Peter! There You Are! Weve Been Looking All Over For You! Stiles Exclaimed As He Stomped Into The Gym,

“Peter! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Stiles exclaimed as he stomped into the gym, heading over towards the weight pile where the shirtless werewolf was working out. He was ready to chew him out for being M.I.A. for several days, but froze in his spot when he looked over the older former alpha.

Instead of his usual dapper self, Peter was a hulking beast. The shirtless stud sat on the bench and lifted dumbbells, his inflated biceps bulging to the size of bowling balls and without a doubt being no longer able to fit in his tailor-fitted shirts. Speaking of which, his cumbersome pecs were enormous, ballooning out from his chest to the point where they obscured part of his neck and to where his erect nipples were pointing straight downwards. Even his abs were pronounced and his waist seemed pinched inwards before meeting a pair of raggedy cargo shorts that he would normally never be seen dead in. This over-muscled Peter was nothing like the arrogant werewolf Stiles was used to, making his jaw drop in wonder and confusion.

Peter looked over at the surprised Stiles and flashed him a smile, yet his eyebrows were worriedly knitted together. “Yeah Bruh,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual, “all you had to do was check the gym. Ya know I’d here workin’ on my pump!”

He set one of the dumbbells down and flexed a giant bicep in front of Stiles’s wide eyes.

“Feel it,” he teased, leaning closer towards the small human. The cocky smirk that the werewolf wore did not at all match the panicked look in his eyes, which seemed to be silently pleading with Stiles.

“Um, maybe later,” Stiles mumbled, cocking his eyebrow at the muscle man. “Anyways, Peter, why have you been here? I’ve never known you to ever go to the gym once. In fact, I seem to recall you calling guys who go, and I quote, ‘Stupid Muscleheads’.”

“Peter wouldn’t say that,” an unknown voice said.

Stiles looked over to see another muscled up stud sauntering over to the weight pile, clad in nothing but spandex shorts and a yellow tank top that had the sides cut in a way that allowed his hairy, beefy chest to be prominent displayed. The unknown bodybuilder stopped right by Peter and patted his broadened shoulder.

“Peter here lives for working out,” the man laughed. “All this guy’s good for is buildin’ muscle and fuckin’. Right, Peter?”

Peter looked straight into Stiles’s eyes, and the pleading look that they conveyed made the human’s stomach churn slightly. However, the buffed up werewolf bellowed out, “Hell yeah! I love to build up this mass!” To punctuate his point, he made his inflated pecs bounce, the massive mounds leaping up and slamming back down with power, sending a ripple throughout his huge muscles.

Stiles immediately knew that this bodybuilder was behind Peter’s new body and attitude. However, he kept his lips sealed when the man looked over at him, smirking.

“You know what?” he said. “I think Peter’s done for the day. You can take him home.” He turned down to the new muscled up werewolf. “See you tomorrow for your workout.”

“Wait— what?” Stiles called out as the unknown man walked away, leaving him all alone with the bodybuilder Peter.

The newly transfigured Peter stood up, looking about twice as wide as he was before. His large arms rested on his flaring lats, being stuck at an odd angle. His thighs were so large that they rolled around each other with every step, turning his walk into a waddle. He must’ve put on at least one-hundred pounds of solid muscle, completely warping his formerly lean body into a body that oozed muscle and roids.

“Um, should you go get dressed first?” Stiles asked, figuring that he should at least take Peter to Derek or Deaton to try to see what was wrong and how they could help him.

Although the embarrassed look in Peter’s eyes looked like he wanted nothing more than to cover up his new bulk, he shook his head. “No way, Babe,” he chuckled in his deep, slow voice. “I gotta show off these gains wherever I go!”

When the two of them exited the gym doors and were out on the public street, Peter’s face turned bright red with blush as the citizens of Beacon Hills turned to look at his massive, inflated form. He was normally used to people looking at him in admiration due to his designer clothing and charming demeanor, however, now they were marveling at his massive size— some of them drooling with lust while others looking in disgust.

Peter, much to his horror, felt himself throw both of his massive arms up above his head, forming a double biceps pose for all to see. His mouth stretched out into that cocky grin he was forced to wear, and despite himself, he hated that he was getting so incredibly turned on by showing off his vast form to the onlookers… but that paled in comparison to how rock hard he got at the thought of smothering tiny Stiles with his giant pecs, his heart racing at the thought.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Stiles said as he grabbed a hold of the werewolf’s beefy hand to lead him to his Jeep, “we’ll figure out how to change you back.”

He helped Peter into the passenger seat, trying to hold back a smile when the seatbelt completely disappeared into the cleavage of his giant pecs. When Stiles got into the driver’s seat, he stifled a laugh when he had to lean to the side a little bit due to the hyperbolic broadness of Peter’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just a little too buff for your ride, Little Man,” Peter boasted, and Stiles knew that was his way of apologizing for the inconvenience his size created.

“It’s cool,” Stiles reassured him, patting him on the hand. As he did so, he felt Peter grab a tight hold of it.

Instead of his eyes looking panicked, Peter’s eyes actually looked pleased as he stared down at the little human by his side. “Ya know,” he playfully growled, “I can show ya another muscle of mine.” He winked and gestured down at his shorts.

Stiles’s eyes nearly exploded as he saw the giant arm Peter’s cock had become. It snaked down his leg, looking about as thick as Stiles’s forearm.

Peter flirtatiously bounced his pecs, looking at Stiles expectantly.

“Well,” Stiles hummed, flooring the Jeep in the direction of his apartment, “I guess we can fix this a little later.”

-- -- --

[Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/doryfan1/art/Muscle-Morph-Ian-Bohen-1-544217699]

Request: Could you beef this man up into a total muscle daddy?

Caleb couldn’t help but scrunch up his face in disgust when he overheard the gay couple cooing sugary things to one another. The football-playing stud didn’t have a problem with gay guys whatsoever, but he found it disgusting when the thinner one referred to the other as “Daddy”.

“Disgusting,” he muttered under his breath as he walked into the bathroom, unaware of the mischievous glares from the gay couple.

Caleb sauntered into the bathroom and did his business. As he was washing his hands, he looked up into the mirror and couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride that blossomed in his chest at the serious gains he’d made. He straightened up and snapped a picture to post onto his Instagram, making sure to flex a large bicep.

He posted the picture and before he knew what he was doing, tagged it with #Daddy.

“What the hell?” he grunted as he posted the picture, unsure why he’d just done that. He deleted the picture and snapped another one, this one with him making sure to puff out his chest a little bit to show off his chiseled pecs.

When he posted it, this time as if his thumbs were possessed, he tagged it with #MuscleDaddy and #DaddyAF.

“What the fuck is going on?” Caleb roared as he tried to edit the tags, but his thumbs would not cooperate. In a frustrated huff, he tossed his phone down onto the counter of the bathroom sink and splashed some water on his face. However, his stomach dropped when he felt something completely wrong.

In a flash, Caleb rubbed the water away from his eyes and stared into the mirror, his jaw dropping as he watched dark stubble grow at a rapid rate along his previously smooth jaw. He was in shock and awe as he watched the dark hair take over, but his focus soon shifted when his chest started to itch. He absentmindedly scratched at it, wincing when he saw tuffs of chest hair starting to sprout and curl over the collar of his shirt.

“Holy shit!” he boomed in a deeper sounding voice when he witnessed his muscles starting to inflate. His biceps bulged even further underneath a dense forest of hair and the seams on his jeans struggled to contain his widening thighs and ass that bubbled out even more. The front of his jeans bulged outwards as he felt his cock lengthen and start to plump up. In his panicked state of mind, Caleb struggled to unzip the tightening pants, unleashing the now ten inch cock that was almost as thick as a beer can.

He was speechless as his body continued to change, but the worst had yet to come.

“No!” Caleb cried when he saw his gut starting to push outwards. The stud had prided himself on his chiseled abs which he’d always shown off online. However, his gut continued to inflate and round out in front of him. His tight t-shirt sprung upwards and rested on top of the protruding hairy tummy, unable to shield it from view. Caleb poked at it, a little relieved that it seemed to be solid, more akin to a roidgut than just fat. Even his pecs puffed out and inflated so much that they rested on his new gut, his nipples enlarging to poke conspicuously against the straining fabric of his shirt.

RIIPPPP!

Caleb’s broadening, hairy back tore the t-shirt to shreds, and the shocked inflated stud was forced to stare at his beefy new body. His hairy gut protruded out in front of him and his pecs and nipples were so large that no shirt would ever be able to conceal them.

He whimpered when he saw crow’s feet starting to form near his eyes, and a few of the hairs on his new beard turned gray, illustrating the many years that the stud had just had sucked away.

“Wh-what the fuck happened to me?” Caleb bellowed in his deeper voice as he examined his beefy, older body. Unwanted, hairy bulk kept rubbing up against itself as he moved, and the hunk couldn’t see anything but inflated pecs and his large musclegut whenever he glanced downwards. His large thighs rolled around each other as he tried to walk, his gait resembling something like a waddle.

The bathroom door opened up and the thin gay guy from earlier walked in, running his eyes up and down Caleb’s inflated form.

“Well hey there, Daddy,” he teased, giving Caleb a knowing wink.

At the name, Caleb’s giant cock twitched to life, and the new bear blushed as his ten inches stood out in front of him. He was only able to know this by looking in the mirror since his gut blocked its view from above. “Wh-what did you call me?” Caleb stuttered, his heart racing in his inflated chest as his eyes ran up and down the younger man’s form.

The guy giggled and walked up to the beefy muscle daddy, running an admiring hand up and down the protruding gut that was evidently sensitive too. “I called you, ‘Daddy’,” he whispered.

Celeb shuddered as the smaller guy’s fingers ran through his thick chest hair, and his cock twitched with want as a small bead of precum started to leak out.

“Let’s head to my place and I’ll take care of that for you, Daddy.”

The other guy managed to tuck Caleb’s monster cock back into his pants and zipped up the front. Caleb looked back at his reflection and winced as it looked as if he were smuggling a cucumber in his pocket. He was too shocked to say anything and was so focused on the way his beefy chest fluttered when the guy took him by the hand and led him out of the bathroom.

When he finally snapped back to his senses, Caleb blushed furiously as he realized that he was walking (or waddling) hand-in-hand with a much younger looking and thinner guy. Worse was that his new inflated form was on full display to the other people who were walking around, all of them getting a full view of his musclegut and pillow-like pecs that were capped off with nubby nipples. He knew that something horrible had happened to him, that he was supposed to be the 21 year old straight jock who had a muscular and toned body. He wasn’t supposed to be some older musclebear who showed off his thick, hairy chest everywhere he went because no shirt could ever fit over it.

But he couldn’t deny how turned on he was by the immense weight of his gut and pecs pulling on his front, and by the way his bulky arms rested on his flaring lats. And even the wind blowing across his dense chest hair sent a shock of pleasure through him, making his thick cock throb and a large wet mark appear on the front of his jeans.

“Doing okay, Daddy?” his younger companion asked, patting his musclegut reassuringly.

Caleb shuddered again and wrapped a large arm around the other man’s thin shoulders, feeling a protective contentment as the man’s smaller body was pressed against his hairy bulk.

“Daddy’s doin’ just fine, Baby,” Caleb playfully growled.

Happy Birthday Tyler Hoechlin!

September 11th— Actor Tyler Hoechlin’s birthday!

The hunky actor sauntered about his house, dressed up in his new suit so that he could go attend a birthday function that his management was making him go to. Tyler huffed a little bit as he adjusted his tie, gazing at the form-fitting suit that made him look akin to 007, oozing masculine sex appeal. He’d even let his stubble grow out to complete his manly look which would be sure to get him tons of attention and interviews where he’d have the opportunity to promote his projects.

Tyler yawned loudly, already tired at the night’s events. Of course he loved being a world famous actor with scores of adoring fans. However, he was sort of just wanting to relax at home for his birthday, lounging out on the couch to just watch some TV and play video games. Maybe he’d invite Dylan O’Brien over; his old costar from Teen Wolf was in the area, filming some new movie. The two of them had said that they’d connect sometime, but with their busy schedules, they haven’t had the chance to yet.

“Alright,” Tyler sighed as he checked the Rolex on his thick wrist, “time for a long night.” He sighed again, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the motion, making his tight suit which was designed to show off his impressive musculature, shift too. 

As he walked towards the front door, he paused when he saw a pastel pink box sitting on the counter.

The stud cocked a confused eyebrow and walked over to it, examining the unmarked box. He flipped open the lid and saw that it was a simple, chocolate frosted cake with pink writing that spelt out in curvy letters: Happy Birthday Tyler!

Tyler couldn’t help the smile that stretched out his handsome face, genuinely touched at the kind gesture. There wasn’t a card or note to let him know who had gifted him the birthday cake, but he guessed that it was probably his new assistant who was still really nice and hadn’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.

The mouthwatering aroma of cocoa reached the man’s nostrils, and Tyler’s stomach gurgled with want as he stared at the delectable dessert.

“Damn,” he muttered, desperately wanting to have a quick slice, but with the party/advertisement in a few minutes, he couldn’t afford to eat any carbs that would disrupt his chiseled physique in his custom tailored suit.

Still, a little frosting wouldn’t hurt.

Tyler swiped up some chocolate frosting on his finger, popping it into his mouth with a deep moan.

“Mmmm!” Tyler moaned at the sweet, sugary taste of the frosting as he eagerly sucked his finger clean, leaving no trace behind. His tastebuds were alight with craving want, and his stomach growled loudly, demanding another taste.

Before manifesting the thought, Tyler felt his hand move down to the cake again, swiping up a much larger dollop of frosting this time, and greedily shoving it into his mouth. The sugary taste of the frosting was so delicious and all-consuming that it was all Tyler could do to remove his expensive suit jacket before slamming himself against the counter.

With both hands, and without a moment’s hesitation, Tyler Hoechlin grabbed handfuls of the chocolate cake, shoveling it into his mouth. The cake itself was just as sweet as the frosting, eliciting the same desperation and intense cravings.

Tyler’s moans filled out his house as he ate the entire pastry, unable to stop himself. The realization over this fact made his eyes widen as he tried to stop his large hands from scooping the cake into his mouth. He strained his muscles as hard as he could, but was powerless under whatever cryptic control the dessert had over him. He was aware of how wrong it was for him to be devouring an entire cake by himself, hunched over it like a pig, but he couldn’t stop.

“What’s happening to me?!” Tyler panicked between mouthfuls of food, his heart starting to race as he was about halfway finished with the cake, his clothes suddenly feeling tighter.

The legs of his slim-fit pants felt snugger by the second, especially on his thighs. The seat of them were growing tighter and tighter, so much that Tyler’s fear was commingled with an odd sense of relief when there was a loud rip followed by a release of pressure. The frazzled actor couldn’t even stop his body from gobbling up the cake long enough to look over a broad shoulder to assess the damage to his pants.

However, Tyler’s fear spiked when there was a pop, followed by the  light clattering of his shirt buttons falling onto the floor. It was then that he registered the extreme tightness of his shirt and the odd way he felt his stomach pressing against the counter in a way it never had before.

The actor gasped as best as he could with a mouth full of cake when he looked down and saw a large gut protruding from his opened shirt in place of where a set of cut abs should have been. No matter how panicked the stud was over his growing mass, he still couldn’t prevent himself from finishing off the rest of the chocolate cake, his stomach continuing to growl as he chewed the last bits.

“What… the… fuck?!” Tyler gasped as soon as he was finished with the dessert, the lingering taste of chocolate still consuming his mouth, making his sense of hunger swell and become almost unbearable.

Tyler shoved himself away from the counter, wincing when he felt his new gut jiggle with the movement. The actor rushed to the bathroom, his large gut dropping the second he looked in the mirror.

His handsome face looked almost the same, only it wasn’t as thin and his cheeks looked fuller. His shoulders appeared to be slightly broader, but it was just due to the thick layer of fat that now covered his muscular form. With a shaky hand, Tyler reached up with a heavy arm and poked at his shoulder, his heart racing when he felt a soft and squishy body as opposed to hard. His hairy pecs were still big, but they lost some of their definition, rounding out a bit as they drooped downward slightly. They weren’t full on moobs, but they were not the toned pectorals that he was used to, and there was no way he could fit the mounds that were capped with enlarged, nubby nipples into his Superman costume. Even his arms had packed on size, his new fat shrouding his muscular definition— the same happened with his widened thighs which now pressed together, causing his saunter to look more like a waddle. His pants had completely torn to shreds during his transformation, leaving the shocked actor in his red underwear which were strained to bursting over the large, meaty globes that had replaced his pert bubble butt. 

But worse of all for Tyler was the large, jiggling gut that jutted away from his torso at a severe angle and blocked his view of his lower half. The hairy mass was so large that Tyler had no idea how long he’d have to work out and diet in order to get his old physique back, annoyed that his stomach was still growling hungrily.

“H-how is this possible?” he mumbled in shock as he gave the fuzzy mass a tentative poke, immediately regretting it as that simple touch sent darts start to his cock. Tyler paled as he was rock hard from touching his large gut, his cock springing out of his underwear and bobbing in the air. However, the actor was irritated when he looked downward, his eight inch cock completely hidden underneath his massive gut.

Tyler Hoechlin had no idea what he was going to do with a massive bear-like body, looking like he had a dad bod except with a significantly larger belly. He knew that he couldn’t fit in his Superman costume at all, and his reprisal of Derek Hale in the Teen Wolf Movie was going to be difficult since this character didn’t have a large hairy, sensitive gut!

In a huff, Tyler waddled over to the scale and stepped on it, having to bend over in order to see the bright red letters: 342 lbs.

Tyler stumbled a little in shock, his gut bouncing wildly with his jerking motions. He grabbed onto the bathroom counter to steady himself, shocked that he’d magically gained 170 pounds just from eating a mysterious cake, nearly doubling his bodyweight… most of it apparently centered on his massive gut.

“What the fuck am I going to do with this thing— uh!” Tyler moaned as he grabbed at his gut in frustration, his cock throbbing at the touch, making him roll his head back. His hunger grew even more and his stomach growled louder.

Ding Dong! the doorbell sounded out.

Tyler was jostled out of his shock from his inflation, his heart racing in his larger chest. Given the small size of his house, he was able to lean out of the bathroom doorway and shout out.

“Wh-who is it?” he yelled, his voice cracking with nerves.

“It’s Dylan!” Dylan O’Brien called out from the other side of the front door. 

Tyler paled at the thought of someone seeing him in his inflated, bulky form. However, a growing part of him was getting a little excited over his past costar visiting him, his cock throbbing with desire at the thought.

“Your assistant told me come over for your birthday!” Dylan called out when Tyler didn’t answer. “I brought cake!”

At the same exact second, Tyler’s stomach growled and his cock leaked precum. He hurriedly rushed towards his room, ignoring his new bulk bouncing as he ran and the loud thuds his feet made. “Come in!” he called over his broadened shoulder. “I have to throw something on!”

Tyler rushed into his bedroom, frantically tearing through his closet as he tried to find some loose clothes that he could fit in. He found some basketball shorts that looked more like spandex as it stretched around his big booty and widened thighs. His shirt, which was XL, was way too small, and the actor groaned as he struggled to fit it over his inflated pecs. Once he had the tight blue fabric on, his nubby nipples poked conspicuously against the cotton and the bottom kept bunching up over his hairy gut. No matter how many times Tyler tried to pull it down over his protruding stomach, the shirt kept popping back up, leaving his jiggling bear gut on perfect display.

After taking a deep breath, Tyler waddled out to the living room where Dylan waited, his face cherry red over how much his hairy gut bounced when he walked. Once he laid eyes on the much smaller actor, his cock throbbed painfully with want. And once he spotted the pink box Dylan held, his stomach growled loudly, sounding more like an animal.

Dylan looked over at the inflated Tyler, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he took in the sheer size of the man. “Whoa!” he gasped. “Tyler! Y-you, uh, you look good.”

Tyler blushed as he looked down at his inflated self, holding his heavy arms out in jest. “Yeah, I’ve been bulking up for a role,” he laughed. He gestured towards the couch. “Come sit down. Let’s eat some of that cake.”

Dylan shrugged and happily sat down on the tiny sofa.

Tyler sat down beside him, his new weight causing the furniture to groan loudly. He winced as he felt his new gut settle in his lap, and the large weight discrepancy between him and Dylan caused the couch cushion to dip wildly. The tilt caused Dylan to nearly tumble over, being pressed tightly against Tyler’s bulky body.

“Oh, sorry Man!” Dylan blushed as he tried to sit up off of the other man, placing a hand down on Tyler’s hairy gut to steady himself.

“Oohh!” Tyler moaned as soon as Dylan touched his sensitive gut, arching his back and shoving his inflated belly into the other man’s touch. Dylan’s slender fingers traveling through the fur that covered it was like an electric wire, sending shocks of electricity straight to his hard cock that was still hidden under his tummy.  Tyler curled his toes and rolled his head back.

Dylan paused for a second before smirking. “You like belly rubs?” he teased. He continued to caress Tyler’s new gut, running his hands underneath the hair that coated it, which acted like little sensors that only increased its hypersensitivity.

“Y-yeah!” Tyler stuttered, squirming helplessly underneath the smaller man’s touch. He knew that he should be panicking over his massive weight gain, and wondering why he was suddenly so attracted to another guy. But his mind was turned to mush as his cock throbbed with every touch that his new gut brought him. In his lust-fueled haze, Tyler reached up and tore his useless shirt away from his bulk, exposing his huge hairy pecs.

Dylan took the message and reached over with his other hand, squeezing his inflated chest. His hands brushed over Tyler’s nubby nipples, turning the inflated stud into a moaning mess.

“D-don’t stop!” Tyler begged, feeling like putty as he squirmed, his entire bulk incredibly sensitive. He pictured himself on the sets of his TV shows in his new form. He could easily play Superman, just looking extra thicc as a superhero with a rotund gut and nubby nipples that poke through the skintight costume. And his character Derek Hale would look insanely hot with his large gut protruding through the opening of his trademark leather jacket. And if he could convince Dylan to give him more belly rubs, Tyler wouldn’t really mind if he kept his new gut… or if it got bigger.

Tyler let out a low, bellowing moan as he came, his untouched cock shooting globs of cum in his underwear. The inflated man had never came so much in his life, leaving him panting as he struggled to catch his breath, his huge gut heaving up and down as he gasped.

“Holy shit,” Tyler panted. “That was hot.”

“Sure was,” Dylan agreed. “Now what do you say we make that belly of yours a little bigger?” He held up the pink box, his smile growing when Tyler’s stomach growled.

Tyler snatched the cake out of the box, going to town, shoveling it into his mouth with one hand while keeping his other tightly secured around the smaller guy, keeping him tightly against his squishy belly.

“Happy birthday, Tyler,” Dylan laughed, rubbing Tyler’s inflated gut lovingly, enjoying the resulting moan and noticing that it was steadily growing larger and larger… 

Another issue of men’s fatness, featuring Tyler Hoechlin

Stiles had a huge problem.

The slender human stood in the middle of Derek’s loft, eying both the sourwolf and his cocky uncle, both of the werewolves demanding that he finally choose one of them to be his mate.

Normally Stiles scoffed at the idea of love triangles, believing that they were just a horrible teen romance novel trope, yet there he was: stuck between deciding between Derek and Peter. And, unfortunately, it was not an easy choice to make.

Derek was closer to his age, and he was the classic brooding hunk who rarely smiled. His body was blessed with muscles and he had this smoldering look that melted Stiles’s heart. And, he’d even seen his cock once, and dare he say it, it was impressive. The two of them had been on the same side through multiple supernatural excursions. Although Derek was much more guarded, he’d eventually began to make it known that he wanted the human, starting out subtly by casually brushing up against him, to more brazenly by sneakily holding his hand while at pack meetings.

Then there was Peter, who was older and much more experienced. His lean muscle was extremely attractive, as was the slight grays that were starting to appear in his sideburns. Peter also had some chest hair and his worldly knowledge and the way he was completely domineering made him ooze “Daddy”. And Stiles was definitely into that as well. Plus Peter was much more direct in his want for the younger man. Whereas Derek preferred a subtle approach, the older werewolf preferred to be much more direct, such as surprising Stiles late at night by lying on his bed in nothing… absolutely nothing, allowing his hard cock to be presented. And that was impressive too.

Therefore, Stiles stood in the middle of the loft, looking between the expectant Peter and Derek as they both stared him down, waiting for his answer. Derek had his buff arms crossed in front of his large chest, his pecs stretching the fabric of his shirt to the limit. Then Peter eyed Stiles in a cocky manner that said, “I’m waiting”, and Stiles couldn’t help but drool over the wisps of manly chest hair that creeped out of his deep v-neck.

“Um,” Stiles stalled, still incredibly torn between the two men before him. He was sympathetic and understood their frustration, yet he was also deeply conflicted between them. He wanted Derek, and he wanted Peter. It was not as simple as pointing at one of them and writing off the other. “I’m sorry, guys. I know it’s annoying, but I really can’t choose between the two of you.”

Derek gave one of his characteristic sighs, even rolling his eyes. “If you need some time to think about it, then I guess that’s fine,” he growled under his breath, obviously growing impatient.

“Or,” Peter smirked, “maybe I could help you make up your mind?” He hold out his arms, showcasing the tight t-shirt he wore which seemed to be painted onto his lean musculature.

Derek directed his quiet growl at his uncle, who bared his canine teeth in response. Both of the hunky werewolves growled at each other, trying to intimidate the other into backing out of their courting of Stiles, all the while the human awkwardly shuffled his feet.

“Dammit,” Stiles cursed to himself. “I just wish that there was a way I could choose the both of you.”

At that moment, Derek launched towards Peter, his teeth bared and his claws protruding. Peter leapt forward as well. However, the crash that Stiles was expecting didn’t come. Instead, Derek’s muscular body slammed into Peter’s older and leaner one, the action resulting in an something more akin to two liquids meeting.

Stiles’s eyes widened when he saw what looked like Peter’s slimmer body being swallowed by Derek’s larger one. Derek looked shocked and Peter let out a surprised gasp as they witnessed their bodies merging together. It seemed as if Derek’s body was taking Peter’s into his own, both of their bulk combining and forming a much larger form. Derek’s already large muscles took in Peter’s toned ones, growing in size to the point where his biceps inflated the smallest bit and his pecs puffed out a little more, even having Peter’s chest hair grow out over them. Their clothes even merged together, leaving Peter’s classic deep v-neck shirt being covered by Derek’s black leather jacket, their blue jeans looking the same yet containing a much, much larger bulge in the front of them. Lastly, Derek and Peter’s head smashed into each other, molding together for a brief second before forming a brand new visage. This new face had Derek’s eyebrows and serious eyes, yet it also had Peter’s cocky smirk and the little lines indicating his maturity. Peter’s stylized hairstyle took on Derek’s black hair color with some little grays at the sideburns, and Derek’s manly stubble grew out over Peter’s square jaw.

Finally, before Stiles stood a muscular, taller man who had traits belonging to both Derek and Peter. It did however take Stiles a second to realize that this brand new man before him had one eye being Derek’s alpha red while the other was Peter’s beta blue, letting him know that although it seemed impossible, both men were in this new form before him.

The newly merged Derek/Peter used both of his larger, muscled arms to feel around his new body in awe, a shocked look on his handsome face. “Wha-what?” he wondered aloud in his deep, manly voice that had Derek’s baritone and Peter’s cocky inflection. “What just happened?” He looked up at Stiles in wonder and confusion, taking an uneasy step forward, trying to get the hang of having two minds controlling one body that contained both of their strength and musculature.

Stiles was stunned silent for once. His jaw hung low and his eyes were wide as saucers. “Holy crap,” he finally breathed as he watched the merged werewolves stumble around in their shared body, deeply turned on by the way the new guy’s large hairy pecs strained against Peter’s shirt and how Derek’s leather jacket struggled to contain the broadened shoulders. Best of all was how tight the pants were, showcasing the nearly foot long cock that snaked down the guy’s beefy thigh.

Derek/Peter looked up at Stiles, shock and horror over his new face. “Stiles!” he gasped. “We have to figure out a way to fix this— No! Wait!— What? Are you crazy?”

The poor human felt like he was going to get an aneurism watching the merged werewolves argue with one another in their shared body, each one fighting for control over the other.

“This might sound weird, but if we stay this way, then there’s no need for one of us to lose him!” the merged man said, his broad shoulders relaxing the slightest bit.

Stiles didn’t know which wolf offered the idea, but he could see the conflict the other one had as the new man scrunched up his face before briefly glancing at Stiles, a small, shy smile forming on his face.

“Do… d-do, uh, do you you think you can deal with this?” Derek/Peter asked quietly, holding out his buff arms to showcase his muscled-up, shared body.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess Stiles’s answer, especially after he took one more look at the monster cock that the merged werewolves had. “Absolutely,” he gasped.

The new man rushed forward and took Stiles into his arms, and Stiles marveled at how the man held him with a combination of Derek’s gentle caution and Peter’s aggressive passion, seemingly the best of both worlds. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Stiles’s, growling happily.

“We can deal with this too,” Derek/Peter agreed, nuzzling their mate with glee.

“So… do I call you Deter or Perek?” Stiles asked.

Tyler Hoechlin was in his dressing room, putting on the retro-looking Superman suit that his manager had told him to wear. The fabric was smooth to the touch and felt good as it covered the actor’s bulging muscles, making them appear larger as the blue material hugged every contour.

However, the red briefs felt way too tight for Tyler’s comfort. Although his impressive ass was semi-comfortable, his junk felt like it was caught in a vice grip, being squeezed by the tightness of the crotch area.

“This feels a bit too tight,” Tyler complained to his manager as he stepped out of the dressing room. The front of the briefs was constricting his famous eight incher so badly that it resulted in the actor having to waddle a bit to reduce the pain and prevent his balls from spilling out the sides and pressing against the thin blue fabric for all to see.

The manager barely glanced up from his iPhone, just grunting out a simple, “You’re fine.”

Tyler wanted to argue and ask for a larger brief, but the director’s voice boomed out, stopping him.

“Ready on set!” he yelled out. “Hoechlin!”

The Superman actor huffed, his broad shoulders rising and falling, stretching the fabric of his tight suit to the limit as he did so. With a grimace on his handsome face, he waddled on set, posing next to a destroyed green vehicle. When he turned to face the camera, he saw on one of the monitors that the suit make his cock look a bit smaller thanks to how much it squeezed it. 

He rolled his eyes and puffed out his impressive pectorals as a means of compensation.

“Action!” the director yelled out.

Forcing his bravado into his voice, Tyler Hoechlin recited his lines, acting like he was searching the damaged vehicle for any trapped passengers. As he moved around the prop, he could feel the stretchy material of the blue fabric clinging tightly to his muscles, making them pop out even more. Deep down, he was happy about that, already visualizing the online comments lusting over his hard-earned muscles. However, he was still annoyed at how confined his cock and balls felt in the small briefs. 

As the script demanded, Tyler continued to circle around the prop vehicle, breathing a little easier as he felt the tight, painful material of the red briefs starting to gradually loosen up.

That made it a lot easier for the actor to maneuver around the prop and perform his lines. As he walked, his waddle was reduced to his regular strut, the material apparently making room for his large balls, which no longer threatened to spill out… in fact, they started to feel comfortably cradled by the tight briefs. His cock was no longer being squeezed as well, and it wasn’t long until Tyler was back to his normal saunter, barely even noticing the feeling of the red briefs on his junk anymore.

“Lookin’ great, Hoechlin!” the director cheered when the actor finished his lines for the scene.

Tyler crossed his arms over his buff chest and watched one of the side monitors as it replayed the footage, trying to catch sight of any tiny mistake that he could fix. He was actually pleased with how he looked, admiring how his pecs and biceps were accentuated by the new costume, and even smirking the slightest bit at how his cock was straining against the red briefs on screen. The more he watched, however, the more he realized that something was horribly wrong.

Tyler watched in shock as the footage on the screen showed the actor sauntering around the prop as his massive red bulge in front of him visibly shuddered. His stomach dropped as he saw what looked like his impressive package starting to shrink, the bulge looking smaller and smaller by the second, the change in his gait coinciding with the change in his girth. His cock and balls keep shrinking until his bulge was minuscule, barely visible on the screen at all.

Tyler knew it was impossible, but he still had to take a deep breath to psyche himself up before he glanced down at himself. Looking over his large pecs, the actor paled at the flatness of the red briefs he wore.

Without a word, the actor sprinted off the set and back to the dressing room. The entire time he ran, he winced at the absent sensation of his package between his legs.  “That’s impossible,” he huffed to himself as he ran. “It can’t shrink! That’s impossible!”

He burst through the door of his dressing room and frantically tore the Superman costume off of himself. With his chest bare, he hooked his thumbs into the straps of the red briefs, inwardly pleading that his eyes and the footage were wrong. He yanked the briefs downward, nearly passing out at what he saw.

Instead of his impressive eight inch cock and golfball-sized balls, the actor wailed at the sight of his two inch nub and balls that resembled cherry tomatoes and were tight against his skin. With a shaky hand, the actor reached down and gripped his pathetic nub, only able to grab it with two fingers thanks to how small it was now. His large chest heaved with panic and when he looked in the mirror in the dressing room, he saw how ridiculous he looked with such massive muscles and a tiny, barely visible cock.

There was a banging knock on the dressing room door, startling the altered stud. “Tyler! What’s wrong?” his manager called out. “C’mon! We got a scene to shoot!”

Tyler blushed with humiliation over what happened to him, not fully comprehending how it was possible. “D-dude,” he stuttered, unsure how to voice his concerns, “my cock… it fuckin’ shrank!”

“What?” his manager laughed incredulously as he entered the dressing room, immediately going silent at the sight of the tiny mushroom barely poking out of the actor’s trimmed bush. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know!” Tyler cried, gesturing down at the small nub he now possessed. “What should I do? Should I go to the hospital?” Still the thought of the doctors seeing how small his cock was now made him want to hide. His career was ruined. There was no way he could play hunky roles if he was rocking only two inches.

His manager shook his head, biting down on his lip. “We have a very tight schedule,” he huffed. “Get dressed and get back out there or else they’ll look for another Superman.”

Tyler wanted to argue, but for some reason, the actor felt himself pulling the tight Superman costume back on. With a hesitant look in the mirror, he whimpered at his bulky muscles and barely present lump in the front of his briefs, already envisioning the online comments:

Tyler Hoechlin — Big Muscles, Tiny Dick!