White Hat

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!

I request some pretty interesting changes. I like to have the body of a porn star with a nice cock and balls to go with my buff bod.

A porn star, huh?

Well, I guess I could manage that. I’m curious though, why a porn star? Is it cause you like sex? People looking at you? People getting off to you and your body? Do you want all that attention? To have the power to make guys wet just by looking at you?

Yeah, that’s it isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes. The way they’re glossing over from just hearing me say all these facts that you know have always been true but you’ve tried so hard to keep bottled up your whole life. 

I see you groping yourself, feeling your modest package between your fingers. I bet you want that to be bigger huh? Fuller? Longer? Thicker? Yeah, I heard about that one time your junk split the front of your briefs because you bought the wrong size before. I guess that’s why they say the only thing more swollen than your ego is your groin.

And you want a “buff bod” to go along with that enhanced package too? Just to further amplify the sex appeal dripping from your very being? That can easily be arranged. Big tits, thick arms, thicker legs. Shoulders that fill nearly every door frame you walk through. The power that radiates from your body is pretty damn infectious huh? No wonder they call your work almost hypnotic.

You’re kind of a little young to be a big, buff porn star though. I mean, especially one with such a huge reputation of making guys bust within minutes of watching your videos. What are you actually? 33? 37? What’s that? You can’t remember? Aww, c’mon you big lug, use your head and think for a minute! 

No, no that head. Well, shit, I guess we can only have one head engorged at a time when you’re prepping for your next shoot. Yeah, you still need to get that scruff trimmed up a bit, your body greased up, and all those clothes off. How much time do you have until your shoot begins? 14 minutes…? 7:26 is an oddly specific time to have a shoot scheduled. Oh, it’s at 7:30? Well then you have 18 minutes to finish getting ready, you dork. 

What’s wrong? Your head feels weird? Don’t worry, dude. That’ll probably pass when you finish your shoot. It’s just the intelligence draining out a bit. I wouldn’t freak. I mean, when your a famous porn star, who needs smarts? Right?

Good luck with your film today! I’m sure you and your scene partner are going to have a ride neither of you will ever forget.

Swapsidite stone

--- Originally posted on 2019-10-17 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

ROMAN’S PERSPECTIVE

“Come on Roman, let’s get to work.”

I kicked off my small shoes and sulkingly walked into Mr. Jefferson’s house. I was still embarrassed that I had scratched his car during a neighborhood soccer game. All the other kids in the neighborhood were playing soccer with me, yet here I was, the only one who had to pay up. Just because I was the one who ran into his car and scraped my cleats across his door shouldn’t mean that I have to make it up to him all alone. I mean, how much can one twelve-year-old do anyway?

At least Mr. Jefferson was a pretty cool dude. He let me off fairly easy, saying that I just had to come over for one day and help around his house. He had moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, buying the entire rambler to himself. I’d always hear my parents talking about him, how they feared he was growing a little too old to stay a bachelor. I’d seen a few women come over to his house and stay the night, but no real signs of commitment. He seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe already in his 40s, the guy was definitely past his prime. Unkempt beard, flabby stomach, and poor choice in clothes, he wasn’t the best looking neighbor on the block. I didn’t know much about fashion, but everyone knows that the dress shirts, jeans, and flip-flops don’t go together. He even had a weird-looking necklace on, something I’d never seen before today.

No matter what I said about his body or clothing, my opinion was rather meaningless. Still waiting for puberty, my short, skinny, and hairless body wasn’t anything special. I wore a bulky football jersey and mesh shorts to make my appearance seem bigger, but I’m pretty sure it just made me look smaller.

Mr. Jefferson led me to his kitchen and showed me a stack of boxes.

“I need you to bring all of these downstairs,” he said in a deep voice, “I don’t have much for you to do today, so I hope you remember that, even though I don’t think you will.” He walked towards the living room and out of my view. What did he mean he didn’t think I’d remember this? Was he trying to make a backhanded comment or was he just being honest?

“It’s all super easy, Roman. I promise!” Mr. Jefferson shouted from the other room, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged it off and grabbed the first of the boxes. It was a little heavy, but I’d be able to manage. I walked around the house slowly, the weight causing my stride to be a little off. Once I had eventually found the staircase, I placed the box down and wiped my brow of sweat. It had become a little more than I had expected. Procrastinating the inevitable, I surveyed the area around me. I noticed Mr. Jefferson sitting in a yellow chair--he was in my view, but luckily I wasn’t in his. He held the necklace up to his face, examining it as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. I swear I saw him whisper a few words into it and saw it glow lightly, but before I could focus any more on it, he began to shift in his seat. I quickly picked up the box and, forgetting its weight, marched down the stairs.

— —

I carefully placed the last box down next to the others and ran up the stairs, my mediocre-sized feet making little noise. I walked into the main area, and, after pushing the brown hairs away from my eyes, found Mr. Jackson still sitting in his chair, smugly reading something on his phone.

“I’m done, Mr. Jackson,” I exclaimed proudly, my soft baritone ringing in the room. He slowly got up from the chair and guided me over to my next project.

Mr. Jackson and I had been pretty close these last few years. Ever since that one day I had stupidly run into his car during a soccer game, I had often come over to help with his other chores. Although he was only in his mid-thirties, the single man still had a lot to do around the house. After a while, he began to pay me for my work, persuading me to come over every summer. He even offered me a raise this year, saying that I should get some extra money before college in a few months. I probably could’ve gotten a better paying job, but my personal connection with Mr. Jackson made it hard to turn down. Luckily, it turned out to work for the best.

Ducking under a short ledge, we walked into a small closet behind the main bathroom.

“Alright, Ronan,” Mr. Jackson began, pointing to rolls of paper towels, “I need you to bring these down into the laundry room. Once you’re done with those, come and find me again; I’ll be in the same place as usual.”

Being that both Mr. Jackson and I were the same height, he didn’t have to grab anything down for me. He walked off as I grabbed the first few rolls, being able to fit a decent amount in between my large palms and toned arms. Over the school year, I made sure to start the healthy habit of working out, hoping to get ahead of the freshman fifteen. I had never really gotten into sports through high school, but I made sure to keep my body through the school gym during my senior year. It took me a while to start working at it, but progress eventually began to show. After only a few months, my body had firmed up with the beginnings of abs and some perceptible biceps and triceps. It wasn’t much, but I was fairly proud of myself. It also made an impression on my boyfriend, which became an extra motivator for me.

I strolled out of the closet and walked back towards the staircase downwards. I saw Mr. Jackson sitting in his chair again, scratching his small beard as he read a small book. I itched my own stubble with my shoulder as I descended, remembering how I had forgotten to shave this morning.

— —

Once I dropped the last load into the laundry room, I guided myself up the stairs, ready for the next assignment.

“Next thing?” I shouted as I strolled into the room where the other man sat.

“Finished so quickly, Robbie?” He quipped, getting up from his chair. He knew I was going to fly through that job in minutes. I barely had to put out any effort; my military experience made it rather simple to carry everything down.

“Got anything harder for me, bro?” I said, itching my buzz cut. I had just returned after four years in the service, which I had come to realize were some of the best years of my life. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree, I decided to draft myself into the military and spend some time overseas. My parents and friends didn’t approve at first, but after a while they realized it was good for me--and by that I mean my physical appearance.

Coming home to see my parents shocked faces a few days ago was one of the funniest moments I had experienced. When they saw the lumbering, muscular man walk out of the airport, they didn’t expect to hear their names coming from his [my] mouth. The military had given me a rather strict routine, providing me with an impressive 6-pack, defined upper arms, and powerful quads.

After spending some time with my family, I decided to visit my old friend next door. We had gone through most of school together, with my neighbor only two years older than me. I hadn’t been able to spend his thirtieth birthday with him a few weeks ago, so I was making it up by helping him move into his new house. He had bought his house from his parents, now owning the very place he grew up in. Assisting my old friend reminded me of when we were younger and I scratched his parents’ car during a game of soccer. I can still vaguely remember all the chores I had to do that day to pay for the damage.

“Since you’re so good at this,” he snarked, “I think I’ll give you something a little more difficult to do.” We both walked to his front door and, after grabbing my average-sized shoes, made our way to the backyard. I had been over here plenty of times, the two of us spending hours here when we were little, but now it looked almost completely different. The old playground and slide were removed, now replaced with a disheveled patch of grass and a modern fire pit. Where once stood the garden was now a brand new shed, and as my neighbor opened it, I realized it was where he stored all of his seasonal gear.

“I’d love it if you could mow the lawn for me,” he began, “it’s never really been my thing.” He smirked arrogantly, knowing I’d do anything he said because I missed his birthday. I pulled out an old lawnmower and pushed it out of the shed, my old friend had already gone back into his house. I adjusted my jersey, which fit perfectly tight on my frame, and pulled at the engine. The motor revved up, purring obnoxiously as it began. Although I was very athletic, mowing was still such a bore. As my long legs glided across the yard, I reminded myself to never miss another one of his birthdays again.

— —

I brushed over the last part of the lawn and let go of the brake, causing the motor to stop. I brought a palm up to my sweaty forehead, pushing the black hair back back on top of my head, revealing my receding hairline. I still can’t believe I agreed to mowing for Jackson--the guy’s no older than 25 afterall. He had the body for it too: we had worked out together before, so I knew he was fairly toned.

Then again, I had no problem at all with the physical exercise. Ever since returning home from the military 12 years ago, I had made sure to keep my body in shape. My muscularity isn’t exactly what it used to be (age does that), but I still take a vast amount of pride in my work. I still have the torso, arms, and legs of a football player, but now with the firm maturity of adulthood. I also still have the libido of a football player; no one told me that your cock gets meatier as time passes.

After pushing the lawnmower back into the shed, I made my way to the front of the house. I opened the door, kicked off my large shoes, and made my way to the living room. There, sitting comfortably in his yellow chair, was Jackson, reading his phone once again, his shirt lying on the floor.

“I was hot,” he replied, seeing my confused face. His voice was smooth, deep and youthful.

“Alright,” I said before yanking off my shirt, revealing a shaved, muscular torso with a black treasure trail. Bulging arms and wet, hairy pits also became visible to the world.

“I’m hot too.” The smell of my sweat and odorous armpits began to flood the room.

“I think I’m done with you for today, Richie,” Jackson muttered before plugging his nose, “but I think you do need a shower.”

“What?” I replied sarcastically, my deep, gravelly voice shaking the room, “You don’t like the smell of this?” I brought my furry underarm up to his face and shoved him playfully. I’ve known him since he was born, so we’re almost as close as we can be. I was already in highschool when he was born, and, being the neighbor, I became his babysitter. As the years flew by, babysitter became friend, workout buddy, and brotherhood, so teasing him with my pungent body odor wasn’t anything new. I knew he didn’t like it because he was straight, but I loved it. Being a homosexual, and a top, made dominating very erotic for me, but Jackson had no idea of my true sexuality. That was why I had to hide my giant boner as he found his way out of my pit.

“Ha!” I guffawed, “Now your going to smell like my pit sweat all day long.”

Jackson glared at me furiously, my beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go take a shower before I kill you,” he said, pointing to the master bathroom.

“Oh, sure,” I retorted before walking off. He could never beat me: I was a man still in his prime. As I stripped myself of my clothes and stepped into the shower, I quietly stroked my dick. Once I got home, I’d have to furiously beat one out like many nights before, probably once again to the thought of Jackson.

— —

JAX’S PERSPECTIVE

I still can’t believe it worked!

With my life lately going to hell, this was my last, desperate choice. Nevertheless, it’s surprising that I even found the necklace in my basement; the people who had lived in the house before must have left it.

When I had found it a few days ago, there was a little note attached describing the name and purpose of the necklace. According to the description, the Swapsidite Stone, the strange chunk at the bottom of the necklace, would switch one of your traits with another person. The trade off however was that whatever you’d swap, the other person would receive double the original bargain. For example, if one person had decided to take a quarter of someone else’s intelligence, the first would receive the quarter bargained for, but the other would dumb down so much that it would seem like the first had taken half. As an added factor, only the person who had the stone one remember their own swap, the rest of reality would change accordingly. That was why I had to consider what I would take and give to someone else.

A few days after I had found the necklace, Roman scratched my car. It was only a coincidence, but I knew it was the perfect time to strike. It took me a while to figure out what I would trade between the two of us, but after a lot of thought I figured out what I desired the most: I wished to redo my past and find a woman to love. I regretted that most of my life I had remained a bachelor, and know was my time.

I decided to trade 20 years of my age to Roman, which meant that he would receive 40 years in total. I felt bad at first, but as I saw him change and reality adjust around us, I began to care less. I had gone from Mr. Jefferson, a 38-year-old loser, to Jax, an 18-year-old stud, in the course of one day, and the best part was that the changes were permanent. I was so excited that as soon as I saw the stone darken to its finish, I stripped down to my underwear and sat back in my chair. I now had the body of a high school jock: thick muscles, blonde haircut, pronounced pouch--it was perfect.

“Hey!” I heard a gruff voice shout from the bathroom, “Where did we put the towels?”

“Back counter!” I yelled back, my voice now a lighter baritone with a more innocent tone. As I sat in my chair, a large, older man walked out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Usually, the sight of a naked man would disgust me, but right now I was completely enthralled. In front of me stood a true adonis.

The man, who was now 52, had the body of an alpha male. Strong forearms, calves, and hips were brought together by incredibly large biceps, triceps, and quadriceps. Not only that, but there were a powerful set of abs hiding beneath two massive pecs, adorned with large nipples. The man’s face showed lines of maturity along the forehead, which were easily visible thanks to his recently-gelled graying hair. The beginnings of a beard also framed his lantern jaw, its shape just as perfect as the ridges of his collarbone. The last thing I noticed was the military academy ring he wore on his left hand, which lay in front of his graying pubes. I assumed there was both a massive dick and large set of balls hiding right underneath.

“What are you looking at?” his husky voice rumbled.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I lied dumbly. Before I could react, he leaned over and snatched the necklace of my neck.

“And what have we got here?” he asked, looking at it oddly.

“Oh, just something I found in the basement,” I replied, giving him half the truth.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it on?” he requested, catching me off guard.

“Sure?” I responded cautiously. He placed the necklace around his neck and smiled smugly.

“This is the Swapsidite Stone, correct?” He already knew the answer, but before I could react he had already muttered something into the stone. The stone began to shine dimly.

“Richard, I can explain, if you’d just-”

“Jax, I know you did something to me. I have no idea what you traded, but at least I know that you did something.”

“But Richard, I-”

“It’s Sir to you.”

“But, Sir-” I froze. Why had I just listened to what he had told me?

“I’ll tell you what I swapped between us, because it won’t matter soon enough.” ~~Richard~~ Sir pulled up a seat from across the room and sat right across from me. He placed the towel aside and let his naked body hang free, his enormous cock standing tall.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since you entered high school. I’ve known you since you were born, I’ve raised you, I’ve made you who you are today, but now I’m going to make you into who I want you to be. You’ve never appreciated what I’ve done for you, so I’ll make it that way.” I had no idea what he was talking about. He was referring to the new reality, while I was still living the old, causing me to have no way to respond.

He took a deep breath before continuing, his tone becoming more serious, “You see, you stupidly left the description card in the bathroom, not even thinking about me finding it. Once I got out of the shower, I finally figured out why you were wearing that ugly necklace. Now it’s my turn to trade and I think you’ll like what it is.”

I tried to get up from the chair, to run away, but I was stuck. It was like I had no control.

“I’m taking half of your dominance. You know what that means right? I’ll become 150% the alpha male.” He leaned over closely, his hot breath on my cheek.

“And you’ll lose all free will. WIth this, I’ll be able to change anything about you that I want, no magic stones needed. Oh, and just to be safe,” he ripped the necklace off his neck and crushed the small stone between his hands, never to be recreated again.

“So I hope you remember that,” he smirked, leaning back, “even though I don’t think you will.”

— —

Something was poking at my hole, and I had now idea what. I slowly opened my eyes, finding a hairy forearm draped over my side. The smell of my dad’s body odor and cum poured from the sheets like a flood, almost as if they had been washed in them. Memories of the pounding dad gave me last night came into my head, causing my miniscule dick to harden. I remember my dad telling me that although it was almost as big as his, it was tiny. I knew he was right--he is always right.

“Morning, Jax,” I hear my dad groan as his dick pushes further inside of me. I moan as he begins to push in and out. This is how mornings usually go: waking up to the smell of old sex, discovering how intelligent and arousing my father is, and then him filling me with his cum. It was always a pleasing cycle.

About ten minutes later, after my insides were filled with his semun. I got up and went to go make breakfast, still in my birthday suit. It only took me minutes to prepare a protein shake and some eggs for my dad. It only took seconds for him to come clomping down the stairs with his abnormally large feet. He always had to specially order his shoes.

Before sitting down, my dad, who was also naked, brought a dirty cup to the tip of his penis and began to piss. A dark, yellow stream dripped in until it was full to the brim.

“Drink up, son,” my dad said as he handed me the cup, “it’s good for you.”

I greedily slurped the steaming liquid down my throat. It was going to be a long day of work ahead, so I had to eat and drink healthy. There were chores to do, dirty laundry to sniff, and fathers to please. I was excited to do it all.

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.

Alpha Orders

--- Originally posted on 2023-08-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Troy?”

“In here!”

Marco walked into the living room, spotting his roommate lounged out on the couch. Although he didn’t look 22, Troy’s youthful figure was almost completely absorbed by whatever game he was playing. His petite body was tense and focused. He looked like one of those hairless cats ready to spring forward.

“Whatcha playin’?” Marco asked.

“It’s some new game Franklin gave me,” Troy replied. Franklin was also a nerdy type, but while Troy just mostly looked the part, Franklin actually played the part. Glasses, suspenders, kind of a pushover. It was strange that someone could fit a stereotype so perfectly.

“It’s called Alpha Orders.”

“Kinda like ‘Simon Says’?” Troy asked, grabbing a snack from the kitchen. Since college had started, he’d put on a considerable amount of weight. He fit the ex-jock bill pretty well. But his girlfriend didn’t mind. In fact, she remarked about liking the pudge that had started filling in his frame. As long as he shaved, she always joked, he wouldn’t look like a bear.

“Kinda…” Troy mumbled. Marco shoved a handful of Goldfish down his throat and looked over his roommate once more. The shrimp sure was invested. His eyes appeared somewhat glazed over.

“Seeing how much you love it, do you think I should try it once you’re finished?”

It took Troy a moment to respond. Suddenly, Troy’s body pumped up. Almost like a heartbeat, but affecting his entire body as if someone had pushed the lever down on a tire pump. Marco blinked, rationalizing that his eyes were playing tricks on him out of hunger. The loose button-up and straight jeans Troy was wearing didn’t look any tighter. Yeah, he just needed some more Goldfish down the hatch. Marco eagerly complied with the prescription he’d given himself.

“Uh…” Troy started slowly. “You should just…go to Franklin. Get another copy.”

“Oh,” Marco replied flatly. It was a little odd that Troy didn’t want to share with him after he was done. It was usually chill when it came to the roommates swapping stuff between each other. But if Marco was being honest he didn’t really mind taking the short trip. He didn’t have any homework or plans today anyway, so going over to Franklin’s wouldn’t be a bother.

“Sure, not a bad idea,” Marco shrugged, tossing a few more crackers in his mouth. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Marco had only been to Franklin’s place once or twice to pick Troy up, but he still knew the way to the nerd’s house. Those two looked oddly alike with their small, thin frames and youthful faces. And by how often those two hung out, heck, they could’ve been secretly dating for all he knew. But Marco remembered wingmanning for Troy once. It hadn’t gone particularly well, but Marco did end up with the chick who’d passed Troy off later that night. Luckily, his roommate had never found about the one nighter.

Marco knocked on the door to Franklin’s place. “Franklin? It’s Marco.”

“Yeah,” a rumbling bass replied back, allowing for Marco to open the door. A blast of sweaty musk spilled outwards, causing Marco to stagger. He blinked, hoping to clear his head a little before he entered. He always forgot how pungent the man was, especially in a concentrated place like the apartment.

Sitting back in a recliner was Mr. F, stripped down to just a pair of tiny running shorts. Marco could tell the man was commando underneath the controller–the guy never did try to hide his monster cock. And why should he? He was a total alpha male after all. Tall, well-built, hairy. Had a voice that shook the room and an attitude that shook people’s knees. Including the guy that was at Mr. F’s massive feet, servicing them diligently as Mr. F played his game. Marco didn’t mind though, knowing Mr. F deserved this kind of specialized treatment.

“Mr. F,” Marco started, pacing across the room.

“What do you want?” Mr. F got right to the point. He didn’t even try looking away from the screen.

“I was wondering if I could borrow a copy of that game you gave Troy.” Marco shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “Alpha Orders.”

“Check the kitchen table.”

Marco did as instructed, finding exactly what he was looking for.

“Get me a beer while you’re at it too,” Mr. F commanded. Marco obeyed, not even thinking twice as he snatched a bottle from the fridge and brought it to the man. He didn’t even regard the boy who was currently beside his own feet.

Marco blinked, noticing his apartment door presented in front of him. Wasn’t he just at Mr. F’s place? The game was still in his hand, and everything else looked in order. Except for his watch, which read a full four hours later than when he had arrived at the other man’s residence. But to get to Mr. F’s was only a ten minute drive? Marco didn’t know what had happened, but he had gotten what he wanted. No point in thinking about it much longer.

Marco opened the front door and strolled in, noticing a peculiar thickness to the air. Although he couldn’t see his roommate, some audio from the living room alerted him that Troy was still there. Marco didn’t even bother kicking off his shoes as he strolled into the kitchen and snatched a granola bar. He figured he’d be bunking down in his own room for a bit so as to not disturb his roommate. Being the bigger (much bigger) half of the pair, Marco knew he’d be more of a nuisance than if Troy had been in the same situation.

“Hey dude, still at it…” Marco droned off. On the couch was a man–a real masculine, macho man. He was taller than Marco, larger than Marco, and exuded a more dominant aura than Marco. He was like a crossover between a bodybuilder and a lumberjack, filling out the blue flannel with his solid pecs, thick shoulders, and hairy arms. The jeans were tight around his lower half too, leading all the way to the massive Size 14 feet propped up on the coffee table. And Marco couldn’t believe the size of this man’s junk. He thought the controller lying on top was vibrating, but after a few moments he realized it was the giant lump underneath that was actually throbbing.

“‘Bout time you got here,” the man grunted. He casually itched the massive beard on his face, which was somehow still not enough to hide the lantern jaw hidden within. “I texted you a while ago.”

Marco blinked. “Oh, sorry Mr. T, I-”

“You shouldn’t make me wait,” Mr. T asserted, his gruff tone making him sound older than his 37 years. “I had to stop my game. I was near the end.”

Marco turned towards the screen, noticing that his roommate was already 80% finished with the main task. Whatever that was.

“Mr. T, I’m sorry,” Marco started. “I was at Mr. F’s and lost track of time.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Mr. T corrected. “Apologize to the lads.”

Marco nodded, getting down on his knees and leaning in towards Mr. T’s feet. Both of them had a pungent funk, but it was more subtle than Mr. F’s. After a quick bow of his head, Marco kissed both of them, expressing his most sincere remorse as to not being there when needed. As the alpha in the apartment, Mr. T naturally needed service regularly. Marco was always happy to oblige, as it was his position on the social ladder. It had nothing to do with sexuality after all. Quite the opposite. Both of the men were ramrod straight, but Mr. T was born to dominate men everywhere but the bedroom.

“Good boy.” Mr. T had yet to look up from his phone once. “Now go off to another room, I will call you when I need you.”

Marco did as he was told, grabbing his things and moving off to his room. He shut the door behind him politely so as to not disturb the other man. He couldn’t believe he screwed up like that, so focused on getting this silly game that he’d been late for his primary role as a good roommate. Marco just hoped it was worth all the hype.

Marco popped the disc into his personal console and kicked back in the couch. He casually readjusted his pouch underneath his sweats, noting the strip of bare skin now visible due to the ballooning of his stomach. He huffed disappointedly, knowing this white shirt was just one of the many that had become victims to his recent…expansion.

“ALPHA ORDERS,” the screen read aggressively. Securing his headphones over his baseball cap, Marco hit the play button. A loading screen appeared next, an arrow creating the same biological gender symbol for male over and over. It would loop in a circle, before jutting off at the last moment to the top right. And then it would start again, and again, and again. Marco just watched on, waiting.

“ALPHA ORDERS…” the screen began, causing Marco to ready his controller. “YOU TO EMBODY AND EXALT THE MULTIFACETED VIRTUES OF MASCULINITY.”

Marco just stared at the screen, not knowing what exactly to do. Was this some kind of puzzle game? Like was he supposed to hit a certain button based off of the prompt given to him? He blinked, unsure of what to do. He already did embody masculinity with his well-muscled frame, the fur underneath his shirt covering it, and his aura of testosterone. And he exalted it alright, making sure to display his masculinity at all times. Although this white shirt wasn’t doing his stacked abs any justice.

A little ping sounded from the screen as he moved onto the second task. Marco didn’t know how the game had registered something, but he couldn’t help if even technology could sense his manliness.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO RESIDE AT THE TOP OF THE HIERARCHY AND ESTABLISH OTHERS’ PLACE BENEATH IT.”

Marco blinked, making sure to fondle his hefty pouch generously. Oh yeah, he knew what kind of power he had. Pussies practically called to him and his 9-incher. Marco was a predator, always on the winning team. Getting serviced whenever he wanted was guaranteed to him. There was a reason people called him “Mr. M”, “Sir”, or even “Master.” He wasn’t toxic; Marco was in-toxic-ating. Any alpha man was. Everyone loves an arrogant douchebag because they knew their place. His dick was begging for attention beneath his sweats, and going commando made it easy for Marco to give it a quick tug.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO FOLLOW PRIMAL INSTINCT–BRAIN IS FOR BETA, MANHOOD IS FOR MAN.”

Marco rubbed his eyes, having to read the stupidity of that last part again. He thought it was stupid, but after blinking he recognized its truth. Yeah he was led by his pussystuffer! What was he supposed to do? Listen to his head? Marco knew that was useless. Learning was for nerds, and school was for…ultra nerds. He wasn’t a loser! His dick led him wherever he needed to go. Gotta get some cash? Find someone to give it to him with his cock. Hungry? Someone will feed him food while he feeds them with his own personal sausage. Need a blowjob? That will come from any chick around no questions asked.

“ALPHA ORDERS…YOU TO PRODUCE AN AURA THAT INSPIRES LOYALTY AND SUBMISSION.”

Marco blinked, taking in a whiff of his own body odor while doing so. He twitched a little, noting a little bit of heat at the end that made his musk all the more enticing. Marco stunk up everywhere he went; deodorants just couldn’t mask his manly aroma. It wasn’t a crime to smell like an ALPHA! Marco’s natural, masculine scent just put those other betas to shame. With damp, bushy pits and Size 13 stompers, it was practically Marco’s destiny to have an ever present, robust malodorous cloud.

Marco’s eyes briefly moved up to the top of the screen, noting his task bar was at 80%. It was right where his roommate had stopped earlier. He hoped that meant he was close. He needed someone to worship him NOW!

“ALPHA ORDERS…” the screen read. Marco blinked, noticing the screen was taking a longer time than usual to display its next command. He blinked again, bringing a hand down to his crotch. Marco couldn’t believe it, blinking again. He began furiously groping himself, bringing himself to the edge as he waited. What was the final order? What was he supposed to do? Marco blinked, feeling a rush spiral down his spine right into his cannon. What did Alpha Order?

“YOU TO BE FULLY HOMOSEXUAL TO COMPLETELY DOMINATE OTHER MEN BY MIND, BODY, AND ACTION.”

Marco’s mouth dropped. Was this game serious? How was he supposed to accomplish this task? It wasn’t like he could just suddenly go gay. Sure, he knew when another man was handsome or good looking, but he had never swung that way. Marco knew other guys servicing him came off as strange sometimes–even his girlfriend had questioned him on it once or twice–but that was just to display his authority. But he never found it erotic! It just wasn’t his thing. Marco blinked, simply not understanding what to do.

Because he was already the gayest guy he knew around. He loved men and boys. There was nothing that made him happier than dumping a dude on the ground and ripping them open. He adored the way they treated his body like the temple it was. The way they worshiped him like the god he was. Men were the best at pleasuring other men, so it only made sense an alpha like him was gay. Frank, Troy, Marco; they all understood the best way to be at the top of the ladder was to put other men in their places beneath them, whether it be sucking on his cock or his toes.

“Yo, Marco!” Troy announced as he entered the room. “I got some boys rolling over here in 10. I will let you claim dibs on which part you want to serv…”

Troy stopped, observing the jockish man staring at the screen in front of him.

Troy blinked, registering his fellow alpha had just finished whatever game he had been playing.

“What did you say?” Marco’s voice had a cocky, sultry air to it.

“I said I got some boys rolling over here in 10.” Troy rolled his eyes. “I will let you claim dibs on one of them if you need to be serviced right now.”

Without moving his eyes off the screen, Marco shut down his console and scratched his ball sack.

“Bro, alphas like us always need to be serviced.”