Derek Scowled In The Mirror As He Examined His New Muscled Body. Although His Previous Form Had Been

Derek scowled in the mirror as he examined his new muscled body. Although his previous form had been sculpted, his new body was now officially massive, making him look like a competitive bodybuilder. His pecs protruded far off his chest and his arms were so thick that they rested akimbo atop flaring lats. His thighs were so round and thick with muscle that they transformed his strut into a waddle.

The alpha werewolf inwardly cursed, berating himself for asking for Peter’s help when it came to the unending threats to his territory.

“What’s wrong, Derek?” Peter smirked from the other side of the room, crossing his arms over his own impressive, yet way smaller than Derek’s, chest. “You asked me to make you stronger, and I did just that.”

Derek gave the older werewolf one of his classic glares, puffing out his thick chest with power to try and intimidate him. “Yes,” he spat, malice dripping in his voice, “you did make me bigger... but, did you also have to make me smaller?!”

He moved a barely-flexible arm towards the tiny bulge that was covered up by his posers. Traveling down his washboard stomach, the way his waist pinched inwards before flaring out at his thighs brought the eye’s attention directly to his front. Since his massive thighs were constantly pressed against one another, they thrusted his bulge forward, highlighting just how tiny it looked when compared to the rest of his bulky frame.

And it wasn’t just due to comparisons, as Derek had initially thought when the power spell had been cast. He’d believed that it was an optical illusion due to how thick and muscular he’d became, but the very second he’d taken his boyfriend, Stiles, to the bedroom to explore his new bodybuilder frame together, he’d nearly passed out at the pathetic two inch nub and cherry tomato-sized balls that had replaced his formerly girthy package. It was a tiny cock that would look ridiculously small on anyone, let alone a massive championship-sized bodybuilder. What was worse was that, due to his massive body, all of his clothes were rendered skintight, showing off the flat front of his jeans, painfully illustrating how tiny the muscleman was.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. “I told you there were side effects,” he hummed. “I could turn you back to your regular body. But that wouldn’t guarantee that your dick would return to normal size.”

Derek paled at his two options:

1. Have his normal proportions, except with his eight inches stuck as a measly two.

2. Be a three-hundred pound bodybuilder with massive muscles... and a tiny cocklet.

“I’ll keep the muscles,” Derek growled as he waddled off towards his and Stiles’s room, annoyed at the fact that he was painfully hard from feeling his massive bulk rubbing up against itself. However, thanks to the pathetic size of his nub, it barely tented out his posers at all.

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!

“Where the hell is Hoechlin?!” the director barked, storming around the Superman & Lois set. “He’s two damn hours late!”

“I’ll get right on it, Sir!” the scrawny intern, Michael, said as he frantically pulled out his phone and texted the Superman actor, asking where he was. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long until his call ringtone began to chime as his screen lit up with the name: Tyler Hoechlin.

He immediately answered it and hissed in a low vice, so as not to attract any attention, “Mr. Hoechlin, where are you?”

“I-I need help… s-something’s wrong!” the normally confident actor stuttered on the other line, sounding like he was hyperventilating and on the edge of a panic attack.

Michael jerked back, confused. “Is everything alright?” he asked. “Where are you?”

“M-my trailer! Get help! Now!” the actor panicked before hanging up.

The intern shoved his phone into his pocket and sprinted as fast as he could into the backlot where the actors’ trailers were kept. He ran up to the one that belonged to Tyler and pounded on it with his tiny fists. “Mr. Hoechlin!” he called. “Mr. Hoechlin, please open up!”

The trailer’s shocks squeaked and the body appeared to rock back and forth, thunderous thudding noises sounding out. Slowly the door opened up, and Michael gasped loudly at what he saw.

Tyler Hoechlin’s worried face stared back at him, but that was the only thing he recognized. It looked as if the actor’s head had been copy/pasted onto the body of a super heavyweight bodybuilder. His crazy broad shoulders and massive traps swallowed his neck, and his ridiculously round pecs jutted off his chest so far that it could act as a shelf. His arms were as big as the intern’s waist and they were stuck at an awkward angle as they fought for space with his flaring lats. A cobblestone of abs traveled down his hairless torso, ending at his pinched-in waist. The slender waist looked oddly out of place given the barrel chest and the way Tyler’s thighs had inflated to gigantic portions. The sheer size of the them forced his junk forward, which had even appeared to have gained a couple of inches as well. The football-sized calves topped off the crazy big look that the actor now sported.

The intern was speechless at what he saw, but he couldn’t deny that the massive bulging muscles the hunky actor had turned him on.

“I don’t know what the fuck happened!” Tyler freaked. “All I’d done was up my workouts like the writers told me to!”

Michael swallowed loudly and tried to shrug and ignore his hardening cock. “Um, i-it’s not that bad?” he meekly smiled.

“‘Not that bad’?!” Tyler roared, trying to raise his beefy arms, but his range of movement was severely hindered by his bulky new muscles. “I gained one-hundred pounds of muscle in one night! I look like a fucking freak!”

“No, you look like Superman,” came a deep voice from behind the intern.

Tyler and Michael looked in the direction of the voice, seeing that it was one of the writers approaching with a large smile on his bearded face.

“This…,” he gestured towards the bodybuilder Tyler, “this is the new direction we want Superman to go into. All I had to do was get you to take that workout supplement, and voilà!”

Tyler’s jaw dropped, but his stubbly chin wound up resting on top of his massively inflated pecs. He paled as he struggled to wrap his head around what he’d just heard. 

The writer tossed him what looked like a small wad of fabric. “This is the new Superman costume,” he said. “You need to be on set in five minutes, or else the director might look for another actor… and I’d hate for you to lose that role, given that with that gay muscleman body all you’d be able to do is porn. Oh, and by the way, we’ve changed the title of the show to Superman & Lewis, and we’ve even gotten your old friend Dylan O’Brien to play Lewis: the love interest.”

Tyler slammed the door to the trailer in a huff, cursing as he struggled to put on the new costume with his huge muscles getting in the way. It was difficult to balance on thick legs that kept pushing together. His bowling ball sized biceps collided over and over with his juicy muscletits; worse was that his muscled arms wouldn’t stop accidentally brushing up against his expanded nipples, shooting humiliating jolts of electricity straight to his lengthened cock.

When he was done, Tyler opened up the door to his trailer again, his face beet red with embarrassment as he wore the brand new Superman costume: a skimpy set of posers that were colored the classic blue. His hardening cock stretched out the “S” emblem that was on the front of the pouch, and as he lumbered forward, it kept bouncing against his tree trunk thighs.

“Damn it!” the bulky actor roared as he tried to wedge himself through the regular-sized door of the trailer. His broad back and huge lats forced him to turn sideways, but his enormous pecs and inflated ass impeded his movement as well. After a minute of squeezing himself through the tight fit, the bodybuilder stumbled out onto the backlot, clad in just the Superman posers. The pouch struggled to contain his new member, and the back had disappeared completely between his rotund asscheeks which had inflated to the point of counterbalancing his muscletits.

The now-bodybuilder Tyler Hoechlin began to waddle towards the set, trying to get the hang of walking with huge thighs rolling over each other and his arms sticking out at his sides. He blushed furiously, but all the while his cock grew harder and harder as his bulk kept rubbing up against itself.

“Finally!” the director huffed when Tyler made it on set, not finding the sudden gain of one-hundred pounds of solid muscle odd at all. “Now Tyler, we’re gonna start with the scene where you’re examining the clue that the villain had left behind at the scene. And… action!”

Tyler Hoechlin’s eyes widened and he wanted to scream and demand that he be changed back to his regular self. He didn’t want to be some bodybuilder who was so massive that he could only wear slutty little posers. And he didn’t want to feel so turned on by the feeling of his heavy bulk brushing up against itself in different ways. Still, he felt his legs carry himself towards the prop, which he struggled to pick up.

Again, his biceps grazed his erect nipples, making him shudder with humiliating pleasure. “Ooohh!” he moaned loudly, his now thirteen inch cock springing out of his posers and waving wildly in front of him. Tyler gasped and dropped the prop in utter shock and horror.

“Cut!” the director shouted, turning to the smirking writer to discuss something quietly before turning back to Tyler. “We’re gonna continue, keep it out. And… action!”

Tyler Hoechlin didn’t think he could feel even more humiliated than before, yet there he was performing the Superman script in his new bodybuilder body, waddling around the set with his enormous hard cock waving in front of him the entire time, little beads pre-cum coming into sight the more his bulk rubbed against itself.

Meanwhile, Michael the intern kept staring at the whole scene. “I think this is my new favorite show,” he whispered as an embarrassed Tyler shuddered and blew his load, splattering his massive pecs and abs with large globs of cum.

-- -- --

[Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/doryfan1/art/Muscle-Morph-Tyler-Hoechlin-7-672564001]

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… 

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.

Derek was already a little annoyed with having been volunteered by Stiles to play for the company’s baseball team, but when one of the other players starting to comment on his musculature, he was trying his best to swallow his rage.

The player in question looked like one of those stereotypical depictions of steroid-abusing athletes. His large, grotesque muscles strained against the red uniforms of the team and the top few buttons of the team shirt were left undone because they couldn’t close around his bulbous pecs that resembled melons. 

“Maybe we’d be winning and you wouldn’t have struck out if you went to the gym some more,” the meathead said, giving Derek a sideways glance.

The alpha werewolf clenched his jaw, trying his best to ignore the idiot next to him. Yeah, Derek had struck out… but it was only because he’d kept swinging the bat too fast, missing the baseball over and over due to his werewolf speed. 

“I hit a home run,” the muscleman next to him continued, giving his pecs a little bounce. “I guess I got some strength behind my swing.”

“I’ll hit it next time,” Derek grunted, trying not to bare his teeth. Although he knew it was just a silly game, he was feeling miffed at having struck out in front of his entire company… and especially in front of Stiles who had given him a pity-clap when he’d slunk back to the dugout. 

Derek looked over at the bleachers were he saw Stiles happily chowing down on some popcorn. He looked and made eye contact, giving him a small wave.

The other player scoffed. “Not with those puny muscles,” he countered, going so far as to actually reach over and grab a hold of Derek’s fleshy pecs. “Those are hardly there. There’s no power behind you.”

Derek was stunned silent that the other man had had the nerve to grab his chest… which he wanted to argue was muscular, but of course it’d look unimpressive next to the steroid-user’s.

“I got my homerun, and my boyfriend doesn’t complain either,” the man smirked, gesturing at some random dude in the bleachers. This guy waved at the muscle man, using a much more animated wave than Stiles had when he’d waved at Derek.

The werewolf scowled to himself as he looked down at his own chest which did appear a little flat. The man’s groping hands had left a little tingling sensation behind, making Derek’s chest feel like it was buzzing. 

Derek’s team wound up losing, much to the werewolf’s dismay. As he and Stiles drove home, he was silently fuming. Due in part to being a sore loser and the muscleman’s condescending words, Derek kept his lips pursed into a thin line. And he was a little (or a lot) irritated that the muscleman’s boyfriend had given him a larger wave than the one Stiles had given him.

Plus, his chest still tingled uncomfortably to the point of feeling sore, like he’d just completed a killer Chest Day at the gym.

Stiles, trying to cheer up his husband, placed a small hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s just a game,” he meekly offered. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the other team had some werewolves on it too.”

It didn’t; Derek would’ve sniffed them out. “Uh, yeah,” Derek muttered.

They stopped at a red light and Derek looked down at his chest, his frown deep on his face. His baseball uniform was a little baggy and completely obscured his muscles, giving off the illusion that he was thin and weak, whereas the jerk on his team was approaching bodybuilder proportions.

“Hey, um…” he hesitated to say, blush forming on his face, “do you think… uh, don’t laugh. B-but, do you think I have a nice chest?”

Stiles flinched and looked at Derek wide-eyed, not used to seeing his husband act self-conscious. “Of course,” he answered honestly.

The tingling in Derek’s chest began to grow in fervor, almost like there was pressure forming in his pectorals. He shook it off.

“So, you don’t think I need to be bigger?” he continued, avoiding eye contact with Stiles at all costs. The light turned green and he was thankful he had an excuse to watch the road.

Stiles chuckled. “Is this because of Shawn?” he laughed, referring to the muscleman. “I mean, sure that guy has some big pecs, but who cares?”

Derek swallowed the jealous growl that wanted to escape his lips over Stiles talking about the idiot muscleman. The pressure in the chest continued to grow until it seemed as if a bubble burst within him, the tingling dissipating across his pecs.

Pop!

Derek and Stiles both went quiet as the top button on Derek’s baseball uniform popped off, shortly followed by the second. 

“What the—?” Derek wondered aloud as he looked down, his jaw dropping when he saw his own pectorals inflating at a rapid pace. The previously toned pecs ballooned out in front of him, filling out the confines of his shirt and stretching it to the limit. They puffed out and rounded, completely engulfing his neck and forcing him to adjust his arms around them as he drove. The huge pectorals burst out of the top layer of his baseball uniform, leaving him in his red tank top, showing off how top-heavy he now looked. His nipples had even pumped up, looking hard and erect as they protruded off the massive mounds that had become his chest. 

Stiles was silent as he watched his husband’s pecs balloon out, completely warping his toned physique to make him look like a guy who was obsessed with benchpresses. As the car traveled down the road, the rumble of the engine and the little bumps in the asphalt made Derek’s muscletits jiggle and bounce constantly.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Derek panicked, pulling over to the side of the road. He winced as his buff arms kept colliding with his huge pecs as he drove, and how he had to shift his seat back to stop his new muscletits from pressing against the car horn. He looked down at himself, shocked that he couldn’t see anything beyond his new shelf of a chest which blocked the view of his lower body. He could barely make out the tips of his nubby nipples which poked out of the straps of his tank top.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed in awe. “Holy crap! Your pecs are huge!” He reached out with a shaky hand and gave one of the inflated pecs a tentative squeeze.

“Oh shiiiitt,” Derek moaned, his head rolling back and his entire body spasming, which made his giant pecs jiggle even more. His perky nipples were burning now, a sensation he wasn’t used to. 

“Sorry!” Stiles immediately cried as he jerked his hand back. “Did that hurt?”

Derek’s already red face deepened even further. “No… they’re just really sensitive,” he panted, his cock feeling as if it’d burst through his pants simply from having Stiles give his huge chest a squeeze.

Even Stiles was deeply turned on. When Derek had asked him earlier if he’d needed a bigger chest, Stiles had wanted to tell Derek that he would love it if Derek had massive pecs that were disproportionately huge. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings because he’d picked up on how Derek hated Shawn’s guts. However, as he stared at the panting Derek whose inflated muscletits heaved with every breath and whose nipples looked so utterly tweakable, he was getting hard too.

“So,” he said, a devious plan forming in his mind, “you must like it when I do this…”

Stiles reached forward and ran his thin fingers through the wisps of chest hair that covered Derek’s inflated pecs, sending a shudder through the other man.

Derek struggled to form coherent thoughts. He knew that he should be panicking that his pecs had grown to the size of basketballs somehow, and that they were now the most sensitive part on his body. However, all of that turned to mush as his husband groped his larger pecs, causing him to see stars. His cock throbbed with want and the werewolf couldn’t stop but moan loudly from every touch.

“And what about this?” Stiles smirked as he reached down to pinch and toy with Derek’s erect nipples.

“Uuughh!” Derek squealed loudly as he came on the spot, shooting what felt like the largest load in his life. A big wet mark was on the front of his pants, and he blushed again at having gotten off by having Stiles play with his nipples, which used to never be sensitive, but now the man craved it. He knew that he should be panicking and trying to fix whatever had happened to him, but instead he found himself immediately looking forward to Stiles pecfucking him when they got home.

“You know,” Stiles added, “I think your pecs are about twice as big as Shawn’s.”

Arousal radiated off Stiles in waves, and Derek couldn’t help but growl playfully at his husband. “I suppose we gotta go find some shirts that will fit over these,” he chuckled, bouncing each of his muscle mounds, loving the hungry look on his husband’s face.

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[Base Photo Source: @bigmusclenm ]