PHT: Frank Grillo, Enver Gjokaj, And Chris Pratt

PHT: Frank Grillo, Enver Gjokaj, and Chris Pratt

Given the fact that he’s not only a terrible person but also the lead actor that ruined the Jurassic Park franchise, I’ll eagerly possess Chris Pratt. I love a challenge, so with me in control, he’ll be undergoing a complete image revamp that fixes his various issues and also turns him back into the lovable heartthrob he once was. Plus, with Guardians of the Galaxy 3 coming soon and more Marvel projects on the horizon, it would be quite fun to play a superhero like Star-Lord. With his personal trainers and my own eagerness to get myself looking camera-ready, Pratt will also be looking buffer than ever by the time filming starts!

As for who I’m going to hypnotize, I think giving Enver the opportunity to experience what his character experienced back on the show Dollhouse would be the best choice. With him under my control, he’ll become a nerdy gay man with no inhibitions that will make him eager to let loose at any gay club I take him to.

As for Frank Grillo, he’ll get the privilege of becoming a tight gray shirt for me to wear on the GOTG set. Although Frank will no longer be a leading man, he’ll still receive quite a lot of popularity amongst fans due to just how tightly he’s stretched across my body…

Would You Rather - Occupy Jeff Nippard's body once a day each week and yourself for the rest of the week, or be in his girlfriend's body permanently?

I can’t resist the temptation of becoming such a short Canadian hunk, so even though it means only being him once a week, I’ll still choose the option of becoming Jeff rather than his girlfriend. That will work out well for me in the long run though because once I swap for the first time, I’ll just alter Jeff’s schedule so these days from now on will be his “cheat” days so I can just do anything I desire and eat whatever I want without any interruptions.

Knowing how buff he is though, I wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t do anything more than flexing in the mirror and burning off calories by jerking off to my own reflection for the majority of the day!

My asks are open again, so feel free to ask anything you’d like to know! 🫣

Questions for TF fans

Send me a number, I’ll answer that question!

1. What’s your Favorite kind of TF? 2. Do you like Inanimate TF? 3. Would you rather Transform other people or change yourself? 4. What got you interested in TF? 5. Absolutely favorite TF art? 6. Absolutely favorite TF story? 7. Anthro or full animal TF? 8. Best part of transformation for you? 9. All good TFs need to have… 10. Willing or unwilling TF subject? 11. TG in your TF? 12. What other kinks do you have? 13. What excites you about TF? 14. What embarrasses you about TF? 15. Does anyone else know about your TF kink? 16. What other kinks do you have? 17. What kink excites you most, excluding TF? 18. Any kinks you’re embarrassed by? 19. Any kinks you didn’t think you’d be into but are? 20. What’s your favorite TF fantasy? 21. Favorite way to initiate a TF? 22. Mental changes to match physical changes, or a human mind trapped in an inhuman body? 23. Clothes ripping as the transformation progresses, or changing to match? 24. Favorite part of the body to watch transform? 25. Size changes? 26. Inflation? 27. If you could transform one person into anything you wanted, who would you change and into what? 28. Someone transforms you… what do they do with you after? 29. Who is your favorite shape shifter in media? 30. Favorite depiction of a transformation in media? 31. Permanent transformation? 32. Willing or forced transformation? 33. One part of your body you want to change? 34. One part of your body you’re really happy with? 35. What kinds of TF do you find a turnoff? 36. Magic or science? 37. Favorite thing to TF into? 38. Do you RP? 39. Ever act out a TF fantasy with a partner? 40. If anyone found out about your TF kink you’d…

Hey there everyone, I just wanted to take a moment to put a spotlight on Visceral-Stories and the final piece of his collaboration with me - College Is Transformative: The Lecture Hall. It’s been a really fun time building out the universe of this series and allowing more locations on campus to shine all while they cause even more transformations for the students at Oak Point University. 

Originally, the plan was for me to write and release Part II of my section of the collab last Friday with Visceral as well. Unfortunately though, last week my real life interfered and prevented that from happening as I was stuck traveling across several states for several days to return back to my parents’ house to get my car repaired due to both how cheap and quick it was able to be done by my dad. Now that the dust of the past week (stress and intense panic over money) has finally settled though, I just wanted to take a moment to explain the delay. For those interested in reading how my section of the story finishes up, I’m aiming for part two of my section of the collab to be released in two weeks or so.

Regardless, thanks for hopefully understanding and I hope you enjoy reading Visceral’s story in the meantime!

College is Transformative: The Lecture Hall, Part 2

This is the final half of my collab with @soul-controller whose second part will be uploaded in the future. You can also read Part 1 here.

If you like what you read, don't hesitate to support me on Ko-fi! And follow me on Twitter!

Nathan could feel all the students’ eyes on him as he trudged down the steps to the front door. The young man’s belly, partially free from the confines of his shirt, jiggled with each step he took. His tight shorts fared not much better and they clung to his sweaty thighs, generating a strong feeling of discomfort. To make matters worse, he began to hear the faint murmurs and giggles of the students around him, which only fanned the flames of his mortification. As a result, Nathan felt a wave of full-body warmth and droplets of sweat formed all around his body. To make matters worse, any prior agility he’d once had was entirely depleted. Now he waddled at a much slower pace tremendously unbecoming for a student-athlete. By the time he finally reached the front door, he forced it open so hard that he nearly lost his balance. 

Nathan was panting by the time he reached the open hallway, which to his relief, was completely barren. The silence was breathtaking and he took a moment to exhale and revel in the solitude. There were no students or teachers bustling about. It was just him. And his confused thoughts. Just a few feet away from him, he noticed a sign with the mens’ restroom logo on it with an arrow pointing down the corner. As he began to hobble toward it, he quickly became aware that the movement had agitated his gut and it began to swell even larger. 

“No, no, no,” Nathan cried as he helplessly watched his gut balloon forth, becoming much more rounder than it once was. It immediately stretched against his t-shirt and its circumference had more than doubled. The young man’s semi-muscular figure had been forever tarnished, leaving him looking like a rotund freak with a disproportionately massive stomach.

A loosening pressure in his waist made Nathan’s hair stand on end. With a lightning-fast reflex, he caught his brown cargo shorts with his hand, preventing them from falling to the floor and exposing himself. The worst part was that he couldn’t even crane his neck over his ball-shaped stomach to even see his lower body. He was so large now that he almost took up the entire width of the narrow hallway. “I look like a freak,” he sulked, gripping his doughy stomach in one hand and shut his eyes tightly. Still in denial, he refused to believe this was actually happening. 

“This isn’t real,” he huffed to himself. “P…pretty s…soon I’ll wake up and I’ll be right next to Samuel in class.” He reopened his eyes only to see his beach ball-sized belly once more. In an act of frustration, he grasped it tightly with both hands until he suddenly froze for a moment. The pressure felt so…oddly familiar and placating, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Nathan gave it another squeeze before a woman’s shrill voice made his blood run cold.

“Mr. Fuller! What on earth do you think you’re doing?” 

Accidentally releasing both his grip on his belly and his shorts, Nathan spun around to see an indignant-looking older woman walking toward him. Luckily, his expanding waist prevented his cargo shorts from falling to the floor, but they were now extremely tight around his loins. He couldn’t even think about that though, instead he was focused on the woman’s intimidating presence. She was very tall with the legs of a stork and the disgruntled leer of a hawk. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and her stern expression sent a shiver down Nathan’s spine. Quickly, he looked behind him to make sure she was talking to him, only to find that he was still the only one in the hallway. Was he in trouble or something? Nathan started to speak, but his nervousness was rather apparent. “Oh…hello…ma’am…umm…I-”

“Why aren’t you in uniform?” she interjected coldly.

“My…huh, what?” the young man sputtered, confused about what she meant. 

“The staff needs to be wearing uniforms at all times,” she answered. “And I must say, I noticed a bit of a mess in the lobby when I walked into the building this morning. What do you have to say about that Mr. Fuller?”

Nathan stuttered, daunted by this woman’s visible rage.  “F…Fuller is not my last-”

“And where on earth are your supplies?” the woman interrupted rudely while crossing her arms. She began tapping one of her black stilettos against the floor while she waited for a response.

“Supplies?” Nathan asked nervously. It felt like the woman’s eyes were boring holes through him. He had no clue what she was talking about. 

The woman rolled her eyes and gestured for him to follow her. “Come with me please.”

She began walking towards a door only a few feet away. Nathan debated his options. It wasn’t like he could swiftly run away from the situation so he reluctantly chose to follow behind her. In his peripheral vision, Nathan realized his pecs looked drastically different. Any muscular composition they’d once had was tarnished, replaced by two huge ellipses of fat that jiggled with his footsteps. To make matters worse, he could feel his body warm up. In a few short seconds, his entire body was coated in a layer of thick brown hair, ranging from his legs to his groin to the top of his round pecs. The extra hair made Nathan feel a lot warmer and older. As perplexed as he was, he couldn't deny that he was starting to feel more mature, and that was an oddly exciting thought.

Finally, the two reached a side door and the woman produced a key from her pocket, opening a door to a storage closet. She then stepped inside and Nathan decided to cautiously step closer, still unsure what was happening. While she had her back turned, Nathan took the chance to hastily readjust his bunched-up cock. The action provided some momentary relief, however his waistline subsequently widened it unison. Its new girth tested the elastic waistbands of his underwear and shorts.

A few seconds later, the woman pulled out a bright yellow cart with a mop sticking out from it. Lightly clenching the mop-handle between her fingers, she glared at Nathan up and down once more before grimacing. “It’s a shame we have no spare uniforms in your size, Nathal. I suggest if you want to keep your job, you never show up here without wearing your uniform again.”

“My uniform?” Nathal asked. 

“Yes, your uniform,” the woman snarled. To reinforce her vexation, she pushed the cart toward the perplexed young man. 

Not wanting it to hit him, Nathal bent over slightly to stop the cart from rolling into him. He promptly caught it with both hands before it could collide into him. The action made his hands feel really numb for some reason. “I think you’re confused,” he said, glancing back up at her before he felt an intense wave of intimidation. “I don’t even work here. I-”

“I think you’d better get straight to work,” the woman interrupted, her eyes shredded any remaining self-assurance Nathal had. “Am I clear, Mr. Fuller?”

“Yes ma’am,” Nathal replied before widening his eyes in confusion. Why had he even answered this rude woman?

“Excellent,” she said. “And if you want to keep your job Mr. Fuller, then I expect that I’ll never see you here without your uniform again. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Nathal replied again, instinctively glancing away to avoid her penetrating gaze. The trivial act caused a spark to tingle down his spinal column and hunch his body forward slightly, as if his enormous, round belly was buoying him forward. He tried to straighten his spine back up, but it was much harder than it had been moments ago. Nathal grunted, perturbed at how silly he felt hunched forward. 

The tapping of the women’s shoes was slowly fading away. Nathal looked back up and watched the woman walk away. “What a fuckin’ nag,” he said with a sigh of relief. Mrs. Wheelock was a ruthless perfectionist and always took her job as a hall advisor way too seriously. Wait, how had he known her name?

Nathal’s repose was short-lived as he suddenly he felt something brush against his upper lip. He brought his hand up to his face and felt the presence of a bushy mustache! “What the…” he said in disbelief. Sure enough, he could feel thousands of long strands beneath his fingers. It felt oddly placating. Nathal had never been able to grow any facial hair, so this was unheard of. Imagining himself with a mustache seemed exciting. He was sure it made him look older and more mature. If only, he hadn’t lost his athletic physique in the process. 

A faint twinge in Nathal’s back caught his attention, so he promptly straightened his posture - a gesture that lasted for a few brief moments before he slunk forward once again. “What is happening to me?” the college student croaked feebly. His faint back ache indicated he had tenured joints, but that couldn’t be true. For some reason, he thought he was a college athlete. But there was no way he could possibly be a swift runner. Not only that, his stamina was nonexistent and he was type to get winded if he went up the stairs too fast.

“What is happening to me?” the young man croaked feebly. His memories felt like they belonged to someone older than him, someone far removed from a youthful undergrad. That troubling thought reactivated a switch in Nathal’s mind. With that rude wench gone, he could finally escape to the bathroom around the corner and get his head on straight. He had just rounded the corner when he felt something wet splash across his exposed legs. “Agh! What the hell?” he exclaimed before glancing up at a small group of guys and girls walking past. One of them had dropped their drink! Glancing back up, Nathal made eye contact with a college jock, who looked just as surprised as him. 

“Oh shit, my bad bro,” the jock said, looking just as surprised as Nathal. The two were the same height and both had a broad width, only the jock’s was made up of thick muscle and Nathal’s was of incongruous fat. The guy readjusted his backward baseball cap and trotted past Nathal with a cocky smirk on his face. 

“Hey!” Nathal called out, his voice saturated with uncharacteristic fury. The guy didn’t even bother to look back. He just swaggered into an adjacent classroom. He knew he wasn’t the loudest individual but the guy must’ve heard him. He hated arrogant jerks like that who just expected someone else to pick up their trash as if they owned the place. 

The paunchy man took a lumbering step towards him before feeling his tennis shoe cling to the ground. Gross, it must’ve been that sticky drink. He tried to peer down at his shoes, but his plump gut prevented him. Taking the extra effort to crane his neck, Nathal noticed that the brown cola had completely tarnished his light gray sneakers. They also looked much larger than before, almost like clown shoes. A thick rubber material appeared across the bottom of his shoes, making them much more stick-resistant. The dark color spread across Nathal’s shoes, dyeing his shoelaces black and thinning them. Simultaneously, the polyester material of his sneakers converted into a thick black leather that was far less absorbent than before. As he took a few more steps, various scuff marks appeared across the morphing shoes, indicating years of wear and tear. If Nathal’s pudgy upper body hadn’t obstructed his view, he would’ve seen the brand new pair of size 14 work shoes that encircled his feet. 

He was about to head towards the bathroom to clean up when he heard the sound of heels clopping through the hall again. “Shit,” he muttered, fearing that cranky old woman was back. Instinctually, he reached for the mop and began scrubbing away at the mess. The distinct footsteps past by him, but Nathal found himself too nervous to even look up, fearing more vitriol. He instead chose to center his attention on scrubbing the floor. Something strange happened as he did though. For some reason, the tiled floor felt like it was getting closer and closer to him. Simultaneously, Nathal’s handling on the mop grew tighter and he found he didn’t have to make such big circles with it anymore since he was closer to the ground. As he finished cleaning up the spill, the formerly six foot tall man had shrunk down to a stout 5’5”. The reduced height had only enhanced Nathal’s paunchiness and his breadth took up even more space in the tight hallway. 

“That looks shiny,” Nathal said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He felt oddly proud of his meager accomplishment and how quickly he’d cleaned up the mess. Mopping was a cinch and he hadn’t realized how efficient at it he was. Maybe this would be a chill part-time job to work during school. After all, Nathal was a simple man and wanted a job after college that didn’t involve too much stress. 

But no, that couldn’t be right. Nathal was studying film, wasn’t he? No, he much preferred to watch movies casually, not analyze them. That didn’t seem like much fun. Besides, he’d started to find school less and less exciting. Sitting in a classroom for hours at a time seemed so boring. He much preferred to keep his hands busy and do something active. 

CLUMP!

Nathald peered to his right and immediately saw the culprit. A girl had been walking with a group of her friends. She’d attempted to throw away a water bottle yet had missed the trash completely. But she hadn’t even realized since she was too engrossed in the conversation with her friends. Honest mistake, ge thought, giving the girl the benefit of the doubt.

There was something within Nathald that compelled him to clean it up: an altruistic one that he couldn’t resist. It wasn’t until he had bent over and grabbed the plastic bottle that he heard a sharp ripping sound that roused him from his methodical mindset. 

RIIIIIIP!

The loud tear echoed throughout the hallway. A breezy feeling on Nathald’s rump left no discretion that he’d ripped his shorts in the worst possible place. With the chip bag already in his hand, he quickly stood back up and spun around - a gesture that reminded him of the aches in his knees. Unfortunately, Nathald hadn’t gotten away completely unscathed. A burst of giddy laughter confirmed his worst fears as a group of students walked past, although when Nathald turned to face them, they quickly avoided eye contact.

Nathald’s cheeks were bright red with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him. First the encounter with the rude woman and now this. One thing was for certain: he needed to get out of this cramped hallway. With his hideous yellow cart in front of him, he begrudgingly decided to push it around the corner and out into the much more spacious commons area of the building. 

His first few steps reminded him of how cumbersome he’d become. They also seemed to spark a new wave of change all across his clothing. The sliver of Nathald’s round gut was promptly covered by his black t-shirt while it descended to his waistline and began interlocking with the loops of his cargo shorts. The shorts unrolled with impressive speed and by the time they reached his ankles, they had completely lost their khaki composition, instead they were replaced by a much thinner blend of cotton and polyester. The shirt and cargo shorts continued to gel together, coagulating like liquid while the space between then receded and receded until nothing remained. The colors of the black shirt and jeans mixed, becoming a rich brown that diffused from his crotch all the way up to his shoulders and all the way down to his legs. A shirt collar bloomed around his stubby neck. It was only when the fabric of Nathald’s shirtsleeves rolled down his arms and touched his wrists that he began to realize what had happened.

Stumbling out in the atrium, the sight of his tan clothing caught his eye. “What am I wearing?” he stuttered aloud. “I look like a fucking Ghostbuster,” he said. His new uniform expertly enhanced his burly figure and clung tightly to his sizable man-boobs and stomach. Man, this day would just not quit! With the adrenaline recirculating in his veins, Nathald scanned the commons area for an open table. Luckily, there was one only a few feet away from him.

It took more effort than Nathald remembered to heave his body in the tan jumpsuit. With each step he took, his thighs began to swell wider and wider until they were pressed taut against the uniform. They grew so round that they actually began to press against each other, their maladroit flab bouncing when he walked. Nathald’s new meaty thighs also propped up his loins. In the front, his bulge was delicately propped up and in the back, his small butt was now poised upward with excess fabric hanging around it. The sensation was more than unpleasant, but the paunchy young man finally reached the table after a few more agonizing seconds. 

“Oooofffff,” Nathald victoriously bellowed as he sat down on the small chair. His massive and wide breadth eclipsed the piece of furniture, but he didn’t care. He was just relieved to sit down for a second. As he laid his arms down on the table, they touched something sticky. Immediately, he lifted them back up, repulsed by whatever he had just touched. 

Without thinking, Nathald snatched a white rag that had suddenly materialized in the pocket of his new jumpsuit. He scrubbed profusely, eliminating the stickiness in only a few short seconds. During that time, Nathald’s buttcheeks inflated beneath him, causing him to rise higher in the chair. His formerly bony ass had now become one of his most pronounced features. It had grown so large in fact, that parts of both cheeks now hung off the sides of the chair. Nathald tried to reposition himself to get comfortable, but it soon became evidently clear that being comfortable on this chair was an impossibility with his enormous, round butt. He didn’t feel super put-off by it. Instead, he treated it like a minor inconvenience as he stood back up in a huff. His belly jiggled once again and descended even further over his crotch, but this time he was unfazed by it.

“Cheap ass chair,” Nathald griped. His bushy mustache only accentuated his frown. As he repositioned himself back on the ground, he felt the mass of his spherical stomach sway around. His calves also expanded beneath him, swelling into slabs of muscle that could elevate his rotund figure. He’d adjusted rather quickly and was accepting his new cumbersome movements over his old nimble ones. 

A surge of movement caught Nathald’s attention and he turned to watch a group of students at the table next to him gather their things. Many of them side-eyed the colossal young man as they walked past and Nathald meekly avoided their judging leers. At one point, he’d felt like one of them, but that feeling was being taken away from him. The feeling was enough to cause Nathald’s mustache to begin twitching on its own. The facial hair rapidly multiplied and descended down his face, framing his lips beneath his new, bushy goatee. To compliment it, his lips thinned and his teeth lost some of their former whiteness. Nathald was never the type to sport a goatee, or any facial hair at all, so the action only added a new level of distance between him and his past-self.

“Fuckin’ animals,” he grunted to himself as soon as the students were gone, leaving behind a mess of candy wrappers on the floor and residue from their drinks on the table. Furrowing his more-pronounced eyebrows, he trudged over to the now empty table - once again he was powerless to his desire to make the hall look tidy.

Nathald didn’t stop at cleaning just one table as there were many others in the lobby that were also unkempt. The motions became second nature to him as he effortlessly polished the tables with his rag. Even the way his fat pecs jiggled became second nature to him as he quickly whipped every empty table into shape. Cleaning was a perfect distraction to avoid the glares of the students. Nathald didn’t care much for them anyway. It wasn’t like they made his job easier. 

As he cleaned, Nathald didn’t even notice his hands inflating. They quickly swelled to be larger than the rags he used. His meaty hands, now the size of dumbbells, made the process of cleaning the tables much faster. After a few strenuous minutes, Nathald rubbed with his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, brushing away the sweat and flicking his long bangs out of his face. It was at this moment that he finally snapped out of his laborious hypnosis. 

“Why did I do that?” he gasped to himself as he looked across the lobby at all his hard work. He looked over his immense frame on full display beneath his unstylish uniform. “I’m…n…not a janitor,” he added shakily, mostly as an affirmation to himself.

Faint wrinkles appeared on Nathald’s face as he sunk deeper into his rumination. His cheeks lost their youthful sheen and his chin began to broaden. The change spread to his neck, which promptly lost its slender build and became swallowed by fat. As Nathald head sunk slightly closer to his meaty pecs, his vision began to fade. It was as if someone had turned his eyesight out of focus. Outlines of things became fuzzier as objects in the distance became impossible to discern. Nathald frustratedly rubbed his eyes to try to remedy his dilemma. 

“What the hell,” he grunted. His attempts to rectify his vision only caused it to deteriorate further. Now he was having trouble seeing things right in front of him. Nathald soon realized something else was amiss too: his voice. It now sounded far lower and gruffer-sounding. “Is that….my voice?” he asked, sounding far more panicked this time. The two different variables were doing a number on Nathald’s weary brain. His voice and his vision were stripped from him in one fell swoop. “I…I need my glasses,” he griped as he looked around the lobby in hopes to improve his eyesight.

“What?” asked a man to the side of him, taking out an earbud.

Nathald winced. His vision was so blurry now that he didn’t even realize someone had been walking right by him. “Oh my,” he said, feeling tremendously discombobulated. He could faintly make out a guy who was much taller than him wearing a backwards hat and a tank top. “I’m sorry young man, I wasn’t talking to you. I was-”

“What kind of a name is Dathald?” the guy said with a crude laugh as he pointed his finger at Nathald’s chest. 

“Excuse me?” Nathald replied, his low baritone once again taunting him with its dissonance. 

“Your nametag, dude” the jock smirked. It was at that moment when a pair of round-lensed glasses materialized in front of Dathald’s eyes, allowing him to get a good look at the muscular jock that towered over him. His new glasses had thin rims and a light brown coloration. “What a weird name,” the guy said as he turned away, still laughing to himself.

The stout man was so confused. “My name isn’t….Dathald?” To his dismay, there was a nametag clipped into his jumpsuit above his left pec. With the assistance of his new glasses, he could clearly see his new name. That seemed incorrect, but memories about the aging man’s old life seemed so distant. If he was supposed to be a college student, why would he have a nametag?

Dathald knew he spent quite a lot of time at the college, but it wasn’t like he attended the classes. His IQ wasn’t the best and he knew he couldn’t compete with the other kids here. His friend Samuel was smart though, top of his class and all. Dathald wondered how on earth his friend had managed that. Looking at his portly body, he had never felt more different than his friend before. In fact, as he tried to recollect Samuel’s face further, he found his memory to be hazy. Memories of a slender young man as restless as he used to be were disappearing, erased from his mind as if they’d never happened. In Samuel’s place, Dathald recalled a hunky man. The kind who liked to flounce around campus in his finest suits that revealed his massive muscles.

Before Dathald could inquire further, he felt an explosion of sharp aches across his body. “AGGH!” he cried, feeling a soreness in his back once more. This time it felt permanent, like the kind of lingering ache that took decades to produce. Immediately, he grew accustomed to the tender aches as if he’d had them his whole life. 

Dathald could sense something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his meaty finger on it. Now out of things to clean, he pushed his cart out of the expansive lobby and departed into a nearby hall. With a sullen look on his face, Dathald slowly trudged across the polished floor. He casually glanced up and noticed a men’s bathroom sign and in a flash, he hurried inside, leaving his cart behind. He felt his wide hips brush against the doorframe - yet another reminder of his immense size. With a sense of sudden familiarity, Dathald remembered that he’d been trying to look at his reflection in the mirror. As he hurled his body inside, he was relieved to see no other men in the bathroom. 

“Whoa. Is that…me?” he mouthed quietly, gazing at his familiar yet foreign body. His broad figure spanned wider than the small mirror. His sagging pecs and bulge jiggled as he waddled closer to the sink. He didn’t make it too far since his belly prevented him from getting too close. 

“I look so old now,” Dathald said in disbelief, a little bit louder this time. There were so many little things about his face that had changed. His eyes had much darker circles under them, his hairline had receded a few inches upward, and his goatee made him unrecognizable. There was no way he could fool anyone into thinking he was a college student.

Further affirming that though, Dathald’s face began to grow numb and many little facets of it began to change, giving him one final show. Firstly, the remaining hair on his head crept higher and higher, endowing him a striking case of male pattern baldness. His long hair then shrunk in on itself, losing its youthful texture and volume for a few seconds until only a thin horseshoe of it remained. Next, the few wrinkles he had multiplied tenfold. Horizontal lines etched themselves across his prominent forehead followed by noticeable crow’s feet around his eyes. Dathald’s cheeks lost their youthful sheen as sharp wrinkles made themselves extremely pronounced across them. Finally, his nose grew much more bulbous and his ears grew slightly larger. Once youthful, Dathald’s new face looked like it belonged to a man in his mid-fifties rather than a 24 year old. To reinforce this, his remaining hair dyed itself an ashy color of silver. Dathald continued to look at his reflection, speechless how it had only taken a few seconds for his face to become that of a stranger’s.

RING! RING! RING! RING!

Dothald begrudgingly pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. He froze for a moment afterward. Gone was his newest iPhone and in its place was an old flip phone that looked to be from the 2000s. He could’ve sworn that he was savvy with technology, but that couldn’t be right. After all, he was 57 years old and didn’t care for the newest technological gizmos. Hesitantly, Dothald answered the call - an act which took a few tries due to his cumbersome, sausage-like fingers.  

“Hello?” he asked.

A woman’s snarky voice came through the line. “You’re coming to Leo’s basketball game tomorrow, right?” 

Dothald immediately pulled the phone away from his ear. The nag on the other end almost blew his eardrum out. A perturbed frown appeared on his face. “Who is this?” he asked, this time not thinking twice about his low baritone. 

“Hello? Can you hear me?” the woman squawked again. “It’s Sherry.”

“Oh right,” Dothald replied. Sherry Connors was his ex-wife and a tremendous nag at that. She had the same nonexistent level of politeness that his supervisor had. 

“Your son’s game,” Sherry repeated with an annoyed tone. “It’s tomorrow night. You remember, right?” 

“It is?” Dothald asked, a twinge of dopiness present in his low voice. He shut his eyes and could envision a high school kid much taller and skinnier than him. Leo was a good kid and had shaped up to be a really good basketball player. 

“Yes Donald, you said you’d be there.”

As Donald Fuller reopened his eyes, he was just in time to catch the “t” and the “h” on his nametag meld together, transforming into an “n.” Seeing his new name locked the final piece into place. And in that moment, the final contents of his old life were lost in an instant, replaced by a divorced father who had been working as a janitor for the last fifteen years. “Yes Sherry,  I’ll be there,” Donald gruffly replied. 

“Great,” Sherry said before she launched into a tirade. “I always feel like it costs an arm and a leg to get you to do something, Donald. It’s important to be there for your son and tell him to not be lazy. He gets that from you, you know.”

“Uh-huh,” Donald answered before zoning out as Sherry continue to ramble on, giving him a list of her complaints. Tired of looking at his own dull expression, he decided to exit the bathroom and return to the empty hall. This time he remembered to turn slightly as to allow his enormous body to fit through the door. As he waddled back to his cart of cleaning supplies, he savored the familiar bounce of his sagging belly and his two basketball-sized buttcheeks. Donald heard Sherry say something about him being over 300 pounds, but he didn’t care. He casually placed one of his hairy arms on the cart’s handle, relieved that Sherry’s rant had died down. However, the next sentence she said shook him.

“So…how is Wayne?” 

“Oh….Wayne is….good,” Donald replied. Speaking that name sent a flurry of memories spiraling through his subconscious. Wayne Powell was the guy Donald had been seeing. As a brawny construction worker with a heart of gold, Wayne was someone who made Donald’s heart flutter. Donald could remember so clearly now that he was the reason why he’d left his marriage with Sherry. It had been a messy situation, but in the end, both divorcees ended up happier separated. 

“We’re going out for beers tonight,” Donald said, almost slurring his words with how excited he was getting. The idea of that sounded perfect. Just the two men drinking at their regular bar. Any dwindling vestiges that Donald Fuller was once a college student named Nate were gone completely as he envisioned the handsome man’s face and how much he loved to submit to that broad-shouldered stud. 

“Ok,” Sherry said with very little reaction to Donald’s statement. “Just be there for Leo tomorrow.” 

“Of course,” Donald replied, as if he hadn’t forgot his son had a game tomorrow a few minutes ago. 

It had been tough to be there for Leo since he’d been rather preoccupied over the last few years. First it was the divorce and now the man he’d been seeing. Deep down, Donald knew he could show up more, but the thrill of a new chapter of his life kept pulling him back. Oh well. At least he bought the young man nice gifts for Christmas and his birthday. 

“See you there,” Sherry said before hanging up the phone abruptly. Not much of a talker, that woman, Donald thought as he closed his flip phone. He reflected for a moment, taking in the silent ambiance of the empty hall. He then promptly picked up a broom from his cart and began to sweep. 

The familiar chatter of students exiting the lecture hall penetrated Donald’s eardrums. He continued sweeping in the corner, not wanting to make any more contact with the dreadful hooligans. Out of his peripheral, he could see the student navigate around his enormous frame which took up half of the hallway. Once the stampede seized, Donald spun back around, ready to fulfill his afternoon cleaning of the lecture hall, only he could’ve never calculated for what happened next.

The first thing Donald saw was the muscular shelf-like pectorals of a man wearing a dark blue suit before the two collided.  

“Oh my goodness!” the tall man exclaimed as he jolted in place. With a disgruntled look on his face, he was holding a folder in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Instantly, the name came to Donald. It was professor Phillip Reynolds: head of the English department and perhaps one of the hunkiest men he had ever seen. 

The sexy firebrand professor had enough of a reputation that even the lowly janitor knew his name. Donald had only caught one or two passing glimpses of the middle-aged hunk from afar and he’d never even seen him up close before. With his square jaw, bulging muscles, and perfectly-quaffed black hair, he looked like a man pulled from some mens’ fashion magazine or even a bodybuilding one for that matter. 

Phillip waved his arms up and examined his suave luxury suit. “You almost spilled my coffee,” he shrewdly said before glaring at the disorderly custodian. The irritation in his face was impossible to miss and being reprimanded by the hunk instantly made Donald shrink into himself a little bit. “That room had better be spotless for my 1PM class,” he added, punctuating his command with a sharp glare at Donald before walking away in a huff. Donald could hear the beefcake mutter the words “big oaf” under his breath. 

A dizzying combination of intimidation and infatuation danced through Donald’s head. For a man in his mid-40s, Phillip took great care of himself. Even when he was pissed off, he still looked incredibly sexy. Hearing his snide comment shook Donald for a second, but he quickly brushed it off.

Cautiously and deviously, Donald turned around as he watched the muscular man walk away. That azure-colored suit jacket was perfectly tailored to the brawny professor’s torso and enhanced his broad back. Just below it, Phillip’s dark blue dress pants revealed the two mountainous globes that he called his glutes. The taut muscles bounced in such a hypnotizing manner that Donald couldn’t bring himself to turn away. His cock rose in his jumpsuit as he imagined how commanding and powerful a man like that was. 

Suddenly, Phillip turned his head to peer over his shoulder. In that moment, the two men made eye contact. Donald averted his gaze, but he knew that he’d been caught red-handed. In the distance, he noticed that the professor’s stern expression gave way to something unexpected: a light smile. Donald almost missed it due ot how sudden and subtle it was. 

Both men broke eye contact in unison. This time, Donald’s cheeks were as red as cherries and he felt warm with both excitement and embarrassment. He hoped that the professor hadn’t seen the erection in his jumpsuit. As Phillip disappeared around a corner, the middle-aged janitor finally snapped out of his horny fog. Grabbing his trusty yellow cart, he opened up the door to the lecture hall and waddled inside, his thighs brushing together as they always did. Donald Fuller's mind was still ablaze with thoughts of submission toward the swanky, hot beefcake of a professor. He had a lot to fantasize about for the rest of his shift.

PHT: Jay Harrington, Alan Ritchson, and Ryan Kelley

Interesting choices! Although I had never heard of Jay before, a quick Google search about him has made him my instant choice for who to possess. I’m definitely a fan of the silver fox vibe he has going on, so it would be fun to have that “daddy af” vibe for myself as I take him over along with his acting gigs. 

As for who I’m going to be hypnotizing, my interest in Alan Ritchson from Titans will make him an easy choice for who I’m going to pick. For years I’ve seen the gifs of him possessed and dancing around, so I’ll just hypnotize him to turn that footage into reality. No matter where he goes or what he does, he can’t escape the music constantly blaring in his mind that drives him to dance and show off that sculpted body of his!

Now that just leaves Ryan Kelley, who will get the distinguished honor of becoming my transformation victim. Given just how mature and hunky Jay looks, I think it’s only fair that Ryan becomes a top of the line designer suit for me to wear around countless bars in Los Angeles to find younger men eager to hang with someone that looks and behaves so incredibly mature.

College Is Transformative: The Lecture Hall

This has been a long-gestating collaboration that I’ve been working on for months with my good friend @visceral-stories. To check out his section of the collab, click here. We both hope you enjoy, part two will be coming soon!

As the start of a new year at Oak Point University quickly approached, Sam Pearson couldn’t deny that he was already feeling rather ambivalent towards the upcoming semester. The previous year had been absolute hell for the 22-year-old, as his part-time job when paired with his intense course load left him feeling stretched too thin. To make matters worse, his attempts at trying to balance school and work had been completely in vain as the blonde-haired 6’0’ man found himself still failing to receive grades that he felt he deserved. After a full semester of work and classes, the threat of burnout was still quite prominent within the young man’s mind as he made his grand return to campus. 

However, as he arrived a week early to move into his apartment and beat the near-constant traffic of move-in day, there was one aspect that kept Sam willing to persevere through the mental strain: his friend Nate. The pair had first met during an English course last year, where Sam had quickly bonded with the shaggy haired brunette over being the two most anxious and awkward individuals in the room. Ever since, their bond had only grown stronger with each passing day. In fact, their friendship had become so special that they decided to move in together to escape the horrors of university housing.

Throughout their year-long friendship, that bond had allowed them to share both the great and terrible aspects of their life. While they were relieved to have similar interests in terms of television and music, the duo were absolutely overjoyed when they both revealed their ill feelings towards college. As Sam ranted about his issues of not feeling appreciated enough, he also was able to learn more about Nate’s interesting history as a man pursuing his third undergraduate degree due to his extreme indecisiveness.

The next semester date grew closer and closer until it was suddenly the day before classes. With their stress now exponentially rising, the two men opted to go out into the crowded college town to drown their sorrows at a local gay bar. While watching some local drag queens perform, the two of them had a blast tipping the girls and getting absolutely wasted. By the time they had reached their cut-off by the bartender, it was only 10:30 PM and the duo were still eager to do stuff around campus. 

Despite hearing the faint murmur of traffic along with the tapping of their soles against the paved pathways, the two drunk men felt oddly serene as they stumbled and staggered throughout campus. Even as they said nothing while continuing to walk, the warm radiating heat of friendship was still present by having the other’s presence around them. Before long though, Sam’s identity as an absolute lightweight caused him to completely lose one of his shoes after tripping over a sidewalk crack. After Nate came to help his friend up, the two men made their way towards a nearby bench to allow the former cross country runner to put his shoe back on. 

After putting the shoe back onto his foot, the two men took a moment to just close their eyes and listen to the sounds of a bustling city. They heard the rustling of animals running through the thick shrubbery, the symphony of horns as cars desperately attempted to escape the college traffic, and even the sound of other students talking as they passed by the two men. However, there was one sound that felt oddly out of place behind them - the sound of water flowing. As their curiosity was piqued, the two men turned their heads slowly behind them, catching sight of the source of the strange noise: a grand fountain. 

Although Sam had walked down this path countless times when heading to classes, the sight before him seemed completely brand new. Could I really have missed a huge fountain, Sam asked to himself, wondering if his head had somehow been shoved so far into a book or his phone to notice such an extravagant piece of art. “Wha- how have I never seen this before?” Sam slurred aloud, turning towards his friend in absolute shock. While he waited for his friend’s response, Sam soon found himself transfixed on the reflection on Nate’s glasses. Within the rectangular yet sleek glasses, he watched as a mix of moving water and metallic specks were reflected back towards him. The sight reminded him of his childhood as memories of heading to the mall with his family reemerged along with visions of using any spare change that his mother gave him to toss into the fountain in order to make a wish. If only wishes could come true, Sam thought to himself, stopping himself as Nate finally began to speak.

“The fountain?” Nate asked, his response suddenly interrupted with an intense hiccup. As he looked towards his friend, he took a moment to adjust the glasses that had slipped past the bridge of his nose due to the intensity of the hiccup.

“Uh y…yeah. I’ve never seen it before, but I s…swear I walk by here all of the time.” Sam replied, his mouth fumbling over his words until he was finally able to complete the phrase.

“Yeah, it’s called the Wishing Fountain,” Sam’s friend said, continuing to inform his friend about the apparently well-known college landmark. As he swayed while doing his best attempt to stand upright, the man continued to reveal information to Sam. “D… did you know that people here think it’s magical? Apparently it grants wishes,” he said, stopping to direct his attention away from the fountain and back towards his friend.

At the first mention of the fountain being magical, Sam couldn’t stop himself from erupting into hysterical laughter. “Pff, no way dude. Magic isn’t real. That’s just a normal fountain. I don’t know who told you that, but I really can’t believe that you were that gullible to believe it,” he retorted, continuing to laugh as Nate stumbled closer to the fountain. While he was easily amused, Sam soon found himself silenced as his friend pointed a finger towards a plaque near the bottom of the fountain.

“Oh yeah? W… well why don’t cha just read it here thennnn?”, he stammered, causing Sam to lean in closer to the plaque to read it. 

To his complete surprise, the plaque perfectly summarized what Nate had been saying: “Oak Point University’s Wishing Fountain”. As Sam continued to read the plaque silently to himself, Nate took the opportunity to sober up temporarily so he could read part of the plaque aloud and prove his friend wrong. “Whoa, it says here that it’s common knowledge for the locals that the fountain can fulfill any wish. What do you have to say about that, Sam?” Nate declared, a clear hint of sarcasm and teasing in his voice as he awaited his friend’s response.

Despite being shocked that his friend hadn’t made up some silly story in his drunken stupor, Sam remained unfazed in his stance that magic wasn’t real and that this was all just dumb superstition. “Yeah, if only that were true bud. Do you actually think it’s real?” Sam said, his eyebrows raising as he awaited his friend’s response.

“I mean, it could be. I dunno, anything’s possible right?”, he declared, his smile widening into a Cheshire-like grin as his eyes gained an excited-looking appearance. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” he said, “You got any quarters?” As he waited for his friend to answer, Nate quickly reached his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts in search of any coin he could use.

As he patted his pockets for a moment, Sam was quick to inform his friend of the bad news. “Nah, I gave away all of my cash when tipping those queens at the bar,” he said, chuckling as he thought back to his experience with them. While it was clear that they lacked the same sort of polish as queens he saw on television, he still had a great time and enjoyed their performances. 

His trip down memory lane was quickly interrupted though as Nate cleared his throat and attempted to get his friend’s attention. As Sam turned his head to stare directly at his friend, his eyes once again caught sight of the reflections of the water and coins littered across the light blue bottom of the fountain. Thinking back to his memories of tossing coins into the fountain of his hometown mall, inspiration struck as he slowly sat himself up and sat on the ledge of the fountain. “Since we don’t have one, why don’t we just grab a quarter already at the bottom?” he said, looking up towards his friend with a devilish grin.

To Sam’s surprise, his friend wasn’t on the same wavelength as him for once as he took a step back and inquisitively raised an eyebrow at the notion. “Why in the hell would you do that? Isn’t that bad luck or something?” he remarked. 

But before he knew it, it was too late as Sam replied with a simple “Eh, I doubt it,” and reached his arm deep into the fountain. While he still wasn’t entirely sold on the idea, Nate followed suit as he reached into the shallow pool. Now with each of them having a quarter in their hand, Nate motioned towards Sam to start his wish.

Taking a moment to close his eyes and figure out what he wanted to wish for, Sam took a deep exhale before opening his eyes and beginning to speak. “I wish to finally be recognized for all of my hard work in college”, he said with a serious tone, flipping the quarter off of his thumb and watching as it dropped right back into the fountain. Turning towards Nate, Sam uttered a simple “your turn” before moving away from the fountain.

Inspired by his friend’s behavior, Nate also closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he formulated his wish in his head. A similar serious demeanor emerged from the man’s voice as he began to finally state his wish. “I wish that I could just stay at this college forever so I could always learn,'' he calmly stated, tossing his coin into the fountain and watching as it quickly sank to the bottom.

With their wishes now complete, the two men turned away from the fountain and faced each other. For the most part, they had been able to keep their composure during the whole experience. But as soon as they looked into each other, their inebriated selves came back in full force as they immediately started to cackle at the superstitious scenario. Putting one arm around each others’ shoulders, the two men turned away from the fountain and slowly began to finish the journey back to their apartment.

“I really hope that this fountain is actually magical,” Nate said, chuckling to himself immediately as he heard how crazy his statement sounded.

But to his relief, Sam shared the same sentiment as he uttered a simple “you and me both” before leading the duo back to their home.

* * * * *

As the droning of his alarm clock stirred him awake, Sam uttered a guttural growl while sitting up to stop the noise and return the room to its natural state of silence. But as his hand came down upon the top of the clock, the college student was surprised by the resounding slap that immediately filled the room. Holy shit my bad, he thought to himself, awkwardly standing up and moving away from his bed as he caught sight of his clock. Somehow, the man had put enough pressure into the palm of his hand to dent the plastic alarm clock with a handprint!

While he wanted nothing more than to try and ponder how this could have happened, the fact that the clock displayed the time 8:45 AM quickly woke Sam out of his drowsiness. In just over an hour, he was going to start his newest semester at Oak Point University with a 100+ person lecture. The mornings were Sam’s personal kryptonite, so the man knew that he needed some extra time to mentally prepare for the course and also to give himself enough time to get ready. Nate often loved to taunt Sam about just how sluggish the man was in the morning, especially when he hadn’t had any coffee yet.

Given their close-knit friendship, both Sam and Nate had opted to start every week with the 10 AM English course. While neither one of them had really paid much attention to what the class was about, both of their counselors had confirmed that the class would fulfill one of their degree requirements. Despite the early time slot, the option to have a class together and thus spend more time together was a no-brainer for the two of them. 

It wasn’t until Sam had quickly paced into the bathroom and begun to undress that he began to recollect the previous night’s events. He remembered getting absolutely wasted doing a shot contest with Nate at a gay bar to the point of losing his shoe and tossing a coin into a fountain to make a wish, but he for some reason felt no hangover effects. His mind had complete clarity and there wasn't even the slightest hint of a migraine rattling around his skull.

While this was strange all by itself, Sam found himself even more perplexed by the strange tightness spread around his body. As he took a moment to look down and observe himself, he quickly realized that both the sleeves and chest area of his shirt felt quite tight. Groaning while assuming that the old community washing machines in the apartment complex had shrunken one of his favorite shirts, he quickly peeled off the shirt and shorts before entering the shower. However, as Sam began to wash his body, he could still feel the strange tightness all around his body. Could it just be from wearing that shirt all night?, Sam asked himself while grabbing the body wash. Upon lathering up the soap in his hands and beginning to scrub every inch of his body, the man soon found himself constantly misjudging his own body’s size as he kept pressing too hard into places like his chest, arms, and legs. The biggest area where this occurred were his arms, where he felt the firmness constantly while lathering up his body. Was it possible that I had irritated some muscles after tripping and stumbling all of the way back home? 

His arms felt surprisingly thicker, which posed some problems for Sam as he found the limbs constantly bumping against the wall and shower door as he twisted and turned to fully clean himself up. Yet as he continued to feel up his body and massage those areas of tightness, Sam’s mouth involuntarily opened as some deep moans and groans escaped from his lips. He hadn’t worked out at all, especially since the stress of the incoming semester had been quite debilitating towards his daily motivation, so the situation was quite peculiar to him. 

However, as he turned the water off and exited the shower, the vision he saw upon wiping away the condensation from the mirror was quite flattering. Immediately, that still-prominent tightness fell to the wayside as he focused more on checking out his own visage. While it was the same face he saw every morning, there was definitely a certain kind of fresh youthfulness that made an already young adult seem younger. He looked incredibly well-rested despite his tendency to be a night owl, as made clear by the faint dark circles around his eyes completely disappearing. In fact, his skin looked more vibrant than ever before, which made Sam both quite happy yet confused.

But remembering that he still had a class to get ready for, the man quickly stopped admiring himself before exiting the bathroom while making his way back to his room. Just as he began to shut his bedroom door, the faint noise of Nate’s alarm clock informed him that his best friend and roommate was finally stirring awake.

Upon drying off and searching through his closet, Sam made his way through his closet in search of something that could endure multiple classes stuck in tight and uncomfortable lecture seating. With his mind now focusing more on comfort rather than style, the man leaned into his cross country past by relying on his go-to comfort look: a sweatshirt and pair of athletic shorts. Luckily, he had a light blue sweatshirt that he had been eager to finally wear around campus, so upon pulling that on along with a black pair of running shorts, Sam’s look for the day was complete. 

Thinking he was running late due to his focus on his reflection in the bathroom, the man quickly turned towards his alarm clock to see how much time he had to spare before the two of them needed to head towards the lecture hall. To his shock, staring at the warped alarm clock revealed that it was only 9:05. With so much free time before his first lecture (which was only a few minutes away by foot), the man cheerfully made his way out of his room and downstairs towards the kitchen to have some breakfast.

Upon brewing a pot of coffee and getting a bowl of cereal, Sam made his way over to the kitchen table while merrily scrolling through his various social media feeds. It was a pleasant surprise for him to feel so energized and upbeat while being up so early, so much so that it made him question whether he should start doing it more often. Just as he started to watch a YouTube video involving two of his favorite drag queens, the sound of shuffling upstairs caused him to pause it and set his phone down.

Taking a sip of coffee in between bites of cereal, Sam gave a wide smile to his friend as Nate sluggishly dragged himself down their set of stairs. “Hey Nate, how’d you sleep last night?” he said, his voice oozing in chipperness that was a surprise to even him.

As his friend reached the bottom of the stairs and began to make his way towards him, Sam’s smile failed to falter despite taking a moment to observe his friend. Something about him looked different, but Sam couldn’t narrow down what it could possibly be. Even as his friend began to speak and provide a negative response to his question, Sam tried his best to remain optimistic and enthusiastic about the day.

“Not great,” Nate said with a yawn, ”I feel hungover and bloated. How about you?”

After breaking his joyful expression to take another bite of his cereal, Sam turned towards his friend and enthusiastically responded. “Oh, I actually feel great,” he said, taking another bite of cereal to punctuate his sentence. “Honestly, I don’t feel hungover at all. I feel absolutely ready to take on the day, boring first-day classes and all!” 

As he sat there and looked at his friend’s solemn expression though, Sam quickly replayed what Nate had said prior to asking how he was doing. Realizing that his response wasn’t a good one, the energized man took a second to look over his friend. While Sam hadn't been able to specify what was different about his friend, he found that the words “hungover” and “bloated” perfectly described the state of Nate.

“Whoa, not to be rude or anything, but you really do kinda look bloated”, he said aloud, still directing his eyes to catch every detail that stuck out to him. His best friend’s eyes were surrounded by intense circles and his skin looked in poor condition which, when paired with his slow-moving actions and constant squinting, made it extremely clear that the man was suffering an intense hangover. Usually the roles were reversed when the two of them went out drinking, so Sam couldn’t help but find some slight amusement by seeing his friend suffering the same way he usually did.

However, there wasn’t any real form of amusement from Sam in regards to Nate’s puffier-looking appearance. He sympathized with his friend, especially as he saw the man’s distended stomach straining against one of Nate’s favorite t-shirts. Did he have some sort of allergic reaction? Sam thought to himself as he continued to stare at his friend.

As Sam was continuing to observe every possible minute detail that seemed off on his friend’s body, his attention was quickly broken by his friend beginning to speak once more.

“I do?” Nate asked. “I was hoping that it was only me who thought that,” he said, trying to lighten the mood with a sincere yet awkward sounding laugh. But just as Sam had taken a moment to closely observe his friend, he soon realized that his friend was doing the same thing to him. “Whoa dude,” he said, moving in a sort of waddle-like stride towards his friend. “You look… kinda buff,” the man continued, his mouth going wide in shock due to such a crazy observation.

While his friend was ogling at his body, Sam was quick to dismiss such a statement. “Nahhhhh,” he scoffed, waving his hand away while blushing at the positive comment. “You actually think so?”

“Yeah, I swear your arms look larger,” Nate said, a slight tone in his voice that Sam felt indicated both shock and slight jealousy. As he took a breath to continue speaking, he was suddenly interrupted by a deep and loud cough. “Whew, sorry about that. Are you sure you haven’t been working out?,” he continued, inquisitively raising an eyebrow while looking at his friend.

The whole hecticness of his friend’s behavior could only cause Sam to laugh as he said a simple “Yes, I’m positive”.

As Nate turned to fill up his water bottle to hopefully remedy his dry throat, Sam took a moment to grab the pot of coffee and pour his friend a cup. Yeah he definitely needs this more than me, he thought as he set the cup to the side for his friend to grab. By the time Nate had taken a seat next to him with the water bottle and bowl of cereal in hand, Sam was already finishing up his own bowl. But despite finishing up, the man continued to sit there with his friend and occasionally sip from his coffee cup.

Upon draining the bowl of the remaining milk, Sam got up from his seat and deposited the bowl and spoon into the sink. As he turned and began to walk back towards the table, he continued to speak once more. “Hopefully the first day of this semester isn’t as boring as all of the other first days. I hate having to go through the syllabus and all of that junk every class”. 

“You know it will be,” Nate pessimistically said as he took one more spoonful of his cereal before realizing that the bowl lacked any cereal. “Hey, could you grab me that cereal box?”, he quickly asked, causing Sam to stop dead in his tracks and turn back to hand him the box. 

Upon returning to the table and setting the box in front of him, Sam watched with curiosity as his friend immediately filled the bowl back up with cereal and dove right back into eating it. Continuing to keep his focus trained on the bowl that was constantly being drained of both milk and cereal, Sam took some more sips of coffee. 

“I don’t know though, I feel like the English classes at least try to spice it up rather than repeating the same old stuff,” Sam interjected once more in hopes of restarting the conversation that had been paused. But as his friend only gave a simple answer of “I suppose” in between spoonfuls of milky cereal, Sam could only watch in slight annoyance as his friend once again refilled his bowl and devoured its contents within a few massive bites. Opting to just sit there in silence, Sam ultimately pulled out his phone and began to wait for his friend to finish up his extra helpings.

Luckily, Nate had quickly devoured his fourth bowl of cereal and finally finished slurping down the now-colored milk remaining in the bowl. As Sam took a moment to check the time on his phone, his heart began to rapidly beat upon realizing that the duo only had  15 minutes to make the 5 minute trek to the lecture hall. Attempting to remain calm, the college student took a moment to put his hands on his hips and stare at his friend who was still just sitting at the kitchen table but now scrolling through his phone.

So as he slowly made his way closer to the table, Sam put his hands on his hips and coughed to get his friend’s attention. “Alright Nathan, let’s get a move on. We need to be out of here in less than 10 minutes. I won’t let myself be late for my first class!” he sternly said, narrowing his eyes as he watched his friend’s mouth go agape at his suddenly unfriendly demeanor. 

As Nate followed his friend’s orders and began to finally sit up and deposit his bowl into the kitchen sink though, the man finally got up the courage to speak up. “Dude, I know you’re excited for class and everything, but what’s up with using my full name? You’ve never called me Nathan before. Do you think you’re my dad or boss or something? How would you like it if I called you Samuel then?” he inquired, a look of understandable confusion emerging on his face as he awaited his friend’s response.

For Samuel though, there was a simmering rage that was slowly forming inside the man’s mind as he clenched his fists and attempted to remain calm. He certainly didn’t mind his friend calling him by his full name, but he did in fact have issues with Nathan suddenly questioning his behavior. “Well, given the fact that you want to just wait around and eat nearly a box full of cereal, one of us has to be the adult here to make sure we make it to class on time. Now I’m done arguing about this, let’s get going before we’re late,” he curtly said, giving no time for Nathan to respond before quickly rushing up the stairs of their apartment and leaving his extremely lethargic friend by himself.

* * * * *

As the two friends made the short trek towards the lecture hall, Samuel was feeling even more enthusiastic with each passing step. Continuing to have the same wide grin on his face, the man immediately stood out from the slew of other college students with dower expressions on their faces. It was shocking to him to feel so absolutely stoked to begin classes, but given the fact that the alternative of being stressed and risking burn-out, he wasn’t willing to deeply question it for his own mental and physical stability.

Throughout the journey, Samuel found himself getting so overeager and excited that he found himself breaking away from Nathan due to his passionately rapid pacing. Almost every time he passed a corner or traversed up a set of stairs, the man often was left stopping and patiently waiting for his friend to follow him. It wasn’t uncommon for Samuel to be faster than his friend, especially given his history as a cross country runner with decent stamina, but Nathan was seemingly moving at a snail’s pace compared to him. Clearly their night of drunken hijinks was negatively affecting him, but this was even more so given Nathan’s usually dislike of early morning awakenings. 

Upon catching sight of the lecture hall, Samuel once again rushed up yet another staircase before turning to his friend. Seeing Nathan in such an abysmally lethargic state, the man once again tried to lighten the mood with his charming personality. “Well, here it is,” he merrily said, outstretching his arms to gesture towards the building as if it was a brand new car. As his friend gave a slight yet forced smile and passed by Samuel’s extended limbs, the overeager student pulled open the door for his friend before following him inside.

Passing through a sea of students trying to leave the building, the two felt like salmon swimming upstream as they struggled yet ultimately managed to make their way to the designated lecture hall. Walking in, Samuel smiled like a kid in a candy shop as his mouth dropped at the sight of the room. Usually, these English courses were rather small in terms of class size, but this hall had at least 100 students in it already with more still trying to make their way inside.

The size was quickly becoming intimidating and irritating for the duo though as they desperately scanned the room in search of a place where they could sit together. Luckily after a few times of scanning the room, Samuel was able to locate two empty seats up towards the upper rows in the back of the auditorium. Pointing towards the seats to indicate where he was going, the man used his stamina to his advantage to quickly secure the seats so no one else could take them.

While his friend slowly lumbered up the stairs, Samuel took the opportunity to quickly unzip his backpack and begin to pull out the necessary items for the course. While he was too busy leaning in to rummage through the bag to search for Nathan, it quickly became clear that he had arrived based on the resounding creak of the chair next to him. Turning towards his friend, Samuel watched as his friend’s cheeks turned a pink shade and he quickly wiped his brow. Jeez, he really is looking bigger than I remembered, Samuel thought to himself as he looked at the sight before him. Not only was sweat continuing to drip down the man’s face from such light physical activity, but the man’s bloated stomach was now fighting against the tabletop attached to the chair. Maybe I can convince him to start going on runs around campus with me, he thought once more, thinking about how great it would be to expend some energy with some physical activity.

Although he felt like he wanted to be a good friend and think of a plan to help his friend feel and look better, Samuel didn’t want to run the risk of having his self-conscious friend see him intently staring at his bulkier body. So, he quickly averted his eyes away from his friend and back towards the backpack while finishing to grab and pull out the necessary items for the lecture. 

But as he continued to do this, a sudden groan came from his friend and caused Samuel to look at his friend. To his shock, he watched as his friend found himself unable to move below the tabletop to grasp onto his backpack. Staring at Nathan’s stomach, he quickly realized that the thick and bulky stomach that he had was severely restricting his flexibility.

Setting his notebook onto the table, Samuel attempted to turn and check up on his friend. “Whoa, are you okay?” he asked, feeling quite sad for his friend due to the extreme look of discomfort plastered all over his still-sweaty face.

“Y..yeah… I think,” Nathan replied, but it was quickly clear that neither one of them believed what he was saying. In an attempt to remedy the issue, Samuel watched as Nathan tried to sit up and adjust himself to hopefully alleviate his discomfort. Watching as Nathan’s face shifted to slight relief as he took a deep sigh, Samuel himself mimicked the same expression.

However, this relief was ill-fated as Nathan’s gut began to loudly gurgle. In many ways, Samuel felt as if the gut was resisting the concept of finding any sort of relief or comfort.

“Uh, are you sure?” he asked, clearly unconvinced as his words were spoken over his stomach’s continued gurgling. 

As if the universe was trying to respond for Nathan, a loud “PING!” rang out throughout the entire lecture hall to give Samuel an immediate answer: No, Nathan was not ok. Watching as a dark object flew out from the chair and ricocheted up from the chair in front of them, Samuel’s eyes immediately transfixed on its journey as it quickly fell to the ground and skidded across the staircase. While his friend gave a simple “oof”, Samuel leaned past his friend and looked down to see the object now that it had settled down onto the ground. It was a button, and more importantly, the one from Nathan’s khaki shorts.

Turning to look at his friend once more, Samuel was understandably shocked to see a sliver of Nathan’s gut fully exposed in between the slight reveal of his boxer briefs from the pants popping and the riding up of his shirt due to the continued bloatedness. While it wasn’t scientifically possible, Samuel couldn’t help but feel as if the man was bigger than he was after breakfast.

But when the man suddenly grimaced and groaned, Samuel let out an audible gasp as his hands quickly moved towards his stomach and grasped onto it. “Holy shit, are you ok?” he inquired, wide-eyed and confused by what was happening to his friend. 

As Nathan moved as fast as he could into an upright position, the bright red cheeks he had quickly informed Samuel that he was feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. Trying to think of the best course of action, he assumed that a sudden exit from the classroom would only draw more lingering eyes on his friend. As such, he believed that the best thing to do would be to get his friend to calm down and explain what’s going on.

“I… I think I need to leave Samil,” Nathan nervously said, turning away as he began to slowly make his way into the aisle to rush down the staircase. 

Knowing that this wasn’t the best idea, the lankier man quickly hopped up onto his feet  in an attempt to help calm his friend down. In his haste, Samuel was completely oblivious to the different name that Nathan had called him. As such, reality further altered until the man believed that his name had always been Samil. “Whoa, whoa, Nathal tell me what’s going on. How can I help?” he interjected, moving one arm to place a hand onto the overweight man’s broad shoulder. As he did so, he was blissfully unaware of the fact that he had also called his friend a different name and further altered reality to fit that new name.

The move didn’t work though, as Nathal turned to let Samil’s hand fall to the side while making his way down the staircase and out of the classroom. As Samil made his way back into his seat, he silently wished that his friend was able to exit the room quickly so he could come back and return before the class officially started. Luckily, the professor was a few minutes late, which could work in Nate’s favor. But unfortunately, the lethargic pace Nathal had moved with earlier had seemingly slowed down even more as it took him several minutes before finally descending the staircase and exiting out of the classroom. Now completely alone, Samil awkwardly awaited and hoped that his friend would return soon…

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