Identity Death

Identity Death

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

As directed by @mrrharper

“Endless war will end our world!” Alan shouted.

“Stop funding our military!”

Alan was amongst the hundreds of protestors at the courthouse fighting against the proposed budgetary reforms. Schools, roads, transportation, parks, environmental protections agencies–they were all on the line. Through the presented bill, thousands of institutions would be shut down as billions of dollars would be rerouted towards a single entity: the military.

“The military corrupts! Stop the brainwashing!” Alan spat. He had organized this event under his alias, a popular political blogger on multiple social media outlets. Although his voice was loud and aggravated, Alan's physical appearance was anything but. He wore a baby blue tee and white-washed skinny jeans. 5’7 with bleached hair. All he needed was a rainbow somewhere to perfect his twink look. But he was not here to make that kind of statement. He was at the protest to make another form, something that could gain traction. Peering across the crowd, Alan saw his chance. 

A few of Alan’s fellow protestors were bombarding one of the towering guards with jeers. They scrutinized him, although it appeared none of their words got through the soldier’s heavy artillery padding. In fact, the solider stood proud in his position, dominantly poised with his chest puffed up in pride. Alan approached the guard slowly, noticing he remained perfectly still as the protestors continued to insult him. Without thinking twice, Alan approached and made his move. 

“How about you show us what they’re really funding, dickhead?”

Alan threw a fist at the soldier, putting all his strength behind the movement. Due to the crowds, the soldier did not recognize the motion until it was too late. Alan’s knuckle dove right into the much taller man’s neck, ricocheting into the muscular, masked chin. Instantly, there was a cheer from the crowd at the successful blow, but it was quickly hushed.

“You pathetic cocksucker,” the soldier growled. In a flurry, the once peaceful statue became a merciless brute, swinging down and dragging Alan out of the crowd. Before he knew it, Alan found himself handcuffed with the soldier escorting him off into the enemy’s territory.

“You can’t do this! This is illegal!” Alan cried out. 

“Shut your whiny mouth.” As soon as they were out of public sight, the soldier slapped Alan hard across the face. The warmth of blood soon filled his cheeks where the bruise began to bloom. Alan made sure not to react, but he could not hide the worry in his voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The barracks, you fairy prick.”

The soldier brought Alan to a building not too far from the protest lines. He guided them down numerous hallways, Alan losing track before they even made it halfway there. There were checkpoints, various nods, and some curt conversations with other soldiers, but nobody questioned about Alan or the situation. Eventually, Alan was tossed into a small makeshift bedroom, only holding a cot and a pile of unwashed clothes.

“Get undressed,” the soldier demanded.

“Why should I listen to you?”

Alan was met with another forceful assault, this time a punch to his gut.

“Cause I’m First Sergeant, maggot, which means out of the two of us, I’m in charge.”

Alan scoffed. “Is that your name: ‘First Sergeant’?”

“First Sergeant QF24,” the soldier gruffly shot back.

“That’s not a name either,” Alan replied. 

“Been in service so long I don’t need a civilian name.”

Alan wanted to jump on this, make a point about how this was evidence of the dangers of the military, but First Sergeant continued.

“While my identity is real, I assume the one you were about to give me is not. What do you go by, something like that 'AlanActivist' snot?”

Alan blushed, believing that his pseudonym had been cool and unique.

“It’s about time you considered that maybe it is not the military that enforces this ‘identity death’ you all are so worried about, but your own belief system.”

“You can’t be serious,” Alan snarked, surprised at the soldier’s intelligent argument. First Sergeant was however humorless, once again pointing to the pile of discarded clothes.

“Get dressed, degenerate.”

The soldier placed one of his giant, gloved hands behind the twink’s back and pushed him towards the pile. It appeared to Alan as a giant heap of army green and camouflage. Slowly but hesitantly, he began to strip himself of his clothing, hoping to avoid any further hazing. Once down to his underwear, he silently pleaded that he would not have to drop anything else.

“Soldiers go commando, sissy.”

First Sergeant quickly appeared behind Alan before ripping his underwear clean off, exposing the twink’s bare bottom and small package to the world. Alan quickly covered himself up with one hand before leaning down towards the pile. He grimaced, his fear no longer overriding the powerful musk seeping from the military cloth. First Sergeant chuckled at his disgust from behind.

“Aren’t homos supposed to like that kind of thing?” he asked, before grabbing the back of Alan’s head. “Go on, get a better whiff of it!” Amused, First Sergeant plunged Alan’s head into the musky pile of clothes. Alan’s oxygen supply was cut off, forcing him to inhale the overpowering masculine fumes.

“You idiots never consider that being in the military is hard work. It’s not all fun and guns.” First Sergeant smothered Alan’s head further. “‘Bout time you realize what it’s like, standing on the front line all day, hot and sweaty and random strangers berating you for protecting their country, their freedom.”

The military body odor seeped into Alan’s system, numbing his body and clouding his mind. By the time he was pulled away, the naked twink struggled to form a coherent thought.

“Much better,” First Sergeant noted the lopsided smile on the twink’s face. “Now, fit yourself into some tactical gear.”

Without questioning it, Alan followed the soldier’s command. He did not know every single piece of equipment that went into the common soldier’s uniform, nor did he understand the procedure to follow, but somehow Alan managed to get the attire onto his body.

Combat pants, military-grade socks, gore tex boots. Camouflage button-up, hardshell jacket, belt with holster and magazine pouches. Shooting gloves, army print hat, face mask. It took a minute longer for Alan to place every minor piece of tactical protection onto himself, but finally his smaller frame was completely covered, dwarfed by the oversized gear.

“Looking like a real soldier there,” First Sergeant mocked. “Now let’s actually make you one.”

Already covered in the musky clothing, Alan’s intellectual ability had been dulled considerably. But when First Sergeant approached, clutching Alan’s head once more before shoving it into his wet armpit, his brain completely halted. Coming straight from the source, the soldier’s stench wafted past all Alan’s barriers, taking control immediately. Its first instruction was to keep sniffing, its second was to conform.

With a chuckle, First Sergeant watched as Alan’s body began to expand underneath his hold. The shrimpy twink grew inside of the tactical gear, filling it out properly in every direction. Muscular arms filled the sleeves of the jacket, meaty hands stuffing the crevices of the gloves. The vest became as padded on the back as it was in the front, juicy pectorals and rigid abdominals forcefully pushing against the fabric. 

Thicker thighs padded the pants, bloated feet crowded the massive boots. Two muscular buttocks crammed the seat of Alan’s pants. A lantern jaw and cleft chin became prominent underneath the face mask. Buzz cut hidden by the cap, deeper voice waiting to confirm with “Sir, yes sir!” First Sergeant even noticed the prominent padding his new soldier was developing beneath the belt. When he ultimately removed Alan from his hold, the man before him now stood at the same domineering height.

“Good, now just stand still for one moment.”

Even if he wanted to, Alan could not move. The musk was still lingering in his mind, holding him steady as First Sergeant deposited an obnoxious military headset onto Alan’s head. He then plugged the headset into a walkie-talkie before tuning it to an empty channel. A robotic voice began looping into Alan’s ears, along with a few simple tones to open up the receptive pathways in his brain.

“Ready to get back out there?” First Sergeant asked, knowing his fellow soldier could not hear him. With a smirk, he escorted the dumbfounded subordinate out of the room, pacing slowly as Alan absorbed the propaganda. It was simple phrases, nothing too complicated but through repetition effective on the psyche. “Military good,” “pacifism bad”. “Nationalism good,” “multiculturalism bad.” “Masculinity good,” “progressivism bad.” The messages were rudimentary, but deliberate.

Once they stepped back into the open, fresh air, Alan’s consciousness resurfaced. He tried to fight back against the rampant messaging, doing his best to tune out the audios as the First Sergeant led him back to the front line. Alan was being attacked on all fronts: his morals, his identity, his sexuality. Every time he turned away to defend one trait, it was like he lost another. He felt himself dwindling, chipping away.

Before long, the two stood directly in front of the courthouse, mere feet away from their first encounter. First Sergeant loaded the new soldier up, arming the man with a weapon and other items necessary in case of an emergency.

“Let’s see if you’re done cooking yet.” First Sergeant looked directly into his subordinate’s eyes, pleased with their reflective quality. He then removed the headphones.

“Name and rank, soldier?” he saluted. The other man fell into place, mirroring his actions.

“Private Aaron Steel, MH36 sir!”

First Sergeant smiled. The name change was a good sign of transition, but complete removal would have been preffered.

“Ready for the task, soldier? Will you be loyal and obedient to the greatest nation? Follow every instruction in the name of tradition?”

The soldier nodded his head quickly, “Affirmative, sir.”

“Alright then.” First Sergeant replaced the headphones back onto the private’s head, knowing a little more time would do the trick. “Dismissed. Get back to work, private.”

“Sir yes sir!”

First Sergeant strolled back to his command at the front line. The new private monitored the crowd, absorbing his commands as he scanned for any disturbances.

Ball Practice

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-13 by time-to-transform ---

I saw you checking us out at our practices. Can’t blame you, I mean watching a bunch of muscular jocks getting sweaty and tackling one another is pretty fucking hot.

I decided to do you a favor and transform you into the football that we’ll use from now on. Now, instead of watching from a distance, you can be up close to all of the sexiness going on here. I bet you’ll love being gripped tightly by my strong, meaty hands. And just wait until we start sweating even more, the manly odor we produce from all this exercise absolutely reeks.

If you got turned off simply by looking at us practice, you’re going to be in a horny paradise from now on. Hope you enjoy spending the rest of your life being roughly handled and tightly held by a bunch of sweaty football jocks. You’re welcome.

Becoming Bryce

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-15 by newyoutf ---

Alex opened the door of his apartment and threw his keys onto the counter, his eyes darting around. He’d been expecting a delivery today, the delivery notification came in just minutes ago.

“God damn Bryce, couldn’t even accept the delivery, the one favor I’ve asked,” Alex thought to himself.

Bryce was Alex’s roommate. A large, handsome jock of a man; quite the opposite of Alex. If Bryce wasn’t home he’d be at the beach, the gym, or out hitting on everything that had a pulse. Alex had always had a love/hate relationship with the jock, but he was also jealous that he wasn’t and couldn’t ever be muscular and manly in the same way that Bryce was.

“Hey, Bryce, you here? I had a delivery?” Alex asked loudly.

A few days ago Alex had seen an oddly specific ad in his Instagram feed for a special kind of spray-on supplement that claimed to be able to “bring out the jock in you!”. The twenty-four-year-old had been trying desperately to pack some weight onto his thin body, and in that desperation, anything that claimed it might help was an option.

Alex walked toward Bryce’s room, the door half shut but the light still on.

“Oh yeah man, got it here!”, Bryce’s unmistakable, deep voice echoed out from behind the door.

He opened the door to see the small box open on the floor, the shipping label torn through the middle with the words “From: New You Inc.” still partially legible.

The six-foot-two Bryce was standing at his desk, shirtless, with his strong, hairy chest on full display. Alex spied a small spray canister with the label “Jock Formula” written across it in Bryce’s meaty hand.

“No!“ Before Alex could stop him the dimwitted stud pressed down on the cap and sprayed it under his arm.

“Huh… it’s already empty?” the jock said, confused because he hadn’t bothered to read any of the included writing.

“Yeah, it’s a single dose, Bryce! That shit was expensive,” Alex bemoaned, barely containing his anger.

“Oh shit, sorry man,” Bryce turned to face Alex, a regretful grimace crossing his handsome face.

“What’s the deal anyway, it smells like… sweat? Aren’t these sorts of things meant to smell good?” Bryce said, sniffing his hairy underarm.

“That’s probably just you. It’s not a fragrance anyway, it’s was meant to be some kind of supplement, to help me you know, bulk up a bit,” Alex replied bashfully.

He snatched the empty canister from Bryce’s hand and examined the bottle, reading the fine print on the side: “Single-dose only. Warning: Strictly for use only by men who do not match the description of a jock. Effects are unknown outside of this group.”

“Weird warning... Whatever, it was probably just a scam like all the rest anyway,” Alex thought in defeat as he turned to leave Bryce’s sweaty room only to be startled by a heaving groan from behind him.

“Augh!”

The loud, lurching moan made Alex jump. He turned to see Bryce bracing against the desk with his mouth hanging open and breathing heavily.

“Ugh, fuck!”, Bryce lightly thrust his hips forward and slumped into the desk chair sitting next to him.

“Bryce? Are you okay?” Alex spoke slowly with genuine concern.

The jock now had an enormous, raging boner visible through his loose gym shorts. Alex blushed staring at the outline of his hunky roommate's long, thick cock.

“I… I think I’m having a reaction or something man...,” Bryce moaned, having difficulty moving off the chair. He tried repeatedly to stand only to moan and fall back down.

Alex thought back to the odd warning label on the bottle and began to panic. What would happen if a jock tried to use the spray? Bryce’s rolled his eyes back as he thrust slowly and deeply upward. A large, damp patch appeared on the front of the shorts, followed by large loads of cum seeping through the fabric. Alex watched in astonishment as the stained shorts began to disintegrate, revealing the throbbing eight-inch cock that was contained within. Bryce heaved and moaned as ropes of cum shot up his thick abs.

Something about Bryce’s body looked unusual at this stage. Alex could have sworn the tall man looked a bit shorter. Indeed, Bryce was shrinking, and at a rapidly accelerating pace. His chest appeared to flatten and his muscular limbs deflated and retracted. His entire body was taking on a fabric-like texture as it rapidly receded inwards. Soon, all that was left of Alex’s roommate was a jockstrap sitting in the chair.

Alex stumbled backward in shock and sat on the side of Bryce’s bed. His mind was swirling with panic as he clasped his hands over his face, certain his situation was a bad dream and that he’d wake up any second. A light thud followed by brushing across his ankle caused him to lower his hands and see that the jockstrap had moved itself to the floor and attempted to push itself under his feet.

Alex screamed and recoiled his legs from the floor, jumping upright and unwittingly giving the jockstrap the perfect opportunity as it flew up his legs.

“Fuck! Get off!” Alex yelped as he hopped across the floor, slamming into the desk and drawers trying to pull the material away from his shorts. His horror only deepened when his shorts sizzled and frayed in contact with the jockstrap, melting into the air within seconds. His briefs met the same fate only moments later. There was no contest to be had. The jockstrap easily forced its way up his now bare legs and wrapped itself around his ass and cock.

“What the fuck?! Get off! G- get... augh!” Alex hunched over, stabilizing himself on Bryce’s desk. The sensation of the jockstrap hugging his soft cock was mind-blowing. Between gasps of pleasure, Alex heard a quiet cracking, whimpering in response as his legs began to creak, stretching longer. He thrashed backward from his hunched position allowing his back to soar taller. Alex’s arms felt heavier as they too stretched longer. Groans escaped his lips as the lengthening stopped. The formerly five-foot-nine man was now a lanky six-foot-two. However, he wouldn’t be lanky for long.

Alex’s thighs ached and pulsed. He placed his hands on them, groaning as the muscles swelled and expanded. He pushed harder into the throbbing muscles as if pushing back might stop what was happening. But the thighs just continued to bulge with muscle.

The straps around Alex’s rear tightened harder and harder as his ass swelled into them, round and firm. He grunted, shooting a massive load into the jockstrap while his cheeks expanded. Brown hair began to swirl out of the perfect globes and across his massive legs. It spread across his shins while his calves bubbled and bulged with strength.

Something about Alex’s new legs looked vaguely familiar to him, but his train of thought was interrupted by the upward spread of the changes.

“Please... no,” the groans bubbled from Alex’s throat as his stomach began to tighten. Looking downward he could see the soft outline of abs appear. The bulges of muscle only deepened as the abs thickened further. He delicately and fearfully brushed his hands against his new abs. Those legs, those abs... Alex recognized them now. They were unmistakably Bryce’s. His mind was gripped by fear, “No... no... I can’t be...”

He lurched and gasped feeling his nipples become erect, begging to be touched as muscle began to form below them. Alex blew another load feeling the thick, meaty pecs surge forth from his chest, coated in a dusting of dark, manly hair. Whatever doubt he had was washed away, this was his roommate’s chest. Alex couldn’t help but think ahead, that he’d gain Bryce’s muscular arms, his looks, his massive cock. Fear quickly gave way to desire. He couldn’t resist, he was turning into his hot roommate and the thought turned him on immensely.

“Oh fuck yeah,” a smirk crossed his face as the pressure rose in his shoulders, groaning as they pushed outwards, growing and broadening. He gripped one of the biceps with his hand tightly feeling his skinny arms begin to inflate. His biceps and triceps gradually swelled and packed on strong muscle, his grip being forced more and more open, unable to come close to holding the beautifully thick arms. Alex’s cock pulsed hard at the realization these dominant, muscular arms were truly his. His thin forearms writhed and twitched as muscle blossomed and grew within them. Veins snaked across them, running down his hands, and followed by a trail of new hairs. Alex held his trembling digits in front of his face, watching and feeling his palms creak and expand. The fingers twitched as they soared outward into the air, growing unbelievably long and proportionately meaty. Alex moaned in delight at the feeling of the weight and size of his new digits.

The same erotic stretching sensation that plagued Alex’s hands next infected his feet. Knowing that Bryce wore a size twelve, Alex knew what he was in for as the toes on his size eight feet began to stretch longer. His toes raged against his no-show socks, stretching the cotton beyond belief. Beneath the thin, strained material he could them stretching longer and thicker before they tore through. The hairy digits twitched and throbbed as his soles spread longer and wider across the floor. Alex gawked at the big feet, recognizing them as Bryce’s, but now his own.

Alex growled in anticipation as the changes rippled up his neck, causing it to widen and thicken. His sensual grunts lowered in pitch as his vocal cords morphed. His nostrils flared outward and inhaled deeply as the small button nose grew longer and thicker. A sharper, broader, more attractive jawline emerged from his face while his cheekbones shifted. His cock drooled with the knowledge that he was transforming into his handsome, jock roommate. The short hair on his head thickened and grew out, gaining waves and curls while darkening a shade. His teeth glimmered as his smile becoming a cocky smirk no one could resist. Reaching to his face, he could feel the short stubbly beard that Bryce usually had forcing its way out.

Alex turned to the mirrored wardrobe at his right, drenched in sweat, and immediately released a massive wad of cum at the sight of the manly face, Bryce’s face, looking back at him.

Alex felt his balls surge and rumble as they inflated. Emptied of cum from repeated orgasms prior, he felt them weighed down heavier, filling with new, hot, jock cum. He smiled with a dumb, devilish grin as his cock began to quiver and throb, signaling what was next to come.

An inhuman roar spilled from Alex’s mouth as his cock began to swell in size. The head bulged against the jockstrap, bloating outward and spewing more cum into the soaked jockstrap. The lengthening cock shoved against the material, pushing it further and further away from his waist and offering a view of the thickening, veiny shaft within.

Alex muttered under his breath, enthralled by the sensation of his cock morphing into a carbon copy of his roommate’s. He rubbed his hands across his beefy pecs and abs, taking in his new form and embracing the big, manly jock he now was.

His cock bounced upward as it slipped out the top of the jockstrap, having grown too large. The front of the jockstrap snapped back elastically against the top of Alex’s hairy legs. He gazed downward, panting at the massive, pulsating cock. Cum oozed out of the mushroom head, running down his eight-inch shaft. It quivered, longing to be stroked, and Alex was all too happy to oblige. He gripped the monster in his hand and throttled it.

The jock couldn’t last long, given he'd been teetering on the brink since the very beginning. Alex bellowed as the most intense orgasm of his life rocked his entire body. His large balls tensed as cum repeatedly rocketed out of the hard python, spraying up his hard, muscular chest and across the room; his shy, nerdy personality traits being pumped away with it.

Blinded from the pleasure, his mind blurred, the gaps that had formed being filled with new traits: sports, the gym, and sex were all that mattered to him now. Once the post-orgasmic glow passed the new and improved Alex made a stupid grin, impressed with the mess he’d made.

He stuffed his large, soft cock back into the jockstrap, smearing it with sweat and cum. He shuddered, feeling something strange across his body as if a moan were echoing out from the jockstrap.

He looked down at the piece of fabric, “Hey Bryce, hope you’re liking it down there, bro,” Alex snickered as he adjusted his package.

Growing into it

Andy was a skinny gay kid. New in the college scene he asked your help giving him a makeover. Looking into his closet, you were dismayed to only find cargo shorts and graphic tees. No way you guys were going to the club wearing that. You took him to the local goodwill and told him to bring you stuff he liked. 5 minutes later he comes back with a red flannel shirt four or five sizes too large. This kid was hopeless. But you weren't going to give up that easy. Hoping he'd see how ridiculous he'd look in that oversized shirt, you took him to a trying booth and asked him to try it on. For some reason he took off the basic tee he was wearing to try the flannel on. Just as expected it looked silly. Like a boy wearing his big brother's clothes. The sleeves flowed way past his hands. Half of his thighs were covered by the shirt.

"Maybe something a bit smaller, buddy. Guys wanna see some skin." You said.

But before you could say something else you notice something happening. Were you getting shorter? No. It was Andy. You'd figured you were both the same height but now you saw he was taller. Suddenly way taller. In the seconds you stood in awe, Andy's body had apparently extended itself to over 6 feet.

Despite still fitting largely, the shirt's sleeves were now the correct length.

"I don't know, man. I kinda like it." He said. His voice sounded deeper. More masculine. "You think I should show some skin, though?" He asked as he undid the first two buttons. You couldn't help but feel a twitch in your crotch from hearing his new voice.

As he finished undoing the buttons and studied his reflection again, you noticed the changes weren't over.

His face became more angular, more handsome than his usual cute.

With every breath Andy took, the shirt's fabric pushed further out, as big meaty pecs formed underneath. Round thick shoulders pushed the shirt into shape and now the sleeves were taught with bulging biceps and forearms.

"Uhh. Maybe tie it around the waist to see how it looks." You suggest. "The club can get really warm."

He nodded and began disrobing, giving you a smirk. You just wanted to see the results of his transformation, of which he seemed mostly unaware. As he slid the shirt off you witness 8 solid abs popping out as the process continued.

"Dude these shorts you got me are way too small." Andy said as he fumbled to unbutton his cargo shorts with his now bigger hands, the waist of which seemed really close to bursting from accommodating the swelling of his thighs and the appearance of a voluminous and bouncy bubble butt.

Huh... Somehow he thought his shorts came from the store instead...

As he ties the shirt at his waist you see the rest of his body bulking up as well. Feet extending and widening, calves tensing and swelling. The final growth happens as the vague silhouette of his dick through the fabric of his boxers became longer and thicker and then started bulging indecently out as the pouch became fully packed.

You just then realized the throbbing hard on you had after seeing your friend hulk out into this muscle god.

"I think I look great! Don't you?" He asks you, flexing and posing.

"Ye-yeah man. You look great actually." You stutter.

"I knew this one was just perfect for me! I can't wait to show it at the party." You just don't know if he means the shirt or his new hot body.

"You sure you don't want to pick something for yourself?" He vacantly asks, still absorbed by his own reflection.

Looking at Andy and then at yourself you quickly reply.

"Actually, can you show me where you found that shirt?"

White Hat

--- Originally posted on 2018-08-20 by grandwagonranchmaker ---

You were staying with your aunt and younger cousins in Texas for the summer. So far your days consisted of running and hiding from your younger (but bigger cuz Texas) cousins to try to study for your college entry exams. Whenever one of them caught you with a book they would relentlessly bully you for trying to be smart and stay in school.

You were taking shelter in the basement one day when you noticed a door, almost invisible under layers of dust, dirt and debris. You figured this might be your golden oppourtunity to escape them. You crack open the door, coughing and wheezing on all the dust thats kicked up and inside find… a bedroom. The room was unnervingly clean and well kept as if it had been used just today. It looked like a typical Texas boy’s room with lots of jeans, belts, sports equipment and a few naughty magazines under the bed. But what you were most drawn to is the white hat laying on the bed like it had been waiting for you.

“What’s this new hat doing here?” You feel compelled to put it on and when you do you slide it around backwards. The hat seems to give a satisfying click as it slides into place and the room begins swaying gently and throwing you off balance. You stumble over to the closet feeling every footfall get heavier and harder. Your small nerdy size 7s expand, to 8s, then 9s, then 10s. They grow with each step causing you to almost fall over with your comically sized proportions. The big toes feel so much more sensitive and cover so much more floor space then youre used to. They continue sizing up to 11, 12 and finally 13 feeling like huge boats chained to your legs!

“What the fuck done happen to my feet” you blurt out. Your legs share the same fate, getting thick as tree trucks and longer to match. You barely slide your nerdy shorts off in time before your buff manly legs can destroy them. But it doesnt stop as your ass expands in your underwear and your dick explodes in size with big Texas balls to match. You’re forced to remove your underwear as well. The only thing in the closet you find is a big pair of boxers and jeans waiting for you. Desperate, you slide them on trying not to enjoy how comfortable they feel. Your big dick floating nicely in the large boxers while still making a reasonable bulge. You feel a need to complete the look and pull out a nice belt, wrapping it around your perfect waist and clicking it together sending another shock of pleasure through your body.

You notice your upper body changing next and strut over to the full body mirror with renewed confidence and excitement. You hasily tear away at your shirt revealing beautiful, full pecs with a dark Texas tan covering them. Your abs are now hard and firm with a darker, thicker treasure trail crawling up them. You eagerly flex, showing off those bulging new biceps and thick patch of musky underarm hair.

“Haha gonna need a bit of Axe bro!” You spray yourself down, inhaling the overwhelming scent. The particles seep into your head, rotting what was left of your nerdy brain. You won’t be worrying about those tests anymore, you can barely spell college. Your hair darkens and shortens, a puff coming out of the front of your hat. Your face arranges to be dumb and innocent looking with cute puppy dog eyes and a dull farmboy grin. As the last of the cloud is absorbed into you, you stomp out of your room, big bare feet slapping the ground and your bulging sweaty upperbody exposed for all to see. Its time to join your brothers for today’s chores before you go into town for some fun!

Great mental change/hypnosis story.

Original post is dead. Use the "Keep reading" provided by @imsrtman to read the rest.

I’m a dumb jock

God, I ached all over. You’d think that a first workout at the gym wouldn’t hurt so much the day after. It felt like I’d slept in a pretzel position, and my head was pounding. All I wanted to do was shed a few pounds from my overweight frame, and it looked like I had my work cut out from me.

I craned my neck, it was so sore. It had to be super early in the morning, my alarm hadn’t gone off. But as my alertness set in for the day, I realized the ceiling light was on.

Why had I slept with the ceiling light on? I bolted upright, which led to some pain and stiffness, but I disregarded it as I looked around the room. Which was definitely not my room. It maybe wasn’t anyone’s room, the walls were all gray and boring, save for a mirror on the wall. Also strange is that there wasn’t a door.

Naturally, being abducted I started to freak out. What the hell was going on? My fears started spinning around my head. I wasn’t sore because of working out, I was sore because I was abducted! I fervently looked around the room for any escape, trying to evaluate my situation.

Dumb jocks don’t panic.

What? Where did that come from? There was no speaker, and I didn’t hear anything out loud.

Dumb jocks don’t panic.

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