Don't Look So Sad, Musclestud. Your Head Doesn't Look Too Tiny.

Don't look so sad, Musclestud. Your head doesn't look too tiny.

Hope this helps with the writers block ;)

"Hey! Our ball!" one of the scrawny beachgoers whined as Aiden kicked their beachball off into the distance.

The muscled hunk bellowed out a devious laugh as he watched the white and red plastic ball starting to drift away in the water, caught in one of the ocean's riptides.

He stomped away from the sulking beachgoers, laughing to himself. His buddy, Edward, laughed along with him, the both of them enjoying acting like obnoxious bros at the beach.

The muscled duo were complete alpha studs, and they found immense enjoyment in bullying the smaller guys at the beach, shoving them around and making it known that they viewed them as lesser. They looked like twin muscle studs, their perfectly shaped and sculpted muscles on display as they sauntered across the beach.

Aiden felt an odd cooling sensation brush over him, and he scratched at his chest, wincing when he heard the sound of rubbing plastic.

"What the hell?" he wondered aloud as he looked down at his pecs, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he saw the shiny quality to his chest. It looked like every pore was filled in, making his skin look completely smooth. Even his body hair was gone, giving his skin a shiny sheen that was impossible. He poked at his pecs, his heart racing when his fingers pushed into them much further than they should've, eliciting a squeaky noise.

Edward looked shocked too as he stared at his friend. "Bro!" he gasped. "You look like you're made of plastic!"

Aiden panicked even more when he felt around his body, every movement creating a rubbery noise that sounded out. It wasn't just his chest that had changed-- his whole body had a shiny and plastic quality to it. Even when he felt his black hair, the alpha male paled when he felt a thick lump of plastic, as if his hair had solidified and hardened, just like a Ken doll's.

"Wh-what happened to me?!" Aiden panicked, holding his arms out in front of himself. His trepidation increased when he noticed that his biceps looked a little smaller than they should've, flattening as if he were deflating. "I'm getting smaller!"

"Holy shit, Bro!" Edward panicked, his hand shooting out as he pointed at the deflating stud. "You have a fucking nozzle!"

Aiden followed the direction of his friend's finger, eying the plastic nozzle that was affixed to the front of his crotch, totally replacing his girthy cock. He felt lightheaded as he realized that it looked like his board shorts were plastic, too. It looked as if Aiden had turned into some kind of inflatable man, being made of plastic just like a beachball.

"Bro!" he cried out, grabbing a frantic hold of Edward's tank top. "You gotta blow me up! I'm fuckin' deflating!"

"No way!" Edward balked.

"Please!" Aiden begged, his fingers even starting to flatten as he lost more air by the second. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he was terrified at the thought of losing all of his air.

Edward looked pained for a moment before sighing. "Fine!" he grunted, dropping to his knees and sticking Aiden's new nozzle into his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath of air through his nostrils before blowing it all into Aiden's new plastic body.

Aiden couldn't hold back the low moan that surfaced as his friend inflated him. It felt like pure sex as he was being re-inflated. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and if his cock wasn't a tiny plastic nozzle, he'd be rock hard.

He opened up his eyes, relieved to see that he was back to his previous proportions. However, his relief was short lived as soon as Edward blew in another mouthful of air, forcing Aiden's muscles to continue inflating past their original size. His shiny pecs ballooned further off his chest, his biceps blew up past their normal size and rivaled bowling balls, and his ass perked up much more than it should've.

"Y-you can stop now!" Aiden panicked as his muscles kept getting bigger and bigger, crossing the line into bodybuilder territory. "This is too big!"

Edward didn't listen and kept blowing air into him.

Aiden panicked inwardly as he kept inflating. His muscles were crazy large now, looking round and shiny as if he were a giant balloon man. His pecs were the size of beach balls, as were his ass cheeks. His face even inflated a little, his cheeks rounding out and muffling his words. His arms and legs grew so muscled that they were rendered inflexible, sticking out straight from his inflated body.

Edward finally looked up at his much larger friend and blushed. "Oops! Sorry, bro! I guess I got carried away," he said.

Aiden just grunted and flailed his limbs uselessly. He tried to yell out for Edward to let some of the air out, but his cheeks had inflated so much that he couldn't get the words out. Instead, he just moaned.

"Here, let's get you back to the apartment," Edward said, grabbing a hold of Aiden and carrying him as if he weighed nothing, which made sense since he was full of air now. "Maybe we can see if you can get even bigger!"

(This was from a deleted request where an anon wished to swap bodies with someone else because they were, "Short and blonde")

Blonde? A little on the short side?

Okay, I got it. Lemme just snap my fingers and… *SNAP!

“And next to the stage: The Welsh Dragon! Flex Lewis!” an announcer bellowed through a speaker system, and you heard a roaring thunder of applause emanating from what you deduced must’ve been a sizable crowd.

At first you were confused as to where you were since all you saw was a blinding light for a second. However, you felt your legs moving forward, propelling you closer to the source of the sound. Something was off about your walk. You could feel your thighs rolling around each other as you moved, making you waddle. There are also something else off about your gait that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You felt so heavy with arms colliding with lats and your front seemingly weighing you down.

Eventually your eyes adjusted to the light and you found yourself standing out in front of a large crowd on a stage. Flickerings of lights danced around, indicating pictures being taken. Your heart raced in your chest and you frantically looked around before you spotted a large screen behind you, one of the ones that concerts utilize to showcase a larger picture of what’s onstage.

You spotted the image of bodybuilder Flex Lewis looking panicked on the screen. His eyes were wide and he was looking around the stage as if he were lost. His massive muscles were pumped to perfection; his huge pecs protruded off his chest invitingly and his biceps glistened underneath the lights reflecting the posing oil he was covered in. Then it dawned on you.

Whenever you moved, Flex Lewis moved.

Your jaw dropped (Flex Lewis’s image doing the same), and you raised of both your heavier arms above your head to form a double biceps pose. The crowd went wild as you flexed the giant arms that you now possessed. You stood in place as you registered what had happened, that somehow you’d managed to swap bodies with world famous bodybuilder, Flex Lewis.

A wide smile formed on your new face and you strutted further out onto the stage to show off your vast form to the numerous spectators who all cheered with every pose you performed. You bounced your massive pecs and turned around to show off your large, globular glutes.

“It looks like Flex has definitely packed on some serious size!” the announcer commented.

You leaned forward and performed a most muscular pose, feeling so incredibly turned on as the crowd went crazy. You even eyed a cute photographer who winked at you as you posed, and you began to consider inviting him back to yours/Flex’s hotel room after the competition which you were sure you’d win. Then you’d let him feel up every inch of your massive, bulky body.

Basking in the joy that your new life was bringing you, you positioned your bulky arms behind your head and performed a front abdominals pose. 

The hot photographer’s eyes widened and he raised his camera to take a quick picture, a devious smirk forming on his face for some reason.

“Uh oh,” the announcer said, trying to hold back a laugh, “it looks like not everything about Flex Lewis had increased in size.”

You jerked back in confusion, dropping your arms in wonder as the crowd started to erupt in laughter. More lights flickered as your picture was taken some more and you grew confused as to what was happening. Just mere seconds ago, everybody was lusting over your broad form but now they were laughing and making fun of you.

“Folks,” the announcer chuckled, “let this be a reminder that roids shrink your junk.”

The laughter in the crowd grew in fervor and intensity.

“What the hell?” you asked aloud, hearing your new accented voice for the first time. You turned your head to look back at the screen that showcased your new, confused form. The screen had zoomed in on your body, more specifically the shimmery green posers that you wore. They were skin tight and traveled down low to form a hilariously small bulge at your groin.

You loudly gasped and looked down at yourself, paling at the sight of your pathetic bulge that barely tented your posers. With a shaky hand, you pulled the top of the posers away from you, and had to glance over your bulging pecs to gain a view of what you were packing.

Nestled in the green posers was a puny one-inch nub of a cock that was couple with tiny balls that were close to your body, no bigger than jelly beans.

“Holy shit!” you panicked, turning bright red when you registered all the flashing lights from the cameras that took pictures of a horrified Flex Lewis checking out his micro-dick onstage. Sure you were now a sexy bodybuilder who many muscle-lovers lusted over, and your muscles were so huge and manly that your size dwarfed most men, however, your cock was now so tiny that it was comical being attached to any man, let alone such a massive muscle frame. 

You covered up your minuscule bulge with a beefy hand, able to conceal it entirely with just one paw. You hurriedly rushed offstage, your face red hot with embarrassment. The roaring laughter was still heard from the stage.

“Poor micro-dicked Flex Lewis left the stage and is hereby disqualified!” the announced boomed over the speakers. “How embarrassing.”

Even your fellow competitors laughed at you as you shoved your way past them. Their posing pouches were all stuffed to capacity with their meaty cocks. All the while, you hid your pathetic nub from sight, humiliated beyond repair and knowing that you’d managed to ruin Flex Lewis’s bodybuilding career. You just hoped that he was having fun in your smaller body that had a much larger cock.

Flex Lewis 4/4

Derek got out of the shower and went to go get dressed when he saw the unknown harness hanging up in the closet, and pulled it out in confusion. The black strap in the front had "DADDY" printed on it, and the werewolf couldn't help but scoff at the word. His boyfriend, Stiles, had the annoying habit of referring to the slightly older stud as Daddy. Derek wasn't fond of the nickname, feeling as if he were being called old instead.

Before he could shove the awkward garment back into the closet, the black straps of the harness shot forward. As if they had a mind of their own, the straps wrapped themselves around the stunned werewolf's arms. They crept up his frozen limbs, snaking around his torso until an audible click rang out.

Derek yanked at the harness, trying to tear it off, but the garment refused to budge.

"What the fuck is going on?" the alpha werewolf growled as he tugged on the straps that only seemed to tighten. However, his confusion quickly turned into terror as he stared at his straining arms, holding them out in front of himself to get a better look.

At first, he'd thought that it'd been just his mind playing tricks on him, but Derek quickly realized that his arms were getting larger. It wasn't anything too drastic, but his biceps definitely pumped up and packed on more meat. Derek looked downward and gasped as his pecs followed suit, growing larger and pushing out from his torso more than they should've. Even his nipples expanded and became perky, sticking off his chest noticeably. His abs slowly began to fade as a layer of fat grew over them. When he was done expanding, Derek was still muscular, but he appeared more bulky.

An itching sensation came over the werewolf as black hairs started to sprout all over his larger frame, thick hair covering his new bulk and giving him a more manly appearance.

Derek, in a haze, wandered over to the mirror, his stomach dropping at the new gray hairs that were in his beard and the slight wrinkles near his eyes. He was older! He knew that it was impossible, but it looked as if the werewolf had aged up more than fifteen years, looking to be as if he were in his early to mid-forties now.

Derek looked like a total daddy!

The panic the werewolf should've felt quickly faded away as he admired his older, larger form in the mirror. He couldn't help but reach up and give his larger nipples a playful tug, moaning loudly at the electric sensation and instantly going rock hard. Even rubbing his large hands through the hair on his plump pecs felt great, and Derek couldn't help but smirk.

"Yeah," he happily growled, "I'm a hot sexy daddy."

"Derek?" Stiles asked as he entered the room. "Are you ready yet..." He trailed off as he saw his new boyfriend, his jaw dropping and his eyes going wide.

The older Derek turned around and crossed his arms in front of his hairy chest. "Hey there, Sport," he smirked. "Call me 'Daddy'."

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Alpha Derek Hale had his trademark scowl on his face as he shoved his way through the packed bar. It was Saint Patrick's Day, otherwise known as a day for Americans to get blitzed off their asses. His irritation with drunk people and his general distaste for society led to Derek staying home for most of the night, only leaving his house to pick up his boyfriend, Stiles.

He spotted his boyfriend near the back of the cramped bar, a litter of empty bottles near him and his friends. Derek huffed but stalked forward, only stopping when he felt a light hand on his shoulder.

"You're not wearing green!" some random dude decked out in a glittery green suit shouted over the thumping music and talking crowd. "It's St. Patrick's Day!"

Derek fought his instinct to growl at the random weirdo, but instead just settled on glaring. "I don't celebrate it," he curtly said, shoving his way past the decorated man.

"I guess you just need to get more into the spirit!" the man called out behind him, even snapping his fingers.

Derek barely had time to roll his eyes again before he felt his center of gravity shift rapidly beneath him. He wobbled on his legs and had to reach out and hold onto one of the tables in order to steady himself. The mysterious wave of dizziness fled as soon as it had appeared, leaving Derek leaning up against a table, wondering what had just happened.

"That was weird..." he muttered to himself before trailing off, his voice having an odd squeak to it. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What the hell was that-- what's wrong with my voice?" He sounded like he'd been sucking on helium, his usual growl sounding high and comical.

However, the squeaky werewolf was quickly alerted to something else. He held his arms out in front of himself, his eyes widening at the green hue his signature black leather had adopted.

Gasping loudly, Derek saw his altered reflection in one of the mirrored walls of the bar. He ran a disbelieving hand through his now red hair. However, he was soon much more concerned with the way his ears looked pointed, looking similar to the cosplay elf ears that Stiles would wear during D&D.

"You've got to be shitting me!" Derek huffed when he looked forward and saw that he was staring directly into someone's waist. He looked around the bar, miffed that he must've shrunken down to about three feet tall, looking totally ridiculous dressed in his green clothes, with his pointy ears, and red hair.

"Derek?" Stiles's slurred voice rang out.

Derek blushed at having his boyfriend see him like this.

"Y-you look like a leprechaun!" Stiles gasped.

Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed his boyfriend's hand, leading him towards the door. "Let's just get out of here," he growled in his squeaky voice. He struggled to get used to walking on his shorter legs, and also he felt weird having Stiles tower over him when it was supposed to be the other way around.

When they got to his Camaro, Derek literally hopped into the driver's seat and sighed with irritation as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He looked and sounded ridiculous and he had no idea how to fix any of this.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, placing a sympathetic hand on his smaller shoulder.

"I can't reach the pedals," the leprechaun Derek growled, kicking his tiny feet wildly.

Voting

(I have to repost this because it got flagged for some reason)

This is Colin. He works out with his wireless headphones on, blasting a carefully crafted playlist to pump his muscles to. One day, a devious gym-goer hacks his headphones and plays music with subliminal messages. What is the title of the playlist?

Playlist for Good Boys.

Colin sauntered across the gym floor, his sweaty and pumped up muscles bulging with masculine power as they strained his clothing to bursting. All the while, faint beats could be heard emanating from his wireless headphones. The stud always worked out with his headphones, constantly lifting weights to the beats of whatever song was on his carefully crafted playlist.

As he approached the lat pull down machine, Colin passed by one of the older gym-goers there: a bodybuilding coach by the name of Viktor. The large burly man was at the pec fly machine, his large hairy pecs spilling out of his workout tank with every rep. He playfully winked at the younger stud, making Colin wince and quicken his pace towards his desired machine.

Colin had nothing against Viktor, he just found it odd how the older man would frequently be staring intently at him, usually smirking. He shook off his uncertainty and went to performing reps at the machine, his massive muscles bulging with power as he worked out. The whole time, the music from his playlist blasted in his headphones. 

As Colin worked out to the beats of his playlist, he spied Viktor (once again) giving him one of his trademark devious smirks. The older muscleman yanked his phone out of his pocket and started to frantically type away at the screen, giving Colin another wink. 

Colin bristled at the unwanted attention, but forced himself to continue his workout. However, his focus was quickly interrupted when his playlist seemingly stopped and some unknown set began to play on his headphones. 

“What the…?” the stud muttered to himself, confused as to where this brand new list of songs had appeared from. Still, the beats were quick and the tempo seemed to match his usual playlist, so the hunk shrugged his broad shoulders and continued his workout.

Viktor just continued to smirk knowingly at the young stud.

Colin went about his usual gym routine, focusing on certain muscle groups that he would retain his perfectly proportional musculature. The temperature in the gym must’ve been set high because the stud was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable in his red shirt, feeling way too hot. He was at the weight pile, lifting large dumbbells, actually enjoying the new, mysterious music that was pumping on his wireless headphones when he noticed something.

“Shit!” he hissed, dropping the weights in shock when he saw that he was rock hard. The stud’s impressive seven inches was sticking straight out in front of himself, tenting his shorts in an obvious manner. He quickly attempted to cover himself with his hands, his face beet red from actually walking around the gym floor hard. He couldn’t believe that it took him so long to notice, and the hunk was humiliated to think that he’d actually been sauntering around the other guys with his hard cock bobbing in front of himself the whole time.

Colin made a move towards the locker room to go hide, but Viktor sauntered up and clapped the stud on his broad shoulders. “What’s the hurry?” he teasingly asked.

Despite wanting desperately to run and hide, Colin found himself staying in place, his eyes running up and down the hairy muscles of the older man. The way Viktor’s fuzzy pecs spilled out of his top and the way his thick thighs were tightly pressed together made Colin’s hard cock confusingly twitch.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Colin couldn’t seem to get a word out.

“And why so shy all of a sudden?” Viktor asked. “There’s no need to hide that.” He gestured down at Colin’s cupped hands in front of his crotch.

He wanted to argue, to push himself away from the older man, but instead Colin found himself dropping his hands to his sides and allowing his tented shorts to be in plain view of the muscleman. The young stud blushed some more, but no matter how much he screamed at himself, he couldn’t get his muscled arms to move so that he could shield his cock from view. It was as if he were paralyzed. 

His heart racing in his muscled chest, Colin tried with all of his might to move a muscle, but his body was unresponsive. His biceps bulged as he struggled to move, but his arms remained put at his sides.

“Don’t look so scared, Pup,” Viktor cooed. “Just go ahead and get more comfortable. I’m sure you’ll feel much better soon.”

Pup? Colin wanted to ask what the older man meant, but he was quickly more concerned with how his large arms finally moved; however, it was on their own accord and without any of his control.

Colin felt his hands grab the bottom of his red shirt and lift it up and over his head, exposing his sweaty chest muscles. He was quick to catch on the second he was exposed to the gym and the older man, his physical discomfort immediately disappeared. He was so caught up in how amazing it felt to have his plump pecs free from his confining shirt that he barely registered his thumbs hooking into the waistband of his shorts, eagerly tugging them down to the floor.

The young stud stood in the middle of the gym, rock hard and clad in nothing but a tight jockstrap. His hard cock tented out the pouch of the jock obscenely, and his perky ass bubbled out of the back straps for all to see. Colin was beyond embarrassed at his exposed nature, yet, he couldn’t deny that he felt some sense of relief, almost as if the thought of putting back on his baggy and confining clothing was repulsive.

Worst of all was that Colin quickly noticed that Viktor’s own shorts were also tented out, causing his heart to race in his muscled chest and his mouth to water. His breath sped up, causing his large pecs to heave as his eyes honed in on the older man’s hard cock.

Viktor noticed and crossed his large arms over this beefy chest. “Well?” he asked expectantly. “Are you going to be a good boy and take care of that?”

Good boy. 

Hearing that phrase set something off deep inside of Colin. He felt his muscles tense up as his cock spasmed and he unleashed a fat load of cum into his jockstrap, panting afterward. He immediately dropped to all fours and ground his face hungrily into the older man’s crotch, moaning loudly as he sniffed at his musk. 

With his teeth, Colin pulled at Viktor’s shorts, desperately tugging them down to the floor. Going commando, Viktor’s hard cock sprung out in front of him, bobbing tantalizingly in front of Colin’s face.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Colin felt himself lean forward and eagerly take in the older man’s cock in his mouth. Colin had never sucked off anyone before, but he was somehow sucking off Viktor like a semi-pro. He hungrily lapped at the older man’s cock and deep throated as best as he could, unable to stop his desperate moans the entire time. He had enough awareness to scream inside at what he was doing: blowing another man in the middle of the gym in nothing but a skimpy jockstrap. But Colin couldn’t stop. He was a little concerned with how quickly he was taking to sucking cock, and also how great it felt to have every other man in the gym gawk at his impressive muscles — both of those sensations rapidly drowning out the formerly straight hunk’s trepidation.

When Viktor came and unleashed his load, Colin eagerly swallowed every last drop, feeling an odd sense of pride that he’d gotten the older man off. From his all-fours position, he puffed out his chest with pride and held his head up.

“Such a good boy,” Viktor breathed, patting Colin on the head.

Colin’s cock twitched again at the phrase and he felt such an overwhelming surge of excitement at the praise from the older man. He felt that excitement bubble up in his muscled chest and he couldn’t resist letting out a loud, “Woof! Woof!” He even felt his bubblebutt jiggle as he wiggled his hips to and fro, unable to stop even when he became aware of the action.

Colin followed behind Viktor as he sauntered back into the locker room, focusing on how the older man’s meaty ass shifted with every step. He cock was fully erect in a matter of seconds and it took Colin a moment to realize that he was still down on all fours, following behind Viktor like some loyal dog.

Despite all of this, Colin felt zero sense of humiliation. In fact, he was surprised to find that he loved it. He basked in the warmth he felt when all of the other men in the locker room gawked at him crawling around like a dog, showing off all of his hard-earned muscled. And he especially loved it whenever some of them gave him pets. Even one of the scrawny ones scratched him behind the ear, and Colin felt himself roll over onto his back, presenting his rock hard abs and plump pecs. 

He let out a little whimper as he asked for belly rubs.

The scrawny gym-goer laughed as he gave in, rubbing Colin’s muscled chest playfully, eliciting howls of pleasure from the muscle stud.

“Such a good boy,” he said.