Cole Strutted Into The Locker Room With His Head Held High. The College Jock Puffed Out His Hairy Chest

Cole strutted into the locker room with his head held high. The college jock puffed out his hairy chest and forced a smirk on his face. As he changed into his gym shorts and tank top, his friend, Jason, walked up and started to change too.

“Hey man,” he said. “How’d your date go with Jessie last night?”

Cole shook his head and chuckled. “She’s a fuckin’ weirdo,” he laughed. “She was going on and on about some moon ritual and healing crystals. I just said I had to go to the bathroom and dipped. There’s no way I wanna date some witch-wannabe.” He checked himself out in the mirror at the end of his explanation, admiring how his spandex shorts showed off his toned cheeks and how his bulging, hairy pecs stretched his tank top to the limit.

Jason burst out into hysterics and clapped his friend on his beefy shoulder. “You’re such an ass,” he laughed.

Cole laughed too, but stopped when he felt a throbbing sensation in his glutes. He winced and looked down at them, not seeing anything wrong. He figured it was just a spasm or maybe he was still a little banged up from one of his games.

“Ready?” Jason asked when he finished changing. “I need to do legs, so you gotta spot me.”

Cole snickered. “Yeah, with those chicken legs of yours, you need tons of help,” he teased, pointing at Jason’s slimmer form.

Jason just snorted and rolled his eyes. “You are an ass,” he jokingly countered.

Cole winced again when he felt that odd throb in his butt; but as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. He shook it off and trailed behind his friend towards the squat rack for leg day. As he moved, he could’ve sworn that his gait felt off. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it was almost as if there was more weight— he felt heavier somehow.

Cocking an eyebrow, the confused muscle stud looked down at himself, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He had partied pretty hard over the weekend, so perhaps all the beer he’d had was making him pack on a little weight. He shrugged it off and began to set the weights onto the bar for Jason.

His friend positioned himself under the bar and began to perform reps, but when he squatted down, Cole noticed that his form was a little off.

“Wait,” he said, having him rack up the bar. “Let me show you how so you don’t break your back like some old man.” He arrogantly pushed the other guy out of the way and positioned the bar on his own larger traps.

“Wow, thanks,” Jason said sarcastically, “…ass.”

Cole squatted down, that throb hitting his ass like a freight train, making him gasp. He straightened back up immediately and put the bar back on the rack in confusion. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he wondered quietly. He was starting to consider going to physical therapy, a little fearful he might’ve pulled something.

“Oh damn,” Jason whistled, “I see you’ve been doing leg day without me.”

“What are you talking about…” Cole’s voice trailed off when he caught sight of his warped reflection in one of the many mirrors aligning the walls of the gym. His upper body was its usual muscled self, but when he turned to the side, he noticed that his butt was a little larger than usual. It wasn’t anything drastic, but he could definitely tell that his cheeks shouldn’t have been as round as they were now. Even as a test, he lightly bounced, his stomach dropping at how much jiggle there was to his rear.

Jason, oblivious to his friend’s inner turmoil, positioned himself back under the bar. “Dude, I need a spotter,” he said. “Can you come over here and stop checking out your ass?”

Cole gasped in horror as he watched his big butt shudder and literally round out the smallest bit, pushing even further outwards from his lower back. The seams of his spandex shorts groaned as they tried to contain the growing globes of his.

He made a mad dash for the locker room, desperate to find out what was happening to him. As he ran, Cole winced as he felt his larger cheeks bouncing and jiggling a lot more than they should have. Given his tight spandex shorts, they were on full display for the whole gym to see, and he definitely garnered a few lustful stares from people admiring his glutes. When he made it to the locker room, he paused in front of the mirror and with a shaky hand gave the alien mass behind him a few pokes, his heart sinking when he realized that it was all real: His butt was growing somehow.

“Wh-what the fuck is happening to me?” he panicked to no one, running a frantic hand through his hair. He paused for a second when he remembered what had happened every time he’d felt that throbbing sensation.

All that was consistent was that he’d heard the word ‘Ass’.

Swallowing down the nervous lump in his thick throat, the pale stud parted his lips. “Ass,” he whispered.

On cue, his own ass shuddered and inflated some more, looking all the more rounder.

Cole nearly collapsed, unable to believe what was happening despite seeing it for himself. It was impossible— there was no way one simple word could trigger his butt to just grow like this. Yet, there he was: in the locker room gawking at the huge cheeks that were attached to him, trembling as he noticed the extra bounce that they had. They were nearly too big for his shorts, so there was absolutely no way he could squeeze them into any of his regular clothes.

“What’s up?” Jason asked as he stormed into the locker room. “Why’d you ditch me like that? You…”

Cole’s stomach dropped and he knew what was coming. “N-no!” he tried to get out.

“…ass.”

RIIIPPP!!!

The spandex shorts burst to shreds as Cole’s massive ass swelled even more, inflating to the size of watermelons. They jutted off his body at a ridiculous angle, looking like something that could only be achieved by a deranged plastic surgeon. Worse was that he couldn’t stop it from jiggling with every step he took, as if his new bubble butt demanded attention.

Jason’s jaw dropped in shock this time. “Dude! What the fuck is wrong with your ass?” he cried.

Cole gritted his teeth as his bubblebutt inflated even more, starting to throw off his balance. He had to lean up against the lockers to avoid from toppling over, his chest pressed against the cool metal while his giant cheeks swayed in the air behind him.

“You gotta stop saying that word!” he pleaded, nearly wailing when he straightened himself and looked at his front reflection in the mirror. His butt had inflated so much that he could even see the sides of the rotund cheeks from the front, looking like he was towing something behind him. There was no way he could hide this and he didn’t even know how he’d stay on the football team with a butt this big— there’d be no way he could run with it bouncing behind him all the time. And shit, how would he even find a uniform, or pants in general, that would fit it?

A devious look crossed over Jason’s face and his smirk made a cold sweat break out on the bottom heavy jock.

“W-wait!” Cole stuttered. “Please don’t!”

“Ass,” Jason laughed. “Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass…”

The more he chanted, the stronger the throb in Cole’s bubblebutt felt. His rear inflated so much that he fell back onto the still expanding cheeks, horrified that his lower back was unable to touch the ground. His bubblebutt kept swelling, growing larger and rounder, and much heavier. Cole was trapped to it, pleading with his friend to stop, all the while feeling that ever-present throb in his growing ass.

– – – –

This was a request. If you have a picture of a stud you’d like me to TF, then message me or send me an Ask!

Pop!

“Damn it!” Mark hissed as the top few buttons of his shirt popped off. He sighed as he saw his pumped up pecs already shoving their way through the opening of his ruined shirt, and he shook his head in resignation.

“What is it?” his workout buddy, Jorge, asked, eying his top-heavy friend up and down.

Mark gestured down at his exposed, meaty pecs. “That’s the third shirt this week,” he huffed.

Jorge cocked his eyebrow at the other man. “Well, I mean, you have been doing nothing but Chest Day for the past few weeks,” he countered, thinking back to the last couple of times the two of them had ventured to the gym together. No matter what muscle group they were supposed to work on, Mark had always made his way to the chest-focused machines, working on growing his larger chest. It was odd since Mark had always focused on staying proportional and building his muscles in perfect sync. However, ever since that one day when some random nerdy-looking guy who wouldn’t stop checking out Mark had commented something about how Mark should do more Chest Days, it seemed as if chest was all Mark was able to do.

And Jorge would never tell his straight friend that he thought he looked so fucking hot with his large, meaty pecs completely warping his previously in-sync musculature. Mark’s muscled arms and legs still bulged the same, but they were nothing in comparison to the massive pillows that his pecs had become. What had used to be modest and chiseled pectorals had become huge, pumped mounds of muscle that jutted off the stud’s chest to form a shelf. The crevice between them had deepened significantly, and his nipples were forced to the point of sticking straight downward.

Jorge had to force himself to look away from his friend, getting hard at the sight of Mark struggling to squeeze his large pecs into his tank top.

Mark frowned again at his reflection, blushing at the way his cumbersome pectorals forced their way over the swoop of his tank top. They were in full view, making the shirt something more of a formality since it left nothing at all to the imagination, especially with his hard nipples poking around the small straps.

“Yeah…” the stud mumbled as he scratched his head, “I think I should focus on a different group today. These are getting too big for my taste. I’m already growing out of the new shirts I bought the other day.”

The two men were finished changing into their workout clothes and they headed out of the locker room, Mark having to walk with his back slightly arched to compensate for his heavy pecs, inadvertently shoving them out into the air as if to show them off. There was a slight bounce to them with every step the muscleman took, the humongous pecs demanding the attention of every other bodybuilder in the gym, making the stud’s face grow bright red with embarrassment.

Trying to distract his friend, Jorge piped up. “So, what do you wanna do today?” he asked. “How about Leg Day?”

Over near the treadmills, he could see that familiar nerdy guy looking over at them, his eyes honing in on the top-heavy Mark before grinning.

Mark pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, I was thinkin’ about doing chest,” he said before wincing and clearing his throat. “I mean, I think we should do Chest Day… er, I mean, I wanna work on growing my pecs.” Mark’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched as his body went rigid before walking over to the pec fly machine.

“Chest?” Jorge asked in disbelief. “Again?”

Regardless of how absurd doing chest for the thousandth time that month sounded, Mark still couldn’t stop his feet from walking towards the pec fly machine. His following friend was blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil the now top-heavy hunk was having. It was if his body was moving all on its own, without any control from Mark. Even when he’d said that he’d wanted to do Chest Day (again), he’d been horrified at how he’d been physically incapable of saying “Leg Day”. No matter how hard he’d tried to suggest a different muscle group, his tongue had seemed to have a life of its own, forcing the stud to say that he wanted to grow his already obscenely large pecs some more.

As the muscled hunk sat down on the bench and leaned back, he reached up and grabbed the handles of the machine, starting to perform heavy reps that made his massive pecs burn with power. 

Poor Mark was helpless as he did yet another Chest Day. He tried to call out to Jorge, who had simply shrugged and went to do legs, but his mouth refused to cooperate. The hunk gritted his teeth as he fought with all of his strength to stop working on his chest, but his body stayed put on the machine that was right in front of the mirror, showing the man how ridiculous he looked as he performed rep after rep. With each movement, his massive, inflated pecs spilled out of his tank top even more and bulged with power, completely engulfing his thick neck and making it look like the stud’s head rested directly atop the muscled mounds.

His heart raced in his bulging chest as his panicked eyes locked with the mischievous ones of the nerdy guy. Deep down he knew that it was impossible, but a voice in the back of his frenzied mind told him that the guy was somehow responsible. Mark thought back on the past few weeks of Chest Day, which had began ever since their chance encounter. He paled at the future image of himself going to the gym day after day, helpless to do anything but Chest Day— all the while his pecs would continue to grow larger and larger, looking ridiculous as they ballooned off his previously proportional body.

Eventually, Mark finished his workout, his pecs burning from the incredible pump they’d received.

“So,” Jorge began as he met back up with his friend in the locker room, drying himself off after his shower, “how was Chest Day?”

Mark kept his lips pursed in a thin line for a moment before sighing. “It was fine,” he relented, feeling defeated as he grabbed his t-shirt out of his locker. He struggled to slide the fabric over his huge chest, and when he had it on, he tried not to look at his reflection. Despite the t-shirt being two sizes larger than his usual size, his inflated pecs strained the thin fabric to bursting and his hard nipples poked noticeably against it. The collar had ripped slightly, showcasing the deep crevice of his chest. Due to the massive shelf his pecs had become, the bottom of the shirt was lifted above his belly button, looking more like a crop top.

“Well, maybe tomorrow we can do arms?” Jorge suggested, clapping the hunk on the shoulder.

“Sure…” Mark mumbled, wanting nothing more than to have his body be back in sync, but he knew deep down that tomorrow he’d be forced to do chest again, and his pecs would continue to pack on even more meat.

The top-heavy stud waddled out of the locker room and headed towards the exit, trying to ignore the looks his bouncing muscletits garnered. He passed by the nerd who smirked as he passed.

“Lookin’ good, Mark,” he smiled. “I told you that Chest Day would be a great focus for you. You have the biggest pecs of anyone in the gym!”

“Someone’s been working out their pecs a bit too much”

Find morphed pictures like these only for $1 and more on my Patreon.

Thank you all to have followed and liked my content! I’m to see that other people out there also enjoy TF stories! And I’ve grown addicted to these Voting stories because they’re fun and sometimes I’m not 100% sure what to do to some of these studs, haha!

This is Cooper, a 20 year old college wrestler who’s doing a favor for his roommate by filling in for a model at a magazine shoot. What’s the title of the article?

A). Flamboyant Twinks with Insatiable, Hungry Holes 

B). Hairy Bears who Love to Get Topped by Skinny Guys

C). Muscleboys Addicted to Synthol and Implants

Please cast your vote and I will try to have this story up by Friday or Saturday!

Thank you!

I can’t find any of the other posts from this short collection :(

00 │ 01 

The Cursed Gym 2

Collin had joined the gym in order to get his Summer bod.

The jock took his body and fitness extremely seriously, which was why he watched his diet like a hawk and made sure to up his cardio once the weather started to get warmer.

Things took a turn when the stud was at his gym, going hard on the treadmill in preparation for a beach trip where there would be ample time for him to show off his hard-earned muscles for all the girls there to gawk at.

Collin watched the TV as he ran, finally realizing that something was up by the odd churning he felt in his stomach. At first he thought that it was just from him ignoring running for too long, but the churning worsened and morphed into a sensation that was even worse: jiggling.

The jock immediately looked at himself, almost fainting as he saw his flat washboard stomach steadily pushing outwards.

“What the fuck?!” Collin panicked as he lifted up his shirt, only to find that his abs were completely gone and the beginnings of an impressive roidgut were coming into view. 

The stud hopped off the treadmill, his shirt springing up over his growing gut which ballooned out in front of him and obscured his view of his lower half. In his panic, Collin clutched at the inflating mass in front of himself, paling when he felt the squishy layer of fat that covered his muscle, solidifying that he’d somehow grown a massive roidgut out of nowhere.

Collin blushed and futilely tried to stretch his shirt back down over his new gut, but it kept bouncing upwards and bunching up atop his belly that jiggled as the now ex-jock left the gym in a panic.

I wish my best friend could stop being bullied for being a little runt. Would also be great to have a big sexy boyfriend out of him too

You whispered your wish under your breath when you and your best friend, Ethan, went to the beach. You felt a little bad for him when you saw that he refused to remove his t-shirt despite how hot it was.

“You gonna leave your shirt on?” you asked him, giving him the up-down.

He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Yeah,” he shyly admitted, taking a hesitant glance around the beach at the other guys who were there. They were all muscled up, looking like models straight out of a porno. then he held his slender arms up as if to illustrate his point.

Ethan had always been skinny, something that he was irritated with the older he got. He’d tried to bulk up and put on some muscle, but it never seemed to work. You’d taken him to the gym plenty of times too since you had a lot of muscle on your body, so you knew the exact workout plans and diets to follow; but no matter what the two of you did, Ethan remained skinny.

You moved to reassuringly pat your friend on the shoulder, however, the moment the two of you made contact, there was a little shock that you felt. You instinctively moved to recoil, but found you couldn’t. It was as if your hand was superglued to him.

You gritted your teeth as you tried with all of your might to pull away, but it was futile.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Ethan panicked.

Then the two of you noticed something else happening.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Ethan’s body rapidly inflating. It was as if someone had attached an air hose to him, and started to pump him up with muscle. His traps inflated and started to slowly engulf his widening neck to the point where it looked like he lacked a neck at all. The growth traveled down to his arms which packed on meat and bulged like crazy, making his biceps look like the size of melons. His pecs ballooned out in front of him, completely obscuring his view of the lower part of his body.

“Holy shit!” Ethan gasped in shock.

“I know! You’re getting huge!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off him.

“No,” Ethan shook his head as best as he could with his lack of a neck. “You’re getting smaller.”

“What?” you wondered, looking down at yourself before screaming. 

All of the hard-earned muscles in your body were deflating, becoming flat. Your biceps grew smaller and smaller until your arms were stick-thin and shapeless. Your pecs flattened against your chest and left your torso entirely undefined and slender. 

You fought hard to remove your hand from Ethan’s broadening frame when you realized that your friend wasn’t so much as growing, but he was stealing all of your muscles.

Ethan’s shirt exploded off his growing frame, exposing his thick roid gut and mountainous pecs that should’ve been yours. Your bathing suit fell to the ground the more muscle you lost, your thin legs looking tiny and unimpressive. With your free hand, you struggled to hold them up.

When you finally managed to pull your hand free, Ethan was left as a large over-muscled bodybuilder and you were a skinny twink.

“What the fuck happened?!” you panicked, looking down at your slender frame, figuring that you had to have lost at least sixty pounds, leaving you small and boyish. You were so busy freaking out that you barely noticed it when Ethan waddled over towards you.

“I dunno,” he said, staring down at you hungrily. “But I have to admit that you look really cute like that.” He wrapped his barely-flexible arms around you and shoved you into his massive muscletits that should have been on your body, not his.

Despite how freaked out you were, you couldn’t help but melt into the new muscle man’s bulky body. Your horniness clouded over your fear and you ran your slender fingers over Ethan’s massive pecs, enjoying how his bulky muscles twitched with want as you did so.

“So what now?” you asked him.

He smirked down at you. “Let’s go to my place and you can worship these big muscles of mine,” he laughed, literally throwing you over his broadened shoulder and carrying you to the parking lot.

For @writer-ofstuff! It was really fun writing this one! And I’ve been really enjoying writing stories surrounding Derek and Stiles!

– – –

“This is stupid,” Derek grunted as he and Stiles took their seats in the front row, right in front of the wrestling ring. “Everyone knows these things are staged. If you really want to see a good match, then I should take you to a werewolf wrestling match.”

Stiles perked up, clutching his popcorn close to his chest in shock. “They have those?” he gasped, his mouth full of kernels.

Derek just scowled down at the human, his attempt at joking failing. “No,” he muttered, sitting down with his angry expression still all over his face.

“Dude,” Stiles elbowed him in the ribs, “you agreed that I could pick the location for Date Night every Fifth Friday of the month. It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention to the calendar.”

Derek growled something under his breath, but still put his arm around his boyfriend’s slender shoulders, both to comfort him and also because one of the wrestlers was making his way towards the ring, staring at them. He was clad in a black speedo that had blue designs over it.

Derek scowled back and tightened his grip on his blissfully unaware boyfriend, even baring his teeth at the staring wrestler.

The muscled man just smirked and… blew a kiss at Derek?

The alpha werewolf cocked his eyebrow and broke eye contact.

The announcer stepped into the middle of the ring and began his spiel, his deep voice echoing out over the crowd of spectators who cheered wildly. Stiles got caught up in the excitement and leapt to his feet to cheer at the top of his lungs.

“We begin our night with the Tag Team Match!” the announcer roared out, followed by an eruption from the crowd.

Stiles leaned in closer to Derek so that he could explain what was happening to his boyfriend, hoping that he’d enjoy the night too. “So Tag Team is when there’s two versus two… like a team,” he laughed, looking over at his boyfriend to see if he was paying attention.

Derek stood beside him, crossing his arms over his white t-shirt that stretched over his muscular chest.

Stiles looked at him in confusion. “Hey Der, what happened to your leather jacket?” he asked, wondering why the werewolf was wearing only his t-shirt which looked like it was painted on. He even glanced at the seat, seeing no sign of his boyfriend’s jacket in sight.

Derek looked down at his torso and shrugged. “I… I’m not sure,” he muttered, his thick eyebrows knitting together.

The announcer continued. “Introducing our first team! On my right,” he roared out, “we have…”

“I’ve seen this guy before at a match I went to with my dad,” Stiles told Derek. “It was a few years ago and— Um, Derek? D-did you dye your hair?”

Sure enough, Derek’s usual black hair was taking on a light hue, looking like could’ve been dirty blond. There were a ton of laser lights in the building, so Stiles told himself he was seeing things.

The announcer carried on, the first member of one of the tag teams storming into the ring and raising his muscled arms above his head, earning a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Derek straighten up, looking like he was actually starting to get into the show. He smiled to himself, happy to be spending such quality time with his boyfriend. Beacon Hills seemed to be an epicenter for all things supernatural, so on the rare occasions he and Derek got to be a normal couple, he wanted to take full advantage.

He leaned into Derek affectionately. “Thanks for taking me here,” Stiles mused, basking in the warmth he felt when Derek wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The heat from Derek’s bare, smooth skin warmed him up and made him feel at home—

Stiles jerked back and stared at the shirtless and definitely blond Derek in shock and awe.

“Dude!’ Stiles cried, almost dropping his popcorn to the ground, but managing to save it. “Your shirt! And your hair!”

Derek looked down at him, confusion written all over his face. “What about them?” he asked the shocked human, his voice sounding a bit deeper and slower. “You feelin’ okay, Bruh? You look a little pale.”

Stiles knew something was happening, he was certain of it. He scanned the crowd for something or someone who looked out of place. However, it was so dark out in the stands that he couldn’t discern separate faces well, and the announcer was loud as the second member of the first tag team entered the ring.

He clutched Derek’s hand tightly, refusing to let it go. “We gotta get you out of here,” he hissed to the werewolf.

Derek jerked back in shock. “Huh?” he asked. “But why, Babe? We just made it, don’cha wanna see the match?”

“Nevermind that! And why are you talking like that?” Stiles cried out, throwing his free hand up in the air frantically. He then paused when he took in the new change. “And why are you wearing those?”

Derek looked down at the black and pink pair of speedos that he wore. They were so small that they forced his bulge out in front of him and cupped his bubblebutt perfectly, even lifting it to accentuate its fullness. Derek grinned as he looked down at it, smiling at his boyfriend. “Looks hot, right?” he smirked.

The announcer continued to bring out the wrestlers. “And, introducing the second team!” he announced. “The first member, with four wins and zero losses: The Trickster!”

The crowd roared with excitement as a muscled man in black and blue speedos ran up and entered the ring, flexing a large bicep for all to see.

Stiles’s eyes widened as he finally witnessed firsthand Derek’s mysterious transformation. The werewolf tensed up and his muscles inflated. His pecs pushed out further in front of him, his nipples even perking up. His shoulders broadened while his back widened, making Derek so wide that he’d have to turn sideways to walk through any standard-sized door from now on. His butt packed on more meat, his thighs following suit to support the weight of the massive pillows, pushing his large bulge further out in front of himself. Lastly, Derek’s already large biceps ballooned in size, resembling bowling balls. By the end of his musclegrowth, Derek resembled a blond wrestler, his pale skin looking slick as it was somehow getting covered in posing oil, making his abs and every contour of his musculature pop.

“And the last member of the second team,” the announcer roared out, “he’s a newbie! Weighing in at an impressive 248: The Wolf!”

The newly transfigured Derek threw his head back and let out a loud howl, making the crowd erupt in cheers. He yanked Stiles into his oily, muscled body, giving the stunned human a hot, possessive kiss. Despite how deep in shock he was over watching his boyfriend somehow turn into a muscled up wrestler in tight speedos, Stiles couldn’t help but feel so turned on by the feeling of Derek’s rock hard muscles.

He let go and waddled up to the ring, his massive muscled thighs rolling over each other and his broad back swaying back and forth with power. His arms were so thick with muscle that they hung akimbo at his sides. Even though he’d been transformed, the new Derek still had his trademark scowl as he entered the ring and stared down the opposing team intimidatingly before flexing his massive chest muscles, oozing masculine power.

Stiles’s heart picked up speed as he watched his altered boyfriend kick ass in the wrestling ring, noting the look of utter jubilation on the werewolf’s face as he fought. He really looked like he was enjoying their Date Night, although it really wasn’t the way Stiles had intended.

The new wrestler Derek looked over at Stiles, giving him a wink and making one of his inflated pecs bounce.

“Oh hot damn,” Stiles gasped. Yeah, he could live with this.