Lost A Lot Of My Stories When I Deactivated My Old Blog, But I Managed To Find This One. Its Been One

Lost a lot of my stories when I deactivated my old blog, but I managed to find this one. It’s been one of my most popular, and the guy in the picture in super hot!

Caleb rested on the dock, trying to ignore the drunken antics of his so-called friends and past football teammates. The stud had reluctantly decided to go back home for a visit during break from college, irritated over his southern small town’s simple way of thinking and living.

The muscled up country boy had spent years at college trying to dispel the stereotype of the less than intelligent redneck, irked that many of the students who were from more metro areas automatically viewed him as inferior or stupid. That led to Caleb taking incredible joy in the surprised looks on their faces whenever he would “casually” drop into conversation that he had a full merit scholarship for the university’s computer engineering program. He’d even fought hard to hide his southern accent so that people wouldn’t make false comparisons between him and a hick. His 129 IQ was something he was extremely boastful about, and now as he was at the lake with some of his old friends he’d left behind, he was quickly realizing that he’d outgrown them.

“Hey man, why ya sittin’ here by yourself?” the old quarterback, BJ, asked him as he sat by him on the dock, playfully nudging his broad shoulder.

Caleb inwardly cringed at the pronounced southern accent that only grew more prominent the more beers the guy drank. He ignored it and shrugged. “I guess I’m just not that excited to be home,” he admitted. “I was thinking about heading back early.”

BJ mock frowned. “Pussy,” he teased, handing the annoyed man a beer. “Just drink up and you’ll feel a lot better.”

Caleb took the offered bottle that didn’t have a label because it was most likely bootlegged. He waited until BJ had wandered off to go be a nuisance elsewhere before rolling his eyes. Still, a beer was a beer.

Caleb took a deep gulp of the bitter drink, grimacing a little from the intense alcoholic aftertaste.

“Whoa doggy!” Caleb whistled loudly out of instinct, wincing at the backwoods phrase he’d unintentionally uttered. He cleared his throat and pulled his phone out to read up on some engineering articles so that he could maintain his number one position in class.

As the stud read some of the articles, he knitted his eyebrows together. Normally the genius could tear his way through countless scientific articles in an hour. However, for some reason, Caleb found himself struggling to concentrate. A thick fog seemed to be forming in his head, clouding his thinking and making it difficult to understand what he was reading.

“Ma-macheen— Machin… uh?” Caleb tried to sound out M-A-C-H-I-N-E-R-Y, struggling to figure out what the letters spelt out. In fact, all the letters on his phone screen didn’t make any sense at all.

BJ smirked over at his friend, enjoying the sight of the hunk scratching at his head absentminded as he stared intently at his phone. “Doin’ alright over there, Smart Guy?” he called out.

Caleb looked up from the confusing words on his screen, glancing over at his shirtless friend. “I can’t figure out none of these words on my dang ol’ phone!” he answered, his southern accent back into his voice full force, even stronger than when he’d left for university. He paused and thought that something sounded weird, that something was wrong. However the fog in his head thickened and all Caleb could seem to focus on was BJ’s thick, meaty pecs and the large bulge in his trunks.

One of the other guys began to laugh. “Damn, BJ, you gave it to him?” he called out.

Gave what to who? Caleb struggled to grasp what was happening, but it was getting so hard to think. His thoughts seemed to melt in his head, no matter how desperately he grasped at them. He would force himself to think of something in one of his lectures, like cir… circuit… uh, something. Caleb’s heart began to race in his beefy chest as he slowly began to piece together that something was indeed wrong.

He stood up and took a step forward before he got distracted by his reflection in the lake. The man who stared back had an empty, glazed look in his blue eyes and his jaw was hanging open. Then he got distracted by the way his own meaty pecs moved whenever he took a heavy step.

Caleb dimly giggled. “Hey y’all!” he called out in his country boy accent. “Check out mah tits!” He bounced his large pecs, laughing to himself as the large mounds bounced and jiggled in front of him.

The rest of his friends began to laugh at him, some even cheering him on.

Caleb didn’t know why his friends were laughing, but they seemed to really enjoy the way his pecs bounced, so he kept on giving them a show, a dim smile on his handsome face.

“Dude’s gotta be stupider than a flat tire,” one of his hick friends mocked him.

Stupid? Caleb wasn’t stupid, he was a genius. He was smarter than his bumpkin friends and they were all super jealous of it. He opened his mouth to offer a retort, spill some knowledge about what he’d learned in university, but he struggled to even remember sitting in a lecture at all.

The muscled dummy gasped loudly as he realized what was wrong.

“What’s up?” BJ patronizingly asked, wrapping a buff arm around his broad shoulders.

Caleb forced himself to look away from his friend’s muscles, which felt like a herculean feat. “Bro!” he whined, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “My head feels slower than a three-legged dog!” His accent was so exaggerated it was comical now, making him wince. “What’s wrong with me?”

BJ smirked as he rubbed a comforting hand over Caleb’s large pectorals, making the idiot whimper and shiver. “You poor dumb redneck,” he cooed. “We all got tired of you thinkin’ you were better than us all ‘cause you went to that fancy school.”

“I’m not some dumb redneck!” Caleb tried to argue, but when he stomped his foot again, his pecs bounced from the motion and he got distracted and started to squeeze them, moaning loudly for the other guys to hear.

“If I had to place a bet,” BJ smirked, “I’d say that 129 IQ of yours is probably down to 60. You’re good for nothin’ but fuckin’. You’ve got to be the dumbest redneck I ever did see.”

The fog continued to thicken in Caleb’s mind, and he was lost in the sensation of his strong hands fondling his own meaty pecs. It didn’t take long before the other guys joined in on the action, feeling up the stud’s muscles. All the while the redneck howled, happy to be back home with his fellow hicks.

For @dinobot200

– – –

Matt was relieved when he finally saw the rest stop coming into view. The young man was driving across the country to college, and after spending countless hours on the road, he was starting to wish that he’d flown. Yawning loudly, he followed the bright neon lights that advertised the restaurant at the rest stop, making sure to pull up near the front.

The baseball stud was so caught up in the prospect of getting out of his cramped car and drinking some coffee that in his haste, he swung his door right into the truck that was parked next to him.

The eighteen year old winced as he looked over the large dent that he’d created in the expensive, lifted truck that was parked next to him. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he assessed the damage before quickly glancing around the parking lot, relieved to see that no one had witnessed what he’d done.

Thinking quickly, Matt rapidly pulled out of his spot and parked across the lot, far away from the cosmetically altered truck. After hiding away, the jock forced a nonchalant expression onto his youthful face and entered the rest stop diner, pretending that there was nothing wrong at all.

Matt took a seat at the counter, far away from the few patrons who were also visiting.

The waiter, a portly older man with a bushy beard, smiled warmly at him as he approached, handing him a menu. “Welcome,” he grinned and greeted in a deep voice, “I’ll be right with you.”

Matt nodded silently as he grabbed one of the laminated menus that was on the counter, glancing over what was offered when he heard the groaning of the seat right next to his indicating someone sitting down. The young man glanced out of his peripherals at the older man next to him, quietly judging the fact that he was dressed in black leather from head to toe, looking like some stereotypical biker. The man had a sizable gut that rested atop his lap, and a graying beard that shrouded the view of his double chin. The older man looked over at the young jock from over his sunglasses, narrowing his eyes as he smirked knowingly.

“Now what brings you out here, Little One?” the older man asked, his deep voice so full of baritone that it was the epitome of manliness.

Matt couldn’t help but shudder at the condescending nickname given to him by the weird biker-looking guy. “Uh,” he murmured, unsure why he felt so intimidated under the stare of the larger man. He was an athlete and used to throwing his weight around to get what he wanted, whether it be from forcing scrawny nerds to do class projects for him or by flexing his massive muscles to get some chick to sleep with him. That being said, he wasn’t used to the feeling of being small next to such an imposing figure. “I’m on my way to college.”

The older man crossed his arms in front of his beefy chest, illustrating that there was a lot of muscle underneath the thick layer of fat. The way his imposing arms stretched his leather to bursting at the seams and the sight of his puffy pecs squishing together sent an odd shiver down the jock’s spine, making him grow flush as his heart sped up.

“College?” the older man snorted.  “Little thing like you is smart enough to go to college?”

Before Matt could retort, a cup of coffee was placed down in front of him by the waiter, who grinned at the older man knowingly. 

“I didn’t order yet…” Matt trailed off, but the waiter had already disappeared to the back kitchen. Shrugging to himself, the jock lifted the cup of coffee and took a tentative sip, swallowing down the bitter liquid while oblivious to the triumphant smirk of the older man beside him. 

“Name’s Dominik, or Dom for short, by the way,” the older man grunted. “And I’m the owner of the truck you hit.”

Matt coughed and fought not to drop his hot cup of coffee in shock. “Um, wh-what are you talking about?” he stuttered, failing to look innocent as redness formed on his smooth cheeks. 

Dom just continued to stare down at the young man, seemingly amused as his small grin was obscured by his beard.

Before Matt could apologize or come up with a lie (most likely the second), the stud felt a  slight pressure in his abdomen. Instinctively, the baseball player reached down to rub at his stomach, but his eyes widened and he couldn’t hold back the shocked gasp when his hand brushed up against his shirt which felt stiffer than normal.

Matt worriedly looked down, not sure what he’d see, but confusion was written all over his youthful face as his blue t-shirt appeared to harden before his eyes. At first he thought it was a trick of the lights, but soon Matt realized something else was afoot when he saw the blue fabric steadily darken until it turned midnight black, the softness of the cotton getting rougher by the second. The middle somehow split from top to bottom, exposing the college jock’s flat stomach and chiseled abs. Matt was speechless as he witnessed the new black fabric of his shirt crawl down his bulging arms until it looked as if he had a long-sleeved, opened jacket on. His pants were next in line for whatever transformation was affecting his clothes. They lost their blue hue, becoming a dark black as well. The denim material hardened too, becoming stiff and thick. It got worse for the frazzled jock when the crotch and back of his new leather pants evaporated into thin air, leaving his cock and ass completely exposed to the older man.

“Wh-what happened?!” Matt panicked aloud, looking down at his new outfit in horror. He was dressed like some leather-loving fetishist. The jacket that was open to show off his toned torso with the leather chaps that showed off his privates to the other patrons in the diner was enough to make his face beet red.

“Just relax,” Dom chuckled, licking his full lips tantalizingly. “You’re well on your way.”

The poor, panicked stud didn’t have time to ask what Dom meant by that before his stomach began to gurgle loudly. Matt’s jaw dropped in horror as he watched his chiseled abs churn and steadily lose their definition before pushing out. The athlete grabbed at his inflating gut in a panic as it bubbled out in front of him, pushing outwards more and more until it rested completely on his lap. Even his pecs lost their toned image as they packed on more meat, getting larger as they gained more fat and turned into an impressive set of moobs with stretched nipples the size of silver dollars. The growth carried on to his arms which lost their bulginess as they inflated, becoming large and cumbersome as they stretched the leather jacket sleeves to the limit. His legs were next as they puffed out, thighs pressing together so much that his saunter would now be a humiliating waddle. And his butt blew to epic proportions, becoming bulbous and jiggling as it was stuck on display, jutting through the cutout of the back of his new chaps. Matt couldn’t tell if it was due to the weight gain or if it was shrinking, but he uttered a pitiful whimper as his cock rocketed to life, looking comically small attached to his huge body. As a final touch, an itchy sensation spread all over the changing jock as hair began to sprout, covering every inch of his previously smooth skin. The itchy feeling was greatest on his face as a large bushy beard grew, obscuring the lower half of his face and reaching all the way down to the cleavage of his moobs.

When he was done, Matt no longer resembled the muscled-up, youthful jock who was on his way to college. Instead he came off as some chubby leather-wearing sub who had a big butt and a tiny cock.

“What did you do to me?” Matt gasped, his shaking hands feeling over his massive, jiggling body. Despite his fear, he couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation of his hands brushing up against his hairy skin, quickly learning that it was much more sensitive than it should’ve been, and the hair only magnified that sensation as it acted like little sensors. 

He didn’t notice it when Dom leaned over and fastened a leather collar around his neck, a leash attached to it which he kept in his beefy hand. “You’re gonna be my pet,” he snorted, yanking on the leash which made Matt jolt out of his seat. “Now c’mon, let’s go home so we can get you broken in.”

Helpless and resigned to his fate, Matt’s new beard partially hid his deep blush as he waddled behind the dominant man. His body jiggled in unfamiliar ways while he moved, his thighs rolling over each other and his massive and exposed ass bouncing with every step. His tiny cock was rock hard as his eyes couldn’t look away from the firm ass of his owner, alerting him to another change. Matt’s heart dropped while simultaneously speeding up as he drooled over the sight of the older man before him— his broad shoulders and firm ass making his pathetic nub throb with want.

He was so busy staring at Dom that he barely registered when they’d walked up to his truck, which had the large dent he’d caused. 

“Go ahead and get in the back,” Dom ordered, lowering the tailgate.

Without any part on his own, Matt felt his cubby new limbs move forward and propel him into the truck bed, where he’d ride to Dom’s place for all to gawk at his inflated form. He was beyond humiliated and wanted nothing more than to return to his old body… but a growing part deep inside of him was excited over the prospect of getting his massive bubblebutt fucked while his tiny cock bobbed uselessly. He was already dripping pre-cum at the thought.

“Hold on tight!” Dom barked as he started up the truck. “And don’t worry, I’ll think about turning’ ya back in a year or two! Maybe…”

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 

The Cursed Gym 4

Winston pulled up into the gym parking lot, finding a space that was right in front. The hunk was already shirtless and readied himself to take a selfie for his Instagram so that he could gain more followers. 

“Obligatory gym selfie,” the stud laughed to himself. He gave a sly grin and snapped a pic.

When he went to add a caption, the hunk paused when he saw himself in the picture pursing his lips instead of smiling like he was supposed to be. He deleted it and tried again, opting to forgo the smile and look serious instead.

Winston huffed when he looked at the picture and, again, he was pursing his lips. Only this time, they looked a little bigger, almost fuller even.

The stud shrugged his broad shoulders and thought that he must’ve left some kind of filter on when he caught sight of his reflection in the rearview mirror. Winston jerked back in shock as he saw himself pursing his lips seductively in the mirror, and even when he noticed, he couldn’t stop.

The stud was horrified that he couldn’t stop puckering his lips, and not only that, but they definitely were bigger and fuller.

“Like, OMG, what even happened to my lips?” Winston whined, exaggeratedly gasping loudly when he heard himself speak. “Like, what– *cough, what is even wrong with… why can’t I, like, talk normally?” No matter how many times he cleared his throat or focused, the hunk couldn’t shake his new valley girl dialect.

Winston was so caught up in what was happening that he barely registered when another guy walked by his car and caught sight of him, giving him a playful wink. “Those are some nice DSL’s ya got there,” he teased, sending an odd shiver down Winston’s spine.

His body acting on its own, Winston opened up the door. “Well, like, why don’t you try ‘em out,” he giggled, screaming at himself as he helplessly puckered his large lips at the other man.

For @pandemonius-fae-ri 

– – –

“Damn it!” Callum hissed as he quickly pulled up into his driveway, running a shaking hand through his hair, still annoyed that he was trapped under the hypnotic orders from that little shit, Elliot. Sighing, he glanced down at his crotch in utter frustration, his rock hard eight inches still tenting his workout shorts.

The jock had known Elliot since high school, and would always fuck with the smaller man due to his size and the fact that he was only gay guy he knew in their small town. That continued onward to community college where Callum would torment the gay man even more. However, that changed this morning when Callum had run into the little guy in the locker room, and Elliot had been wearing some oddly colored sunglasses, the light glimmering off of them alluring.

“Since you’re such a dick,” he’d told Callum, “enjoy showing yours off all the time.”

That was all it’d taken for Callum to walk around twenty-four/seven with his large, erect cock perpetually bobbing in front of him. No matter how much he’d tried to jerk off or think of something unappealing, he wouldn’t go flaccid. What was worse for the stud was that he couldn’t bring his muscled arms to cover it up. He would grit his teeth as he tried with all of his might to shield his boner from his classmates, but it was helpless as his body refused to cooperate, allowing his cock to be on display.

The red-faced jock quickly rushed out of his truck and hurried inside the house before any of his neighbors could see him. He was planning on dashing upstairs to his room to try and do some research on how to fix this problem he was having. He was halfway up the staircase when he heard his dad call out.

“Hey Hon! How was your day at school?” his dad asked, or more appropriately chirped in a higher-pitched and flamboyant register.

Callum cocked his eyebrow and cautiously looked over his broad shoulder, trying to shield his permanently hard cock from the older man.

Callum’s father was a total man’s man, who had been an athlete back in his prime. He was a construction worker who still had muscles for days which had always had plenty of women lusting over him and he was always up for the offer, which was part of the reason why Callum’s mother had moved out. The studly older man was masculine to the extreme, always seeing gay men and anything feminine as beneath him, which was why Callum grew up to have the bullying attitude he had. However, that older jock was nowhere to be seen.

Callum’s eyes bugged out of his skull as he stared at the warped version of his father who stood at the foot of the stairs. The man standing in his place was some ditzy, himbo looking gay man. He was shaved from the eyebrows down, allowing his smooth body to be completely on display. The only article of clothing the older man wore was a skimpy thong that did almost nothing to contain his massive cock and balls that created a large bulge that was thrusted out in front of him. His pecs were large and shaven, his nipples looking hard as they protruded off his chest like some pornstar’s. His hair was now a bleach blond and it was styled in a coif that looked completely out of place on the older man’s body. All of his muscles in fact seemed to be slightly pumped, as if he’d just finished a workout, but they were dusted with what appeared to be glitter, causing the older muscled man to shimmer under the lights in the house. He seemed to be staring at his son with a permanent duck face, his lips pursed and covered in shiny gloss.

“D-Dad? Is that you?” Callum gawked, his voice drying up in his throat. To make matters worse, Callum winced internally at his own hypnotic curse which caused his rock hard cock to throb as he stared at the changed man.

The altered man rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and put his hands on his trimmed hips. “Duh!” he giggled. “Like, who would it even be? Silly!” His father was usually a man of little words, and would often just grunt or bark out a few words here and there. The ditzy, valley girl diction with which he spoke was completely out of place, completing his new himbo visage.

“Do you like his new look?” Elliot’s teasing voice rang out, the scrawny nerd coming out from around the corner to wrap his thin arms around the older man’s waist.

On cue, Callum’s dad cooed and leaned into the hug, grinding his booty up against the younger man hungrily as he kept his puffed up lips pursed.

“You son of a bitch!” Callum growled and tried to stalk forward threateningly, but his hard cock bobbing in front of him ruined the effect. “What the fuck did you do to him?!”

Elliot mock-frowned. “Don’t worry about a thing, Callum,” he chided. “Your dad here has had a little change of heart. He was too boring and stuck up as some boring straight guy, which is why I decided to do him a favor and give him a brand new outlook on life. Just look at him: he loves his new himbo life.”

“New?” Callum’s dad jerked back with a loud gasp. “Like, what do you even mean, Babe? I’ve always been a himbo. Just check it out!” He turned around and leaned forward, twerking his massive glutes which swallowed the back of his thong with ease.

“See?” Elliot smirked at the shocked jock who couldn’t help but watch his father twerk. “Your dim-witted, slutty himbo daddy now thinks that he’s always been this way. Which is really perfect, considering that he also thinks that he and I are an item, which makes fucking him all the more fun.”

Callum paled and he struggled to find the words to describe his disgust at the thought of the scrawny gay nerd fucking his formerly straight father.

His dad finally noticed the white, horrified look on his son’s face and he stuck out his lower lip in a large frown. “Aww, what’s wrong Sweetie?” he cooed and walked over, his gait altered so that he minced his steps to wag his bubblebutt, and his shoulders were drawn back to thrust his pecs out. “Like, c’mere and give your daddy a hug!”

Callum tensed up as his himbo dad wrapped his buff arms around him and yanked him into a hug, shoving his face into his plump pecs. Callum wished that he could be free of his own hypnotic nightmare so that he wouldn’t be hard hugging his father right now, and then he could possibly save his dad from a himbo fate where he would get fucked by a tiny gay guy all the time. 

Elliot relished in the sight before him, seeing the formerly masculine patriarch clad in nothing but a slutty thong hugging the blushing jock who used to torment him nonstop. Deciding to up the ante, he reached over and playfully smacked the dad’s exposed ass, causing him to shudder and let out a moan.

“Babe, why don’t we leave Callum alone for a bit?” he laughed. “He’s had a rough day. Besides, let me work out that slutty butt of yours some more.”

Callum’s dad let go of him and quickly rushed, his jiggling butt happily hopping up the stairs, eager to get stuffed. “Like, hurry up!” he called out over his bare shoulder as he hurried to the bedroom.

Callum’s broad shoulders slumped and he hung his head, feeling even lower when he caught sight of his still hard cock.

“Don’t worry,” Elliot teased him, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll take good care of your old man. And besides…” there was an evil grin audible in his voice. “…I think we can be one big happy family. I mean, I never noticed how much you took after your father.”

“Family? What are you talking about?” Callum bristled before flinching when he saw that Elliot was wearing the hypnotic glasses again.

“‘What am I talking about?’” Elliot repeated, his voice low and drawn out as the light reflecting off the glasses shimmered. “Well, we’ve all the heard the new expression: ‘Like himbo father, like himbo son.’”

A tingling sensation formed in Callum’s head, starting to make his thoughts feel all slow and foggy. “W-wait! I don’t want to, like, even be a himbo!” he begged, images of rock hard cocks and huge pecs starting to filter into his mind…

My favorite professor is over worked and exhausted, he's such a good guy and I want to help him relax. I wish he was a young, dumb, jock who didn't have to worry about work, or papers, or deadlines. Also maybe I could be a jock too and be his buddy?

You made your wish as you sat in the lecture hall, taking a seat in the first row as you tried to pay attention to the chemical equations protected onto the board.

"...and as you can see from this formula here, the resulting reaction..." your professor, Prof. Andrews, droned. He looked incredibly drained and like he could collapse at any second. He was your favorite professor, always quick to friendly interact with the students, and looking really handsome whenever he grinned their way. Therefore, you felt horrible as the older man struggled to teach a lecture on chemical equations.

You sighed to yourself out of compassionate guilt and scribbled down some notes in your notebook, glancing down at your paper for a brief moment. When you looked back up at Prof. Andrews, you flinched back in confused wonder.

Prof. Andrews still tiredly taught up in front of the class, but you could've sworn that his skin looked a bit darker. It was as if he'd been going to a tanning salon or had spent days out under the sun. His face had a golden hue, hiding some of his eye wrinkles. "...looking at the reactant side, you can discern that the compounds involved are..."

You rubbed at your own eyes, figuring that you were just tired from Finals Week and were finally cracking. However, the second you reopened them, you were greeted with another sight.

The older man's hair had been a salt-and-pepper color and had been cut in a standard, cheap high and tight style. However, now he had deep chocolate brown hair atop his head, and it had been slightly lengthened and stylized into a more modern fashion. Even more shocking was that his previously smooth face now had a trimmed beard, his lips looking slightly more plump as they were framed by the new hair.

"What is going on?" you whispered under your breath. You took a quick look around the room to see if any of the other students were noticing this too, but they were all taking copious notes or staring uninterestedly at the presentation, somehow unaware of Prof. Andrews's changes.

When you looked back at the professor, you couldn't suppress your surprised gasp.

"...and then, like, the metals will totally form a really suuuuuper reactive thing..." Prof. Andrews chirped, his hands waving around wildly as he spoke in his new ditzy dialect. What was even more shocking was that the older man was now wearing nothing but a bright yellow poser which popped against his tanned skin. The man was actually packing, the pouch of the skimpy suit struggling to contain his large cock. The back of them was slipped between his cheeks. He wasn't entirely unfit, but there was a slight beer gut that protruded over the front of the posers and he had love-handles.

"What the fuck is, like, even happening right now?" you muttered to yourself, too shocked to notice the ditzy quality to your own voice. Again, you did a double take at the other students who didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

You looked back over at Prof. Andrews, jerking back in your seat at the muscled hunk who stood in his place. Where the older professor was supposed to be, was some tan, muscle-bound himbo-looking stud. The stud wore skimpy posers and his muscles were large with power and glistened underneath the fluorescent lights in the classroom. He kept waving his hands around flamboyantly as he spoke, sounding like a dim muscleslut.

"And, like, that's totally it for the lecture," the altered Prof. Andrews smiled widely. "Class is dismissed."

The other students quickly stood up and exited the room, leaving just you and the professor by yourselves. Taking this opportunity, you shot out of your chair and hurried up to the front.

"Prof. Andrews!" you cried. "Like, what even happened to you? You look so sexy!" You flinched when your words hit your ears and when it dawned on you that you felt the room's A/C blowing over exposed skin.

You looked down at yourself and gasped when you saw that you'd undergone a similar transformation. Your muscles had inflated and your skin had tanned to make you look like a beach muscleslut, clad in tiny blue posers that did little to hide your large cock from view.

You were speechless as you explored your new body, unsure what had happened to you or the professor. The two of you had been transformed into identical twin musclesluts, looking like you two were perpetually ready for some kind of gogo dance.

In a panic, you looked up at Prof. Andrews to ask for help, to try and figure out a way to return to your old bodies. However, your words evaporated in your thick throat when you saw the large, albeit dim, grin plastered on the professor's youthful face. He no longer looked tired and instead appeared a lot more ecstatic and excited as his large muscles twitched with anticipation as he ran his eyes up and down your bulging form.

"Ready to earn some extra credit, Stud?" he asked, reached over to teasingly pinch one of your protruding nipples.

You could only moan as you flexed your inflated ass, eagerly tailing the new slutty professor into his office.

Jose stepped out onto the stage, ready to show off for the heavyweight class at the bodybuilding competition. As the muscle giant moved from pose to pose, he took immense pleasure in the awestruck eyes from the crowd who took in his vast form and admired his hard-earned muscles.

The stud formed a double-biceps pose, a smile wide on his handsome face as he knew that first place was well within sight. Jose continued to show off when his large, eight inch cock began to stir to life. Sure he took pride in his physique and he loved to show off, but the muscle man had never gotten hard while posing before, and his face reddened as his hard cock threatened to spring out of his tight poser.

Before he could properly react, Jose’s face went from red with embarrassment to pale with horror as he witnessed his own cock starting to shrink before his very eyes.

As it throbbed, Jose’s hard cock slowly pulled inwards, losing length and girth with each passing second. The crowd was stunned too, and gasps were heard as numerous people saw his eight inch cock shrink down, making the pouch of his posers go from looking stuffed with a banana to having a bunch of loose fabric from ample room.

Jose hurried off the stage, wincing internally as he ran due to the absent sensation of his junk as he moved. Once he was clear from the eyes of the crowd, the bodybuilder took a deep breath and pulled his posers down.

“What the fuck?!” he cried, his eyes going wide at the little nub that he now possessed. His eight inch cock was gone, replaced with a one inch cocklet that barely poked against his previously-stuffed posers, and his balls were tight against his skin and appeared more like grapes. Panicking, Jose had no idea why this had happened or what he could do to rectify it.

The now micro-dicked bodybuilder rushed off, beyond humiliated that his cock had shrank in front of a large crowd of people, and that his phone was blowing up with notifications filled with clips of the whole ordeal that was being posted online for all to see.