, the inside of this jockstrap soaked with my precum.

Through moans I try and ask him what it means and he tells me "CALL.ME.DADDY!" Each word punctuated with him pulling all the way out and plunging all the way back in

I continued to straddle the hips that were shaking, unable to stand on their own. Its like my vision just WHITES OUT, my back arches as I throw my head back, I can feel my cock cumming trapped behind the magical fabric, causing it to glow ever so slightly. I don't notice it I can't I'm incoherently babbling begging for more in tongues.

Kevin stops fucking me, he stops maneuvering my body, I'm sitting their beginning to adjust like I had wanted but my hole is so hungry, flexing around his cock. I can feel his cock twitching in me, I needed more. Why had I wanted him to slow down? "D...daddy I need it...please fuck MEEE!" I whine, my voice needier then I've ever heard, the jockstrap felt heavier on me, snugger and almost like it was massaging my cock with my excess cum...God I needed cum, why wouldn't Kevin cum.

I looked up at him his lantern jaw framing a smirk, his eyes staring down at me as he flexed his cock making me moan. "Not good enough boy. Need you to beg Daddy like a good boy. Otherwise Daddy won't cum!" He rested his hands against my globes, my ass felt so much better if he'd just grab them.

I needed it bad, all thoughts, all reasons be damned, this hot, sexy stud was refusing me cum, "Kev...DADDY..DADDY PPLEASE, I'll..I'll do anything" I flex my hole around his cock, and try to gyrate my hips but he grabs my hips and stops me from being able to move like I want..but those strong hands are doing what I need them to. Kneading my cheeks like dough.

He shakes his head and tsks at me. I feel his eyes bearing down into me "That was good begging SLUT, but your still not doing what I SAID! WHAT! IS! MY NAME! I'm not gonna fill your greedy boy pussy until you say it and MEAN IT!" He lifts me up and pulls me down six times rapidly causing me to moan my brains out. My hands searching for stability reach out and grab onto his muscular chest as my back arches and I cum, again. Harder then last time I fire off load after load, shooting three times, causing the KOKSTRAP to glow again. It's straps getting tighter, the pouch around my cock and balls following suit but also pulsing with magic. The words going around the top of the KOKSTRAP vanishing waiting to be filled in.

I look at him, the words falling out of my mouth, every single one of them burning with desire, power, PLEASURE! "YOUR DADDY, YOUR MY DADDY, IM DADDYS SLUTTY BOI!" My words echoing out, my KOKSTRAP burning with power engraves DADDYS SLUTTY BOI across the waistband, that same power washes over KEVIN DADDY , settling on his throat

He smiles down at me as he pulls me off his cock, standing tall. "MHMM, so this is what your power feels like BOI, it feels so ENDLESS, it's like I know exactly what to say to change you!" He sits down on my bed and moves me onto my stomach over his lap. I'm biting my lip as his words echoing with my power, his deep DADDY voice commanding me as the KOKSTRAP GLOWS PURPLE. "First things first BOI, no taking off that KOKSTRAP unless DADDY TELLS YOU!" As he says the words the KOKSTRAP tightens around me, the straps framing my ass feel sturdier then ever, the pouching holding my cock and balls in and place and massaging them magically hardens as the magic blazes through the fabric. Sinking into my flesh I don't even feel the desire to take it off, all I want...no all I feel is my needy hole begging for him to fuck me again. I needed DADDY.

I try to say something but as I do I feel DADDY'S hand away down onto my ass. "no talking back, no clever tricks BOI, BAD BOIS get spanked" whatever thought I had seemed to get sent flying as his hands connected to my ass popping my thoughts like bubbles leaving my mind blank.

"If you want to be DADDY'S GOOD SLUTTY BOY, and I know you do, you just have to listen" he says caressing my my muscle cheeks after he finished spanking them. His fingers eventually finding my begging hole as began to tease it. I wanted... Needed to be his GOOD BOY so I listened. "GOOD SLUTTY BOYS need to get fucked often. You can't think clearly if you don't get enough cock and cum. Each time you get FUCKED you'll go back to being lucid... Mostly...still with that hunger and a lil bit sluttier. But the longer you go without cock and cum, my cock and cum ESPECIALLY the dumber, sluttier, hungrier for it you'll get!" He moans his voice and breath getting ragged as he talks faster, finger fucking me faster. I look over my shoulder, biting my lips as I'm moaning. He's smirking down at me as he forces another orgasm out with just his fingers my eyes crossing. The KOKSTRAP glowing with more power.

He moves me to where I'm sitting on his lap facing him. His words much like mine normally DRIPPING with power as each sentence pelts into me. Drilling into my core being, before becoming ingrained. He pulls his fingers out of me and replaces it with his cock hotdogged between my cheeks as he teases my hole.

"How are you feeling SLUT?!" He asks his hands back on my ass, I can feel the magic in him PULSE as my cheeks begin to feel WARM as they grow even bigger around his shaft. "Oh...oh DADDY, I'm..I'm so horny DADDY, my HOLE like, like NEEDS your cock daddy, please fuck me, fuck me silly" The words falling out of my mouth rapidly as I try to gyrate and grind against DADDY. His Cock, his Cum melting my brain further as he uses his new magics to make me his slutty good boi.

"oh I will SLUT, just two more changes then you can ride me the rest of the night" he smiles removing one of his hands from my ass, gently holding my chin. His face was so rugged and handsome even when he had a soft smile curling on his lips. "Any time you see a Cock, you will have to serve it. It will eat away at your brain and consume you until you've been fucked like the slut you are by it!" His words slam into me as I moan, his hand going from my chin to lightly grabbing my neck. Just enough to be firm without actually choking me. He starts bucking his hips into me causing me to fly up before crashing down. He does it again and again till he sends me high enough to where his cockhead finds my hole and slides in as I fall down. "And to make sure you can get it anytime someone sees your ass they are going to get so horny-straight or gay they'll be into you even if they don't realize it at first" He finishes saying.

He was talking so fast, making changes so rapidly so quickly one could only think, if they could think with out a mind numbing cock in them, that he was scared he was going to lose this power. As Daddy Fucked me I couldn't be concerned though. Daddy was so smart, so strong, so big he could do whatever he wanted. I threw my head back as he got faster, his balls, so big, so juicy underneath me began to tighten as I moaned riding his enlarging cock, words spilling more and more out of his mouth as he fucked me senseless they were lost in the moaning.

Time began to blur, my vision going white. My toes curling as I was so close, So close fuck just a little more, YESS DADDY more. I begged and begged until finally I felt his load and mine came after passing out.

-----

I woke up, covered in so much cum and sweat and disoriented that I didn't quite remember last night. I remembered changing into the powerbottom KOKSTRAP , I remembered Kevin DADDY fucking me till he turned fully gay. But as I got up and walked to the kitchen, my body feeling heavier in places like my chest and ass where they weren't before I tried to figure it out. Till I bumped into a wall of muscle in the kitchen.

"Look whose finally awake, Good morning SLUT!" His voice rang through the air as I felt my mind, and my hole PULSE. He reached down and groped his cock my eyes falling to meet it and more memories of last night FLASH through my head as I felt my knees automatically fall down "Good Morning DADDY!" My voice dumb and ditzy lisps out as he smirks down at me.

Happy birthday bro! As a gift, I'll become whatever you need most rn! Enjoy your day!!!

As your fingers left the keyboard you suddenly felt tired. Looking at yourself in the camera of your phone you saw your face get visibly older. Your dark hair began to shorten to a buzz, with more gray then color in it. Pounds started to pile onto your previously slender frame and a thick beard adorned your new square face.

Your mind raced. New sexual enterprises, business endeavors and investments had left your richer in more than one way. You looked back at your screen and saw the picture of your latest sugar baby. He was so cute, also it was his Birthday today. Better send him a few gifts.

hey! i always had the idea of someone who could se the read thread that links one people to another and could mess with them.

Bound to Desire

Jake had always been the worst kind of roommate—selfish, cocky, and lazy. He’d strut around the apartment shirtless, leaving his dirty laundry everywhere, eating my food without asking, and leaving a mess in the kitchen every time he cooked. Worst of all, Jake never hesitated to make snide, homophobic remarks, always reminding me where I stood in his world.

I hated him.

But no matter how much I despised his personality, I couldn’t deny that Jake’s body was something else. He was tall, with a muscular frame that seemed designed to be admired. His broad shoulders, thick pecs, and tight abs drew my eyes whenever he was around, even though I hated that I wanted to look. Every inch of him was sculpted and hard, his muscles flexing effortlessly as he moved. And then there was his musk—a subtle but earthy scent that clung to him after a long workout, something primal and raw that would linger in the air long after he left the room.

I hated that I wanted him. But now, I was going to change things.

I could see the red threads that connected people—the invisible lines that bound their fates. Jake’s thread to his girlfriend, Lauren, was strong and vibrant, but I was ready to cut it loose. I had waited long enough, and now it was time to pull on the strings and tighten the bond between Jake and me.

The changes started small.

At first, Jake would look at me differently—his eyes lingering on me when we crossed paths in the apartment. He started finding reasons to brush past me, his hand resting on my shoulder for just a second too long, his leg pressing against mine when we sat on the couch together. The tension between us grew thicker, the thread between us pulling tighter.

Then there was the way he started cleaning up after himself. Jake wasn’t the type to care about anyone else’s mess, but suddenly, he’d be wiping down the counters after making dinner or putting away the dishes without me even asking. One night, I found him cooking for both of us, setting a plate in front of me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re cooking for me now?” I teased, raising an eyebrow as he sat across from me.

“Just figured I’d help out,” he muttered, his eyes flicking to mine before quickly looking away. There was something uncertain in his tone, something he wasn’t ready to admit.

And then came the touches.

One night, we were playing video games on the couch when Jake reached over and grabbed me, pulling me into a rough hug. His bare chest pressed against my back, his solid muscles firm beneath my hands as he laughed, the sound deep and easy. His arm lingered around my shoulders longer than it needed to, his body warm and close, and for a moment, I didn’t move. I just let it happen, feeling the heat of him, the weight of his body leaning into mine.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he muttered, but there was an awkwardness to his voice, like he wasn’t sure why he had done it.

The tension between us kept building after that. Jake didn’t just touch me casually anymore—he was always finding reasons to get closer. He’d sit beside me on the couch, his bare skin brushing against mine, his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa. He’d accidentally brush his hand against mine when passing me something, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Then one day, after a workout, Jake did something that caught me completely off guard. He had just come back from the gym, shirtless and sweaty, his muscles gleaming under the apartment lights. His broad chest and tight abs flexed as he reached into the fridge for a water bottle. He cracked open the cap and took a long swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank, the veins in his forearm standing out.

I watched him from the corner of my eye, the air thick with the faint scent of his sweat, a subtle but heady mix that made my head swim. And then, as he walked past me, Jake leaned down and kissed me—just a quick, absent-minded peck on the cheek—before heading to his room without saying a word.

I stood there, stunned, my heart racing. It had been so casual, like it hadn’t even registered for him. But I knew what it meant. Jake was falling for me, and he didn’t even realize it yet.

The final break came one night after Jake had a fight with Lauren. He came home late, his jaw clenched, his muscles tense, the air around him electric with frustration. He didn’t say anything at first, just stormed into the living room, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

“Everything alright?” I asked, watching him carefully.

Jake stopped and turned to face me, his broad chest heaving with every breath. His eyes were full of confusion, anger, and something else—something he wasn’t ready to admit. “I’m fucking done with her,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “I’m done.”

“Lauren?”

“Yeah,” Jake snapped, running a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “But it’s not just her… I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

I stayed silent, waiting.

Jake took a step closer, his eyes locking with mine. “I’ve been thinking about you. All the fucking time,” he said, his voice shaking. “I can’t stop.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and full of meaning. I finally pulled the thread between us, snapping Laurens and sealing our fates.

And then, before I could react, Jake closed the distance between us. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me against him, and his lips crashed into mine, hard and full of raw passion. The moment his mouth touched mine, everything else disappeared—there was only him, only the overwhelming heat of his body pressed against me, his muscles flexing under my hands as I grabbed onto him.

His scent hit me all at once—thick, rich, and intoxicating. The faint saltiness of sweat, mixed with something primal and deeply masculine. It wasn’t just a smell; it was a presence, a physical force that filled the space between us, wrapping around me, pulling me deeper into him. Every breath I took was full of his musk, and it made my pulse quicken, my head swim.

I kissed him back, harder, my hands exploring every inch of him. I could feel the solid weight of his chest, the hard ridges of his abs, each muscle flexing beneath my fingers as I ran my hands over him. His skin was warm, slick with a faint sheen of sweat, and the heat radiating off him was almost overwhelming.

Jake groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping my hips tighter, pulling me even closer. I could feel his hard cock pressing against me through his shorts, thick and throbbing with need. The heat of him was impossible to ignore—it was like his entire body was buzzing with energy, with lust.

I broke the kiss, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and trailed my lips down his neck, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin as I kissed my way lower. His musk was stronger now, filling my lungs with every breath, and it made me dizzy, like I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Fuck…” Jake groaned, his hands sliding up to tangle in my hair as I kissed down his chest, my tongue flicking out to taste the sweat that clung to his skin. His pecs were solid, firm under my lips, and I worshipped them, running my hands over his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed and tightened beneath my touch.

I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted to taste every inch of him, to feel every muscle, every ridge of his body under my hands.

“Yeah… keep going,” Jake murmured, his voice thick with desire, his hands guiding me lower. His breath hitched as I trailed my lips down his abs, my tongue flicking over the tight ridges of muscle. He was perfect—solid and strong, every inch of him screaming power and control, and I couldn’t help but worship him.

I sank to my knees in front of him, my hands trailing down his thick thighs, feeling the power in every inch of his body. His cock was straining against his shorts, thick and heavy, the outline of it pressing against the fabric. I could already see the bulge, already imagine what it would feel like in my mouth.

I reached up, my hands trembling slightly as I tugged down his shorts, and his cock sprang free—thick, veiny, and already dripping with precum. The sight of it made my mouth water. His cock was massive, hard and throbbing, the veins standing out along the length, the head swollen and glistening.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush against the base of his cock, and Jake groaned, his hands tightening in my hair. “Fuck… yeah,” he breathed, his voice low and gravelly.

I licked a slow line up his shaft, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin, the bitterness of his precum lingering on my tongue as I reached the tip. The taste of him was overwhelming, and it sent a shiver through me, making me moan softly against him.

His cock was so thick, it stretched my lips as I took him into my mouth, the weight of him heavy on my tongue, the heat of his cock pulsing in time with his racing heart. I sucked him slowly, deliberately, savoring every inch, every vein that pressed against the roof of my mouth as I took him deeper.

Jake’s hips jerked slightly, and he groaned, his hands guiding me as I sucked him. His cock throbbed with need, the bitterness of his precum coating my tongue, and I could feel the way his body responded to every stroke, every flick of my tongue.

“You’re doing so good…” Jake murmured, his voice rough, but affectionate. His hand tightened in my hair, and he gently pushed me deeper, guiding me until his thick shaft was pressing against the back of my throat. The feeling of him stretching me, filling me completely, made my head spin, and I moaned around him, sending a shudder through his entire body.

“Fuck, just like that…” Jake groaned, his muscles flexing as he started to move his hips, his cock pulsing in my mouth with every thrust.

The taste of him was everywhere—salty, musky, bitter—and I couldn’t get enough. His cock was so thick, so hard, and every time he pushed deeper, I could feel the veins along the length throbbing against my tongue. I wanted more. I wanted to taste everything he had to give me.

Jake groaned, his entire body tensing as his cock swelled in my mouth, the bitterness of his precum growing stronger. “Fuck… I’m close,” he gasped, his voice strained as he started to thrust harder, deeper, his cock hitting the back of my throat with every movement.

I could feel the tension building in his body, every muscle flexing, his cock throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. His balls tightened, pulling up against his body, and I knew he was seconds away from release.

And then, with a deep, guttural moan, Jake came. His entire body stiffened, his cock pulsing hard as he exploded in my mouth, thick, hot ropes of cum shooting down my throat. The taste of him was overwhelming—salty, thick, and rich—and I swallowed as fast as I could, desperate to take everything he gave me.

He kept cumming, his cock throbbing and pulsing, each spurt filling my mouth with more of his hot, thick load. I could feel it slide down my throat, feel the way it coated my tongue, the taste of him lingering, heavy and salty. It felt like it would never stop—each pulse of his cock bringing another wave of thick cum.

Jake groaned, his hands still tight in my hair as he rode out his orgasm, his cock twitching with the aftershocks. His muscles flexed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and I kept sucking him, milking every last drop from him until he finally pulled me back.

I looked up at him, my mouth still slick with his cum, his cock still throbbing softly between us. His eyes were heavy-lidded, filled with satisfaction and something deeper—something affectionate.

Jake’s hand slid from my hair to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek as he leaned down, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I love you.”

I was on a morning jog when this ass hat didn't just bump into me, but he fucking called me a FAGGOT under his breath. The audacity of some of these douchebags will never cease to amaze me. So if he has the audacity to be rude and homophobic in public, then I think he should be good giving everyone on the trail a show.

"What was that BRO?! I don't think I heard you right!" I ask, turning to face his back as he stops in place. His body shivering as my words dance through the air and pelt into his skin.

"Don't Bro me fairy, you heard what I said!" He says looking back at me. I can see he tries to turn away, continue his jog, that raised eyebrow of confusion as his body stops registering his control. As he can't help but stay so he can hang on to EVERY WORD I have to say.

"Nah, you are a BRO though, you're my good BRO. Such a good BRO that I think it's a little HOT out here BRO. You should strip out of those stuffy clothes BRO. Gotta show off those GAINS for the STUDS am I right?!" My voice layering my magics rapidly onto him. As each BRO sends a shock to his body, I can see sweat drip down his brow as his beanie turns into a baseball cap.

"I..it's HOT out...str..strip for the STUDS... No what are you... I'm ..not Gay.. I lik...Girls...strip for the... STUDS!" He's panting as he shimmies his legs out of his sweatpants, his legs bulging as muscle and a layer of fat GROW from years of leg day all packed into one day PULSE through him. His calves like an ancient Grecian statue, his thighs beautifully thick and strong, and his ass bubbling out causing his underwear to strain. The magic shifting his underwear as his boxers' fabric breaks down and the elastic rearranges itself till he's wearing a slutty jockstrap.

His face scrunches, his mind racing as he tries to hold onto his personality. His prejudice is the first thing I eviscerate from his mind before stripping him of his audacity and coldness. The next is his inconsiderate nature and superiority complex, he wouldn't need that as whatever little intelligence and individuality he has gets washed away leaving a vulnerable man.

He pulls at his hoodie, the magic doing it's job as he feels the NEED to strip in public. As he lifts it up revealing his new slimming waist and his abdominals flex, a cobbled stone road leading to a gorgeous shelf of pecs. His heart is racing as he manages to remove it without taking the cap with it. His arms feeling up his body as his biceps bulged with power, veins popping.

He looks at me blank as I walk up to him silently, his eyes glazed as I slowly turn the cap backwards. Each movement making him hornier and hornier. His mind tries to imagine women, his favorite traits, his old kinks but each time he thinks of them they pop like bubbles. His cock starts hardening in his jockstrap as he giggles, the images of men, all shapes, sizes, positions and color. An exhibition kink taking root that will never leave as memories of cruising become permanently embedded in his mind

"How ya feeling BRO?" I ask looking at this glazed eyed HIMBO.

He smirks, moving towards one of the rest stop walls nearby, placing his hands against the wall. "Feeling empty Bro, mind filling me up before I finish my run!" He guffaws slapping his ass and wiggling his needy cheeks at me.

Safe to say he won't be hurting anyone on this jogging trail anytime soon.

The Reliable Father Bod

In the softly lit dressing room of the Target store, you stare into the mirror, watching as the body you’ve just stepped into reflects back at you. The change happened so suddenly, as if you’d been sucked into his form, and now you feel every inch of him—broad, muscular, and powerfully built. This body isn’t just strong; it radiates the energy of a man in his prime. A father, no doubt, but not one who has let himself go. Instead, this man has the perfect “dad bod”—a solid core, broad chest, defined arms, and just enough thickness to feel grounded.

Your gaze is drawn to the intricate full sleeve tattoo that wraps around his left arm. It’s a stunning work of art, a blend of swirling tribal patterns, fierce animals, and meaningful symbols that tell a story of strength and resilience. Each detail seems alive, moving with the muscle as he flexes. The ink is dark, contrasting against his Asian skin, giving him an air of ruggedness and rebellion, yet also an undeniable depth—each mark a testament to experiences and battles fought. You feel an instant connection to it, as if the tattoo is not just decoration but a part of the legacy you now inhabit.

As you stretch, the cotton of his shirt pulls tight against his chest, hugging his body in a way that draws attention to his size and masculinity. But you know you can enhance this form. With a swift decision, you head out of the dressing room and make your way to the men’s clothing section.

You quickly spot a sleek black shirt, the fabric soft yet form-fitting, perfectly accentuating his broad shoulders and muscular build. You can already envision how it will look against the full sleeve tattoo—how the dark color will make the ink pop, giving him an even more striking appearance. You grab it without hesitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of transforming his look.

After purchasing the shirt, you slip back into the dressing room, feeling a spark of anticipation. The change is exhilarating. As you peel off his old shirt, you revel in the feeling of this strong body, the firm muscles flexing with every motion. You pull the black shirt over his head, feeling the fabric stretch and mold around his torso, clinging perfectly to his physique. The full arm sleeve in all its glory is showcased, allowing it to revel out like a badge of honor. The way the shirt hugs his arms and chest makes you feel empowered, almost invincible.

As you admire your reflection, the sleek black shirt contrasts beautifully with his ink, adding an edge to the rugged charm of this dad bod. The fitted look draws attention to his virility, enhancing the aura of confidence that radiates from within. You can’t help but smile as you flex your arms, appreciating how this new style aligns with your own aesthetic—masculine, strong, and undeniably appealing.

You glance once more at the reflection in the mirror, appreciating the solid, commanding figure. There’s an undeniable sense of control, of purpose that comes with this body—a body that knows its strength, knows its power. The tattoo spirals down his arm, symbolizing a journey, perhaps of fatherhood, courage, or love, and it feels like a call to action. As you leave the dressing room, his stride becomes your own, the confidence in this transformation fueling your every step. The knowledge that you now inhabit this form sends a thrill through you. Strong. Masculine. And undeniably horny.

As you walk out of the dressing room, the sensation of power in every stride feels intoxicating. The bulk of his muscular dad bod fills every step with purpose and dominance. You can feel the hungry eyes of others briefly glancing your way, captivated by the raw masculinity radiating from this body. A smirk creeps onto your face as you realize the full extent of your influence now.

Sliding into a corner booth at a nearby café, you pull out his phone. The screen flickers on, showing a mundane collection of apps—social media, messages, work emails. But it’s time for something different. You scroll through the app store, and with the effortless tap of a finger, you download Grindr. The thrill of this moment pulses through you, knowing that this body—a symbol of raw, unfiltered strength and masculine energy—is about to step into a new domain.

As the app finishes installing, you open it, feeling the familiar rush of excitement. You set up his profile with deliberate care, showcasing his thick arms, broad chest, and dashing, rugged features. You can feel the weight of his virility as you compose a bio that conveys dominance and confidence without saying too much—just enough to attract the perfect guys who crave the powerful presence he exudes.

Messages begin rolling in almost instantly. Guys of all types—athletic, younger, lean, muscular—can’t help but be drawn to this man who embodies the ideal mix of rugged good looks and seasoned strength. The attention makes your pulse quicken, the command of this body only heightening the thrill. The power dynamic is clear: they want you, and you control the outcome. You feel the surge of dominance, not just over your own body but over the desires of others, and it feels like pure electricity running through your veins.

As you swipe through profiles, you know exactly what you want. Strong, handsome guys who would appreciate not only the size and prowess of this body but its commanding presence. A primal satisfaction blooms within you—the idea of shaping their experience, guiding their desire, all while knowing you have the physicality to back it up.

You settle on a few who catch your eye, sending messages that are direct and assertive, confident they’ll respond eagerly. As they do, the night stretches ahead of you, filled with endless possibilities. You stand up, feeling the comfortable weight of his dad sneakers on your feet and the strength in his muscles. This body, this life, now fully yours to command—virile, potent, and ready to take whatever you desire.

With a final glance at your reflection in the café’s window, you can’t help but smile. You are in complete control, fully aware of the magnetic pull you now have. The night belongs to you, and so does the thrill of the hunt. You message your wife that you will be out with the boys. Family can wait and grindr is just the beginning.

Sticky Fingers

Junpei finds himself drawn to sneak an early peak at Arcadio Carvajal's new exhibition. When the chance to take a piece home presents itslef, he'll find himself a little more than changed from the experience.

My first sequel! Arcadio from Marichismo decides to take the chance to find a new assistant and lover! In other don't forget to vote on my Viral Transformation poll, ends Sunday! Otherwise enjoy this tale of muscle growth and otherwise masculine changes! -Occam

Junpei can’t believe that he somehow hadn’t heard about this art exhibition until just now. Like many a young thirsty gay across the country he does well to keep a tab on the illustrious (Read: Hot) work of Arcadio Carvajal. Many institutions are a little hesitant to host an artist whose name may well be synonymous with sexual provocateur but, with attendance numbers down across the board, even more museums are thrilled at the chance to host a man who almost magically draws in hordes of adoring patrons.

His latest exhibition on homoeroticism in popular culture is setting attendance records at just about every museum it stops at. Junpei was beyond thrilled when his friend Corey leaked that the gallery he works at was going to be hosting an exhibition of Arcadio’s starting tomorrow! Ignoring any concerns as to how odd it is that he’s not heard anything about the opening until the night before, Junpei grabs his backpack and makes for the gallery immediately, almost as if possessed. Something in his chest flutters with anticipation as he wanders the few blocks down to the hall where he’ll hopefully be able to sneak an early peek of some of the works on display. 

Making the trip down a few blocks with haste he finds  there’s surprisingly little activity at all in or around the gallery. Sure it’s after hours but the night before an opening, let alone an opening by an artist as impressive as Arcadio Carvajal? You’d think there would be some last minute prep work to be done. Skulking up to nonchalantly look through the front door, he puts his weight on it just as a little test. Just to see if it's locked, no overt plans as to what he would do with the information, he just wanted to know. Just wanted to see.

When the door gives, he can’t suppress the grin rising on his lips. In for a penny, he decides. Fighting to keep his expression guiltless he surreptitiously looks around to make sure no one’s watching the entrance before he sneaks into the dark hall. He tries to scheme up an alibi as he digs out his phone to use as a flashlight. Probably wouldn’t buy that he thought they were open. Could just say he was supposed to meet his friend here, though he’d hate for Corey to catch blowback. Junpei then rolls his eyes as he figures he could come up with something on the spot, if he’s even caught that is! Adrenaline keeps his conspiratorial mind from noticing he of course already has been, as the gallery’s cameras follow the young student into the exhibition hall holding Arcadio’s exciting exhibit.

The amateur intruder almost has a heart attack as he steps into the gallery proper and the lights flash on. Stumbling into a wall in shock, he ducks behind a display case and nervously scopes out the new space he finds himself in. After quietly ensuring that no one is actively here, Junpei chalks the lights up to be automatic and hastens his pace. Switching off his now unneeded flashlight, he starts scoping out the litany of artwork dedicated to the male form surrounding him.

His excitement eclipses whatever paltry dregs of anxiety or fear remain as he sees the works of incredibly influential artists gathered here. Junpei knew Arcadio was a titan but he could never have expected the prolific art that fills this place. First things first, as he enters he sees a diptych of the artist himself, under his breath he murmurs, “god he’s so fucking hot.” Somewhere out of sight surveillance footage shines onto a man watching him explore the gallery as he mischievously smirks.

On the student’s left are a wall of nudes and more softcore fare from artists across the ages. Mizers and Mapplethorpes hang floor to ceiling alongside more modern work by Arcadio and his own gay contemporaries. Near the far side there seems to be a whole section dedicated to portraiture of St. Sebastian but Junpei is less eager to explore the thorough history of homoerotic photography. Certainly a medium that has brought him endless pleasure, as it were, but they may as well just be prints to him. No, he wants to see the real stuff.

Wandering past some dozen miniature recreations of Michaelangelo’s David made of shining plasticine latex, some clad in leather, others in the buff as the artist intended, Junpei finds what he snuck in for. Spotlights shine down unto the wall opposite the photography, teeming with works from gay trailblazers of the art world. Namely the ones whose primary focus was on nothing but bulging fetishistic muscle and strong-jawed pretty boys. Those who crafted overt unapologetic pornography and others who snuck homoeroticism covertly to the masses. This is to say there is more work by Tom of Finland and Leyendecker than he could possibly appreciate in this brief time alone. 

He spends as long as he thinks he can just staring at the work. Drinking in the graphite scraped bulges and tight leather uniforms of the massive men drawn by the Finn. Reverberations from his work still echo into the art and lusty imaginations of countless gay men today. Indeed upon gracing dear Junpei’s eyes they immediately cause some mobility issues to arise. He struggles with his pants as he struggles to walk forward with a package that only surges harder with each fervent tug of his pants. His rising issue stops not as he moves on to observe the bright colors and hungry eyes of the men in Leyendecker’s advertisements. Masculine forms idealized and gleaming opposed with the raw heightened sex found in the work nearby. Junpei can barely control the desire coursing through him, but knowing he can’t stay forever the young man continues onward, biting his lip as he tries to will his boner away. 

Going through a curtain into a still darkened room, it takes a second for Junpei’s eyes to adjust before he sees a room dedicated to non-western homoeroticism. Finding aged Chinese scrolls of gay eroticism he snaps pictures, quite thankful that they are less visceral arousing than the work he just left behind, though he’s decidedly happy to see some shred of himself in the gallery. Turning around he gasps as he sees something he wasn’t quite expecting. Next to a wall of more deliberately pornographic bara men he sees panels from his favorite mangaka depicting bulging muscled men in provocative poses. But more thrilling than that, it seems the main sketch isn’t in a display case. It’s just sitting there, loose, free.

Junpei doesn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t even planning on coming in illicitly, but staring at the crisp art in front of him he cannot stop himself as he pulls a folder from his backpack. Before he can even issue a command to his body, the sketch is already in his bag and he’s sprinting away. The smirk of the man watching his every move grows wider as he watches Junpei clumsily flee the scene. Fleeing out the door into the dark streets, Junpei pushes past other students thoughtlessly as he races home, delirium setting in as struggles to understand and realize what he just did. Slamming his apartment door behind him he yoinks out the swiped art. He isn’t sure if it’s the image itself or the exhilaration from his crime but his only recently stilled cock begins to harden once more. 

Mind barely present what can he do but obey his rising erection. Junpei begins to masturbate, staring at his stolen artwork, panting as he quickly comes close; free hand moving thoughtlessly he feels it scrape against something taped to the back of the sketch. Eyebrows furrowing as he continues to beat his meat, Junpei turns the picture around and he instantly stops as his blood grows cold. “Evening Junpei. I know what you did. See you Soon. Yours, Arcadio Carvajal.” Junpei drops the drawing and it flutters to the floor, lying face down, leaving the note facing up at him. His mind escapes from whatever haze compelled him to commit larceny as his thoughts race faster than could possibly be productive. 

What do I do? I need to bring it back now. How did that note get there!? It certainly has my name on it, and it’s signed by Arcadio. Fear seizes him as he backs away from the stolen piece, tripping over the pants that had fallen around his ankles. In his scrambling he falls back and hits his head. Before he completely loses himself to unconsciousness he sees the picture purloined face up once more. Groaning as his vision begins to fade, his eyes latch onto his legs as searing pain slowly burns through him. Cresting into a trancelike state he mumbles incoherently as it almost seems like veins are bulging onto his thighs?

Perhaps unsurprising given the prominence of Arcadio in what lead him into this stupor, but as he’s truly overtaken Junpei sees the massive artist himself. The man’s arms are crossed but the expression on his face is not one of judgment or disdain at Junpei’s actions. Rather, to the best of the young man’s judgment, it looks like one of anticipation. Junpei tries to speak but finds his mouth dry up as the man across from him waves a finger, “Ah ah ah mi ladrónito. I believe you have something of mine.” The eponymous little thief pats himself down trying to dream his plunder into existence but produces naught. Arcadio pouts his lips but there is a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Well perrito. For your little transgression I think you owe me, si? Think I could use some more hands on deck to watch out for petty thieves, don’t you?” Arcadio’s expression loses all the performative animosity that remains as he looks at Junpei with glee and his intentions begin to suffuse the young man. Feeling his ability to speak return, Junpei opens his mouth but before he can produce a word he is wracked with burning pain from the artist's stare.

Beginning from his feet, clad in the cheap tennis shoes that he wore to his haphazard heist, heat sears the soles of his feet. At first it’s as if he’s standing on coals before simmering down to the pain of sprinting across a hot beach; finally it shifts to the pleasant warmth of a warm footbath. Pain swiftly gives way to pleasure as Junpei flexes his feet just to ensure he feels every sensation he can, only then does he feel his toes bump against the front of the small shoe, just as the bridge of his foot strains against the tongue. Junpei grunts as he hears stitches begin to give way, toes blasting through the cheap fabric while his soles rear through the sides and spill onto the floor as his feet totally eclipse the remains of his shoe.

Looking down at feet that may as well need clown shoes compared to the petit ones he’s always had, Junpei feels some new instinct in his mind. Almost like an intrusive thought, he feels a need to be brash, to spar with the man he so respects more than anything. Ignoring his usual nature he follows this instinct, it’s just a dream right? Fighting through the pain and pleasure still coursing through him, Junpei speaks up, “Grgh- What are you- Are you giving me a foot fetish or what?” Arcadio’s face lights with a smile as he hears the young man speak up with the slightest amount of acid on his tongue. With no words to betray his emotion at the seed of Junpei’s changing psyche he moves his eyes up to Junpei’s legs.

“Oh what the fu-” he’s unable to even finish the thought as his whole body convulses with the sensation of his legs lengthening before they start to pack on muscle. Shooting almost a foot higher, Junpei falls back on his ass as he clenches at his calves and thighs. His gaze follows Arcadio’s as the man stares at his tight calves, expanding with each pulse of the heart. Just like every other inch of Junpei’s body there’s initially little at all impressive, and then they flex larger, and then there's a bulge that will never leave, and then there is a calf that would inspire jealousy by any lesser men who glimpses it. More than baseballs, muscle bulges enough for even socks large enough for his massive feet would struggle to contain them. This is nothing however compared to the transformation moving upwards into his thighs. 

Veins bulge thick as power seeps upwards, burning warmth sears his hands as they clutch at the hocks of meat that now constitute his thighs. Junpei blushes as he sees new distinct masses bulge out of his once bony thighs. Staring down at his increasingly powerful lower body he is filled with determination to get them even larger. The need for power begins to wash over whatever ideals or needs the young man had before this dream. Seeing the thick veins clearly pump and bulge larger with each beat of his heart, Junpei traces them with his finger and bites his lip as Arcadio can’t help but stare at the growing package that demands attention from the both of them.

Arcadio is more than pleased to stare, each second spent lingering on the cock sends waves of pleasure through Junpei as his mind struggles to parse that his cock and balls are stretching larger by the second. Quickly surging higher and thicker, his dick eclipses the size its been at its most turgid erection before now and it still pushes further with each groping grasp and sweaty breath. Similarly, beneath it his balls hang lower and the few dark hairs that shade his groin grow thicker and curl longer as his heavy balls rapidly increase production of the hormones this increasingly massive body demands. He cannot help but thrust into the air, his thin arms struggling to support the power his thighs summon. Landing back on his ass it too bulges larger with every flexing movement, quickly regaining its position as the largest muscle on the body as it becomes a bubble butt that would entice even the least male-interested eyes.

Moving on, lest Junpei blow his load all over himself, Arcadio's eyes continue upward to begin the most impressive work yet. Junpei groans as he desperately needs a break from the overwhelming pleasure burning in his lower body. He drags his hands across his inner thigh,  feeling callouses scratch his sensitive sweaty skin before palming his cock to a spurt of pre before moving on. His fingers trace towards his torso as veins begin to trail upwards, crossing his abs as they bulge into existence.

His body involuntarily goes into a crunch as every powerful ab cramps, sending stabbing pain and searing pleasure through his mind. Drool flings out of his mouth as he launches forward moaning. Junpei’s rougher hands grab his beefy thighs to prevent himself from falling backwards once again. His eyes almost cross as he seemingly loses control of any unengaged motor function. Across from him Arcadio just smirks and watches as Junpei’s sweat soaked hair changes from the same unintentional look he’s had all his life into something far more deliberate and fashionable. Exactly what he would want in a body man.

Hearing the strained groans and hungrily looking to the ephemeral expression dancing across Junpei’s face, Arcadio hesitates before continuing. Feeling the briefest of pauses from otherworldly bliss, Junpei cries out, his voice rumbling deeper as he finds his neck has thickened, “Mrgh- Don’t stop boss. I want, more.” The artist’s lips twitch as he is more than happy to obey the thief’s desires. After all, it's about time to get to his favorite part. At the same time Junpei’s mind flickers to the massive pecs that he so enjoyed observing at the museum as he begins to feel building pressure, increasing potential, on his chest.

Summoning a laser focus, Arcadio stares at Junpei’s arms and currently non existent pecs. He has trouble ignoring the bulge dawning in his own pants as he sees Junpei’s stick thin arms begin to bulk up. Immediately his arms fly behind him as he rapidly alternates between stretching them and flexing. With each thrust away from his body into the air they lengthen, fingertips shoot longer as his palms widen. With every bulging flex veins are forced to protrude even further through his faultless skin. His biceps may as well be forged of cast iron as they become impossible to ignore, power courses through them as from now on even the smallest movement causes a medley of muscle to dance across his beastly arms.

In between his bulging biceps, above the cobblestone abs, underneath shoulders still widening and taps pushing against a shirt that barely holds on, his pecs finally begin to receive the attention they have always lacked. Junpei’s nipples increase from the dimesize they’ve ever held into half-dollar protrusions that will be impossible to hide under a shirt. Similarly, the measly pecs they stand strong on begin to grow at a rate more prominent than any change so far. 

The sound of Junpei’s shirt giving way to muscle he couldn’t truly fathom before now burgeoning onto his chest overwhelms him more than he could ever know. In the moment of them bursting larger than life, he feels himself let loose of whatever restraining fragments of his past self remain. He wasn’t sure what caused him to take the sketch from the gallery, but Arcadio knew he would. Arcadio Carvajal, his boss, clearly had more planned for him than Junpei ever could imagine. As his pecs bloat beyond reason and he feels his chest pulse with power does he give himself totally over to become the perfect, powerful man that not for a moment in his life he thought he could become. 

His body shines with sweat as he finally loses control, loosing load after load into the white dreamscape around him. He opens his mouth to cry Arcadio’s name but before a sound could release he finds his godly body pressing up against one of the few men he considers an equal. His new burning muscled form grinds against that of Arcadio. Getting his sweat all over his boss, his lover, his best friend, Junpei smirks in between labored breaths and slobbered kisses. Somehow feeling the scratch of Arcadio’s chest through his shirt the new body man can’t help but frot against the artist’s torso.

Shoving his bearded face into Junpei’s neck, which certainly doesn’t help matters, Arcadio moves his scratchy mouth to his lover’s ear and whispers, “Me esperas… See you soon mi amor.” Seeding desire more potent than anything, every bulging muscle clenches and forces itself larger one last time. Every inch of his impossibly large, inhumanly powerful new form sizzles with the capacity for more pleasure than could ever be bestowed upon him before. Junpei will evermore dominate any room he decides to grace. He will do so physically and intangibly with an aura that exudes strength and entices the appetites of all, though perhaps that due to constantly sweating through any clothing or deodorant he throws on within an hour. 

Feeling emptiness fill him as Arcadio disappears from his dream after whispering in his ear, the now massive man has no recourse besides willing himself to wake up. And so he does.

Junpei wakes up on the floor of the apartment he’s been renting with Arcadio in the leadup to their new exhibition, for some reason the back of his head is sore as if he hit it. Though that’s nothing compared to the soreness that absolutely fills every last inch of his body. The giant groans as he wills his titanic upper body to sit up and smirks as he sees the sweat he must have just worked up. Scratching his pits and struggling not to sniff his hand after, his head briefly filled with countless memories of Arcadio chiding his poor hygiene, he hesitates before noticing some expensive paper lying on the ground. 

Tilting his head and grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the sweat almost dripping from his hand, he takes great care to grab whatever this is without getting too much of himself on it. Turning it around he’s floored to see a sketch that’s supposed to be on the museum wall right now, worse than that it’s from an area that Arcadio has left to him! Taking no time at all to question how this possibly ended up here, Junpei puts it in one of Arcadio’s artsafe folders and sprints down the street to the gallery. 

For being the assistant of such a fastidious man, Junpei has a habit of letting things slip through the cracks, but Arcadio never minds. He knows in the end Junpei will always more than make up for it, always aiming to go above and beyond and, somehow, more often than not exceeding what Arcadio even thought was possible. Entering the gallery the behemoth switches into the closest thing to a sneak that he can muster, unfortunately his massive clumsy feet would always betray his presence. His lover smiles as he hears Junpei’s failed covert operation.

Standing in front of the frame that is supposed to hold the piece that Junpei is now overtly returning, he turns with a sly smirk to see the man doing his best impression of a cat burglar. Arcadio rolls his eyes and goes to grab the folder, lest his lover get his streaming sweat onto it and create an awkward situation with the mangaka. After depositing in where it belongs and shutting it into a plastic case that was conspicuously absent earlier Arcadio returns his attention to Junpei who now looks around the gallery in wonder at what they have crafted together.

Arcadio’s grin grows wider with every step towards Junpei, nearing close enough to kiss, he stands tall and the two enjoy each other’s passion for the first time in reality. Though as Junpei’s deific form clearly demonstrates, what is real doesn’t matter all too much at all. Arcadio doesn’t quite understand the whims of the world he exists in and he’s pretty confident given enough time he won’t even remember being the impetus for his lover’s changes. In fact, as he stands in the arms of Junpei, memories already begin filling his mind of their years together that are as real as anything. Looking around he sees a room full of decisions they made together, body man he may be but the two of them are more than equals. Breaking away from the kiss, he sniffs the air and steps back from Junpei.

Arcadio looks at Junpei’s puppy dog eyes and ruffles his short hair, “Now go take a shower, perrito. Opening is in two hours and you stink, mi amor.” Junpei looks down at himself in shock, somehow forgetting the cold sweat covering his clothes and nods fervently before sprinting back out the door. The two lovers remain on each other's minds as they go about preparing for opening day. Ever but a thought away and always eager for the next moment that they will have alone together. 

He was so sure when he got me into his room he had all the power. I mean look at those muscles, the silver chain, the tattoos, facial hair and just genuine confidence and swagger. Of course this masculine beefcake wanted to be in control because he was used to it. Oh how he was in for a shock, I was hungry and I was going to get what I came for.

It had been a long night, I hadn't scored anyone in a few days and I was desperate. None of my normals were around and people seemed to be more cautious this time of year with HALLOWS EVE so close. Even people who didn't believe in "ghost stories" or the "things that go bump in the night" kept their distance. So I went to another bar and had some bad luck till I ran across him. His name was Brett something, drunk beyond belief, his bros who didn't know he was playing for the other team had just left and I hadn't made any obvious signs of noticing him.

He circled me like prey before swaggering in next to my stool, taking up my personal space. He had started off with some stupid line, it was a neg "You know I don't normally go for Twinky Femmes, but DAMN your ass!" Whistling at the end. God my standards were low tonight. I giggled and blushed a little, enough to let him think I was disarmed. "Aww what's a tall handsome man like you doing alone at the bar!" I say, bringing the putrid decayed fruit drink to my plump lips. Long ago had the the sweet taste and fun of alcohol been taken from me.

Brett looked me up and down, my pale skin shimmering in the bars neon lights, my pink, mesh croptop barely covering my lithe, tone torso and my 3 inch inseam shorts clinging to my bubble butt so well it might as well had been painted on over the jockstrap I wore. He moved his hand to the top of my hair caressing one of my blonde curls as he said "I could say the same thing about the Sexy cute twink at the bar instead of the dance floor"

His hand traveled from my hair to the base of my neck where he could easily step closer and I'd be forced to not only see his flexing muscles, but also have to smell his musky scent. It made my nose flare and eyes dilate, maybe he was perfect for this after all!

"Well maybe I wanted to save my energy for a hunky man like you!" I say leaning into him, my head basically laying face first against his pecs and taking a whiff. I looked up at him, I could see that cocky smirk as his hand stayed right on me, firmly. His cock which at this point was straining against his denim pants was right at my stomach. I needed to seal the deal I was so close, as I looked up at him I made eye contact, and as I did mine FLASHED a beautiful gold and quickly Brett's did the same.

He didn't waste any time, he put his card down for the bar tender paying for my drinks before taking me home. My little CHARM sped up any interaction as long as the man was already interested and I don't know if could have waited any longer at that bar before needing him inside me.

So here we were in his room, after making out through his buildings elevator my teeth nibbling on his lips and slightly on his neck, hallway and through both doors of his apartment. Brett's face was already flush, he had already discarded his shirt on the living room, now he was ripping his pants off till he sat down, legs spread in just his boxers. His face so cocky so sure.

"Come on, no need to be scared, Brett Jr doesn't bite, suck it!" His voice sultry, not understanding the irony in the words.

"Trust me I want to SUCK you so bad! I also don't mind BITTING!" I say his smell, his body driving me wild. My feet thinking for me taking me in-between his legs, my hands gently massaging his chest as I feel my knees bend. My dick sucking lips meeting his, a moan of satisfaction and almost disappointment as they leave and travel down his jaw, then neck, collarbone and over his gorgeous chest then abs. His hands stripping me of my clothes the entire time. Grabbing at my flesh with comments thrown in about how he'd warm me right up since I felt so COLD

His cock was tenting his boxers so much he might as well have just called it a tent. The front of it is leaking, staining the plaid fabric forever. I was on my knees when I saw he tried to shove my face in but with another FLASH of gold his hand went lower and SLAPPED my gorgeous bubble butt.

I lowered his underwear, his meat slapping against his abs then my face, his prescum smearing across my lips as I began to kiss his cock head. My tongue licking around before sliding up and down his eager shaft, my eyes locking with his. Not a bad length, maybe 6 or 7 inches, I thought, surely it wouldnt last me as long as the others did but it would do something. His breathing was already heavy as one of my hands cupped his balls while the other moved up his leg to his abs then began to tweak his chest. His hands tried to move me further down his dick, trying to grab me by the back of the head grunting.

His grunts were deep and heavy as I slowly slipped my lips up and down his shaft, never letting his fuckstick leave my lips, my hands working his body making him needier as he got to the back of my mouth and down my throat. As more and more of his precum entered me I could hear his grunts turn to whines. His leg muscles that framed my lithe body began to shake, as they tensed I could feel them shrink ever so slightly. His arms were flailing as his mountainous biceps began to shrink to toned hills. 

His balls were tightening/rising up as his pillowy pecs began to sink into his chest becoming flat as a board, his abs began to smooth over as his waist and shoulders narrowed. His eyes were wide as they stared at me in FEAR and PLEASURE, his face softening becoming oh so cute as he began to moan wildly. He was wailing, saying he was close and even though at this point he knew if he cum it was going to be the point of no return he begged for me to keep going.

His masculinity was all stored up in those delicious balls and as I deepthroated his cock, my face firmly planted at the base of his now clean shaven crotch, both of our eyes wide and glowing gold as he fired shot after shot. Each load shot directly down my throat and I could feel my body PULSE with it. My shoulders widened, my chest becoming beautiful pillowy pecs, my biceps and forearms bulging with strength as my hands became beefier, I could feel Brett’s cock getting smaller as my abs, hips and thighs filled out becoming so delicious looking anyone would want to take a BITE. Brett’s voice was where mine used to be, a high tenor as he mumbled insanity, and his ass began to grow, becoming so much more bubbly, filled with the perfect ratio of fat and muscle, his hole becoming needy as the last dros of his masculinity was DRAINED out of him.

I pulled off his inch nub, looking down at my new adonis form, smirking cockily as I stared at my new fledgling. His masculinity would only last me maybe a week or two before I would need to drain somebody else. I hope Brett was prepared for his life as a twink vampire, he was going to need to get used to a hunger far beyond what he knew as a mortal. Good thing he could easily wear my old clothes

Hey ok so this is an odd request but I’m your pretty average guy black hair green eyes fairly good looking but I was I guess gifted with a way to big of dick. I know I shouldn’t complain but only the size queens are willing to hook up with me and even they refuse to let me top them half the time. So I guess I wish I had a smaller one than my monster now. Then maybe I could get more than a handjob and hook up more often too. Can you help?

Damn, give your self some love, you're a gorgeous individual, I'd love to get rammed by a stud like you, but as you wish. You suddenly feel your body burn, as you notice your dick take on a more average size, the rest of your dick energy morphs into your body transforming into a cocky, sexier bad ass version of your old self.

You sat there, covered in muscle, your new average size cock bulging in your new tight leather pants, You oozed with bad boy energy now, your body flowing with your new big dick energy. You very presence would send men around you into needy bottom boys. You walk into your new home, now filled with dozens of guys needing to be filled with your new cock.

Chants of Daddy coming from their lips as the plead to be breeded by you now.

Damn, seems your new cock is always hard now, in fact you're now always horny, fucking the only thing your body allows you to do now, asses were your new favorite things. Needy bottoms need your sexy new beautiful cock. You normal life was no longer that you are now a Sex Machine and you pump your new house boys full almost hourly. Always promised more than a handjob by your new harem filled home. Better drink up and stay hydrated Stud, though you may no longer have a huge dick, your Big Dick Energy keeps you Fucking 24/7.

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

Singing a New Tune

Written for Occam's 2000 Follower Writing Challenge

“Babe, I love you.”

Jared smiled down at Julie, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He had to imagine his girlfriend dreamed of this moment. A romantic kiss at a Tiffany Stabina concert as the star finished out her set with one of Julie’s favorite songs. A slow romantic song- one that Jared knew all too well from frequent replays in the car.  

“Anything for you babe.” He replied, holding her closely in his muscular arms, “I love you too.”

This certainly wasn’t his kind of music. And he didn’t understand the cult-like devotion to Tiffany. But seeing Julie this happy? Worth it. Still, he imagined the other straight dudes here were thinking similarly. In fact, he and the guy next to him shared several looks throughout the night. A silent comradery acknowledging they’d rather be elsewhere. And if they had been elsewhere, Jared would’ve asked the guy for his arm day routine.

“Alright babe, we ought to head out before...”

“To all my fans, I love you!” Tiffany called out, their cheers drowning Jared’s words, “You’ve all been with me from the beginning, and I am so grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart, “But you all know I’ve been criticized.” The fans all booed, “And they’ve come after you too.”

“A bit dramatic.” Jared chuckled, earning a glare from Julie.

“You wouldn’t get it.” She replied, “They go after he for everything.” The jock nodded, not wanting to risk ruining their perfect night, “But when she sings, it’s like she’s speaking directly to you. People just don’t get it.” Jared nodded. There were some things just not worth it.

“I wasn’t going to do this, but I have a new song for you all this evening!” The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Jared groaned, “They say I’m pandering? Then I’ll pander.” She continued, and the crowd got louder.

Jared knew there would be no way of getting Julie to leave now. And he silently dreaded the hours they’d be stuck in traffic. But as the song started and Tiffany’s words echoed through the stadium, his thoughts slowed.

“They say I only cater to a few.”

Jared felt lightheaded, the sound of the crowd growing distant.

“The gays and the girls, oh boo hoo.”

“Julie?” He whispered, but she didn’t respond, “Julie, please...” He felt sick. The world was spinning, everything becoming black, “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He whispered. He couldn’t move. Was he dying? Was this it?

“But I won’t back down, I won’t apologize.” Jared looked up and saw her. Tiffany Stabina. Standing in front of him, “For making them feel alive.” She strutted towards the helpless jock.

“What...? How is this...?”

“I see you dancing in the dark, feeling completely torn apart.” She sang.

Jared yelped as he felt a cool breeze caress him. And to his horror, he realized he was nude. Butt naked in front of Tiffany Stabina no less. She grinned and approached him, circling his nude figure and wrapping her arms around him.

“Embrace your uniqueness, don’t hide.”

Jared gasped as she placed pressure on his shoulders. He felt the floor getting closer as he lost inch after inch of height. He now stood at eye level with the 5’6” popstar.

“Wait? What did you do to me?” He yelped.

“Now let my music take you for a ride.”

She ran a hand along his muscular arms. Her very touch sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick, and he blushed as all 10 inches stood at attention. Tiffany smirked, but continued rubbing his biceps and triceps. Her sensual touch was intoxicated, and Jared watched helplessly as his proud muscles started to diminish. His biceps atrophied, followed quickly by his triceps. His slender arms giving off the appearance they hadn’t seen a gym in years. He tried to cry out, but Tiffany placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. He could only watch as her hands roamed his impressive pecs. He had always been proud of his pecs, and he loved when Julie rested her head on his chest. But now, he could only watch as they flattened away.

“Wait...” He was able to force out. But Tiffany was relentless, and her hands roamed down his abs.

He shed a few tears as his abs vanished, leaving him with a flat, slender tummy. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be some type of acid trip or something. Jared kept trying to reassure himself, even as she moved to his legs and quickly destroyed his muscular thighs and calves, leaving his legs slender and dainty. His feet followed, and quickly diminished from size 13s to 9.5s in mere seconds.

“My music is my contagion, unapologetic. Now we’re gonna collide.” Tiffany continued, this time wrapping her hands around his cock, “My fans are my tribe, I won’t divide.”

Jared felt like the wind was knocked out of him from both the pain and pleasure from her touch. And he watched as she shrunk his proud member. The young jock always knew he was well endowed. And he knew how to use it too. But as he watched his dick shrink from its proud ten inches to a mere 3 inches hard, he felt his confidence diminish.

“We’ll rise together, side by side.”

Her hands made their way to his flat ass. He tried to crane his neck to see what she was about to do. But he didn’t need to see. He could immediately feel his ass expand in her hands, filling them with firm, yet jiggly fat and muscle. He let out a moan as she caressed his basketball-sized ass cheeks, and he nearly came when she gave one a firm slap.

“Pl-please stop...” He begged as she placed a hand over his neck, “You can't do thith...” His voice cracked and he winced, “What’th happening to my voithe? Why do I thound like thith?” He begged, his voice cracking, “No, thith doethn't thound right.” His voice settled a few octaves higher, his masculine tone now lost forever.

“So bring on the hate, let the critics rage. We’ll keep on dancing, it’s time to turn the page.”

As she continued to caress his now slender body, and grind against him, he felt off. His dick  softened, as her physicality became less appealing to him. Her bouncing boobs and thick lips didn’t seem to do it for him. Even her touch was losing its pleasure. And he realized in terror what was occurring.

“No, not thith!” He begged, “Come on, come, think of thomething.” He remembered the BJ Julie gave him last night, and even the lesbian porn he watched a few days ago. But his measly member stayed soft, “No... pleathe...”

He felt Tiffany’s hand on his head. His pleading eyes met hers, and he knew he’d find no mercy. His hair restyled itself, and he felt a piercing pain in his left earlobe, which suddenly adourned a diamond stud. But her touch was doing far more than making a few style alterations. In his mind, his memories were shifting. Showering after football practice? Changing in the locker room after a lifting session with his bros? Watching football with his family?

“Oh god...” He moaned, as his small dick hardened and his ass throbbed with need.

He didn’t play football. He got fucked by the quarterback in the shower after a game. He wasn’t lifting at the gym. He was doing cardio and sucking off the gym bros between their sets. He didn’t watch sports like football. He just sat and scrolled on his phone, reading up on the latest Tiffany Stabina gossip and scrolling his socials. And as his new reality cemented itself, Jared’s eyes lost their intelligent spark and became half-lidded, his brain filling with celebrity gossip and how to please guys.

“This contagion’s here to stay, and we’ll celebrate it every day.”

She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, Jared was back. The cheers of the crowd filling his ears, as Tiffany thanked her fans and left the stage. Jared smiled.

“Oh my god! That wath tho amathing!” He cheered, “Tiffany! I love you!” He yelled, “It wath like Tiffany thpoke to me.”

“You felt that way too?” Jared turned and came face to face with a man of similar build. Albeit with slightly bigger arms, “Tiffany, like, totally thpeakth for uth.” He grinned as Jared felt up his arms.

“Wait!” A voice called out behind him, “Did you see the guy I came here with?” Julie asked, looking around desperately, “I swear, he was right here. I...”

“Thorry thithter, I hope you find him!” Jared replied, turning his attention back to the guy.

“Tho weird, thome poor girl athked me about her boyfriend too.” The man replied, “Probably got drunk and left to watch football.”

“OMG tho lame.” Jared laughed. The two smiled at one another, “Tho, like...”

“Wanna go back to my place? I have her latetht album.” The man winked, and Jared shuddered as his ass throbbed with need.

“That thounds delightful.” Jared replied, pulling the man in closer, his smile widening as the man squeezed his ass, “Oh! But like firtht I totally need a thelfie! I want everyone to know I thupport Tiffany and Tiffany thupports me!” He cheered, capturing their kiss on camera and posting it to his socials.

Later that night, Jared and his lover explored one another’s new bodies. Jared gasping at the size of his lover’s cock, moaning as he felt a firm hand squeeze his ass. His moans would continue to fill the room that night. With each thrust of his new lover’s dick, Jared was in heaven. Unaware of his former life or the horror it would bring his former self to see him like this. Just another horny slut- another gay twink dedicated to Tiffany Stabina.

He was, like, the ultimate American worker dude. Super strong, ultra manly, totally right-wing. And now? Now he's, like, the epitome of a Mexican criminal mastermind, like, seriously dank and shady. How the tables have turned, bro!

Season 3

The New Bike = Killer Bod

Carrie got this new bike to workout on while she watched her shows. She never heard about this brand before, but with the price Carrie decided to buy it. Carrie got on the bike, and decided to start. She watched her shows, as she got into the workout.

Within minutes, her legs and arms began to thicken with muscle. Her skin was getting darker, as her hands and feet began to grow larger. She regripped the machine, as her body began to grow and thicken.

Her shoulders broadened, as her chest firmed and changed into pecs. Her skin continued to darken, as her hair receded and changed.

His voice thickened, as his body continued to fill out with muscle and mass. He found himself bored of his show, and turned on the game.

"Fuck yeah" Alan said, as his face began to shift and change. He took off his tight shirt and wiped off the sweat from his now fully changed face. His new cock formed between his legs, as the new man continued to work out on this bike almost in a trance.

(ai here, hand drawn tf on patreon)

Back in the day, "Stop the steal" was their battle cry against the Democrats. But now, they're only hearing "Stop the Steal" from the po-po. Talk about a major plot twist, fam!

Back in the day, dude used to cross his arms in front of his chest to flex his dominance and strength. These days, he couldn't even do that with his massive pecs flexin'!

You Can't Go Back

Gringo Life

Carlos was breathing heavily. Today, his destiny might be decided. The savings of many years of hard work had been spent on Carlos's trip to the United States today. He was to meet the smuggler in a village not far from the border crossing. Carlos was to come without luggage, without papers. Only with the clothes on his back. Of course, that sounded strange, but Carlos did as he was told. He wore his best clothes. He had gotten himself a new hat. He looked hot. He was an alpha paisa! He would make a career for himself in the land of the gringos.

At the agreed meeting point, a man was standing next to a surprisingly clean new pickup. He looked like something out of a bad college jock comedy. Stars and Stripes tank top over a muscular, tanned torso. The buzz cut hidden under an upturned cap, powerful legs in tight jeans that also accentuated an impressive bulge at the crotch. Feet in dusty biker boots. He spat a bit of chewing tobacco on the street. “Carlos?” he asked. Carlos nodded with a dry mouth. “Good, then let's go.” With the little English he knew, Carlos asked where he should hide in this car. Probably not in the open loading area. The guy laughed and said that Carlos had booked a first-class ticket. You don't hide with this ticket. With this ticket, you drive the car into a better life yourself. He threw the car keys to Carlos and went to the passenger door. “Are you serious?” Carlos asked. He was already much more fluent than a few minutes ago. “You drive, I choose the music. By the way, I'm Zack!” Carlos climbed into the car. He had never sat in such a big and new and expensive car, let alone driven it. “You know how to drive an automatic, bro?” Zack asked. Carlos shook his head. “You'll learn!”

It was hot. Zack had turned off the air conditioning and rolled up the windows. Carlos had no idea which buttons to press to change that. He didn't want to ask Zack. Zack had turned up the music loud and was enthusiastically singing along to songs Carlos didn't know. He was sweating. He ran his hand over his neck. His mullet was soaked in sweat! “Coke?” Zack asked, opening what was obviously a cooled compartment in the center armrest. ‘Holy cow, dude! You're like, a total lifesaver! Thank you, fam!’ Carlos replied. With a heavy Spanish accent. But in fluent English!

“12 kilometers to the border” was written on a sign. Damn metric system, Carlos thought to himself. How many miles was that now? 10? Or more like 20? He drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Young's ‘Young Love & Saturday Nights.’ The muscles in his forearms twitched, making his tattoos dance. Zack opened the windows. The wind blew up Carlos' cut-off tank top. It felt damn good on his sweaty skin. At the end of the road, the border station appeared. Carlos took a deep breath. He slowed down. He rolled up to the Mexican border guard's hut. Zack handed Carlos two passports, which Carlos passed on. The officer only glanced through the window. He had to stand on tiptoe to see not only Carlos but also Zack in the big car. He stamped both passports and wished them a safe journey. Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. Although he knew that leaving Mexico was the easy part. Now came the entry into the USA. The officer could be a brother of Zack. Muscular, short-cropped hair, a tight, perfectly fitting uniform. He bared two rows of immaculate Hollywood-white teeth. “Welcome back to the USA!” he said as Carlos handed him the two passports. “What was the reason for your stay in Mexico?” “We were there to get wasted and hook up, y'all! Get ready for some wild times!” said Zack. The officer said that was indeed the best thing about Latinos. “Which one of you is Charles?” Silence… Zack nudged Carlos in the side. Carlos jumped and said, “My friends call me Chuck, Officer!” Zack grinned. The border guard looked at Carlos and then at the passport. Then he asked Carlos to take off his hat. Shit, the hat, Carlos thought. Of course, with it he looked like a wetback. He felt for the hat. There was no hat. He took off his trucker cap. His long blond hair fell into his face. He pushed it back. The border guard grinned and said that with short hair, Chuck would look less like a girl. He stamped the two passports and handed them back to Chuck in the car.

“So, what did I tell you?” said Zack. “Easier than stealing candy from a baby.” Chuck replied that he had obviously lost the bet. He wouldn't have believed in his life that the guy wasn't checking the back of the pickup. There were six kegs of the finest smuggled tequila rocking on the truck bed. “Dude,” Zack said. “Didn't you see the way the officer was staring at you? If you had told him you had the tequila on the truck bed, he would have let us through. The main thing is that you smile at him once.” Chuck kneaded the bulge in his torn jeans. Hell yes, the officer had been hot. But the load of his balls was reserved for Zack today. He had lost a bet, so Zack was allowed to suck him off in the repair shop. Chuck could only hope that the border guard was back on duty on the next trip to Mexico.

Chuck and Zack had been best bros since they first got kicked out of college together for drug smuggling. Behind the facade of the auto repair shop, they smuggled various things across the border. In both directions. It was lucrative. And each time they bet on whether they'd get caught or not. The loser had to empty his balls into one of the other's holes. They were rarely caught. For some reason, Chuck spoke fluent gutter Spanish like a construction worker. He didn't know when or where he'd learned it himself. That usually helped with problems at the border. And if that wasn't enough, a blowjob had been enough to get him out. Life was great.

Pics by @ki-kink

Make it Make Sense

Adam sat at his computer, finishing up a calculus assignment. He was trying to stay focused, but his thoughts shifted to his weekend plans. A few of his buddies were going to get together to see the football game, and he was looking forward to his club soccer game on Sunday. For all intents and purposes, it was going to be perfect.

“Are you serious?” The nasally voice of Adam’s roommate interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.” Kelvin says, irritation soaking his words.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, turning towards his nerdy roommate. There were nerds and then there’s Kelvin. At first, he was relieved to have a roommate that was going to focus on their studies. But Kelvin proved to be more of a distraction than he could’ve ever expected.

“You know what’s wrong!” Kelvin says, “Look!” He slams his most recent lab report on Adam’s desk, “A 91%! That’s an A-.” He grumbles.

“That’s a great grade.”

“No, no, no! You got a 96%!” He continues, “How did you get a higher grade than me?”

You shrug, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll do better next time. And I know people that would kill for that grade.” Adam says, turning back to his assignment.

“No. That still doesn’t answer my question.” Kelvin adjusts his glasses, “How did you get a better grade?”

Adam runs a hand through his brunette hair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not supposed to be smart.” Kelvin retorts, “You like football and you play sports. Smart people don’t do that.” Adam raises an eyebrow, “You can’t be both.”

Adam chuckles, “Both?”

“A nerd and a jock!”

Adam smirks, “Alright, well why can’t I be both?”

“You can only be one.” Kelvin insists.

“Only one?” Adam chuckles. He wasn’t what one would consider a jock. Nor was he a total nerd. He always felt he was somewhere in the middle, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not much of either. What do you think?”

Kelvin gave his roommate a curious look, clearly thinking hard about the question. He slowly smiles.

“Well, I guess all jocks have big muscles. And I mean, those are certainly impressive.”

Adam raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He could see his biceps and triceps putting strain on his shirt. And his pecs seemed to be jutting out a bit more than he was used to. He lifts a hand and feels his muscular chest. It felt unfamiliar to him.

“What...?”

“And I guess it makes sense that you never wear a shirt. Jocks hate hiding their muscles.”

The chill of the room air tickled Adam’s skin, his eyes narrowing as his bare torso is on full display. Wasn’t he just wearing a shirt? He looks up at Kelvin, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Wow, I mean, I knew your muscles were big, but now I can really see them.”

Adam grunted as his musculature expands. His pecs filling with more muscle, while his biceps and triceps grew larger and larger. He let out a pained grunt as his shoulders broaden and his back fills with muscle. He frame a now hulking mass of manly muscle.

“And I always found it odd how often you shaved your body hair. Always going on about how being clean shaven helps highlight your pecs.”

Adam looked down and watched as his dusting of chest and belly hairs vanish. His skin now clean-shaven and slowly staining with a rich tan. A tan he got from all his shirtless runs. Shirtless runs? He shakes his head.

“Kelvin, wh... something isn’t right, bro.” Adam’s eyes widen, “Dude, seriously! Cut this out, bro!”

“Say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ ironically enough times and soon it becomes part of your vernacular.” Kelvin mocked, “But I doubt you’re worried about that. You care more about finding the right lighting for a quick flex.”

Adam gasps as he feels compelled. He slowly flexes his bicep, the lighting perfectly highlighting his musculature and abs. He can’t help but grin.

“And I can tell you care even less for hygiene.”

Adam grimaces at the musky smell that wafts from his exposed pit. But slowly, his grimace shifts into a grin. Something about his man musk always brings him a sense of joy. The smell of a real man. He barely registers his brunette hair becoming lighter, until the brunette becomes a blonde.

“Yeah, a blond jock. That’s what makes the most sense.” Kelvin continues, “But outside of flexing and enjoying your own stench, I guess it would make sense if you were obsessed with...”

“W-wait!” Adam says suddenly, “Please... Kelvin...” He looks desperately at his roommate.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense.” Kelvin reassures, “Because jocks like you are dumber than a lamppost. Barely even able to do basic math. So obsessed with your body that you don’t have time to nourish your brain.”

Adam’s eyes widen as he can literally feel his brain shrinking. His intelligence, knowledge, and kindness quickly being overwritten. His school smarts replaced by gym routines and different poses. His empathy and kindness twisting into self-indulgence and narcissism. His eyes glaze over as they reflect his new IQ. A smirk forms on his chiseled face as brazen overconfidence overwhelms any semblance of decency. He looks up at Kelvin.

“The fuck you lookin’ at nerd?” He scoffs, “You like what you see, bro?” He flexes his biceps.

Kelvin smiles, “Don’t you have soccer practice?”

“Pfft soccer, bro? Really? Shit sport. I gotta lift.” Adam retorts. He looks over at his computer, “What the fuck is that?” He quickly exits out of his calculus assignment and stands up.

“Wait, Adam...”

“Adam? Nah bro. I’ve told you 100 fuckin’ times to call me AJ.”

“Right. AJ,” Kelvin says, “Don’t you need a shirt for the gym?”

The dumb chuckle that follows is music to Kelvin’s ears, “Nah bro, why’d I hide this?” He flexes again, “Trust me, the dudes and chicks at the gym dig this.”

Kelvin watches as AJ slams the door behind him. A grin forming on the nerd’s face. Everything made sense now. And while Kelvin celebrated his newfound comfort with reality, AJ took great pride in the looks he was getting from the people he passed by. Flaunting his muscles at every chance he got. His smaller brain satisfied with the attention. His dick twitching from the excitement of being lusted after. Because to him, this made sense. Who wouldn’t want to ogle over his hot bod? That’s right, no one.

Matt > Ollie

A few hours ago, I was the typical Jock, loved sports, and attention, but something was missing in my life. I was known as a lion because of my huge cock. It was so annoying as I was horny all tye tome and people could see them outline of it when I wore shorts. It was so easy to fuck people but I was bored of it.

This is where Ollie came in to help. He spoke to me about how he wished he was like me, and I ended up telling him how I would love to become a cute nerd twink like him. He was actually shocked hearing it. He asked me if I was willing to trade bodies with him, and I said yes! He showed me this weird device that has a node, and it meant to transfer our minds but leaving everything behind.

I sat there with the node on my head, and he pressed the device on. I felt my body froze as I was being extracted painfully, but out of the blue, I was sitting where Ollie was and saw my body in front moving.

I felt new knowledge about science, maths, everything, and lust for jocks? I felt my smaller cock get hard seeing Ollie in my body flexing. I looked at my new body, and it felt so tight and sexy! I was finally a cute nerdy twink!!! I was Ollie at last!! I remembered how I had OF and loved guys fucking me.

I spoke to Matt, and we both loved this swap, we felt love and decided to kiss. He agreed to collaborate with me, and the video went viral. Matt is now my dom top, and he sure satisfies me nightly. I love how he ruins my hole as he needs to keep his cock calm. We have fucked so any times at college and this was the best life ever.

Everyone respected our relationship, and we had so many threesomes as sometimes I wanted to top a fellow jock.

The device? I kept it hidden away as Matt and I agreed to steal ourselves fresh young bodies when we reached 40.