Making Some Changes

Making Some Changes

By: the-craftsman

The cafe had seen a lot of better days, times when, the boss admitted, that it was a great place for college jocks to hang out and chill, but throughout the years it became “sophisticated”, a place where boring people came, ordered their drinks and left, leaving the cafe a place for dwelling hipsters, like Andrew and Rob here. The two of them sat down, Andrew barefoot not minding as he was complaining to Rob about the useless “jocks” on campus, needless to say things needed to change. Rob and Andrew were once again sat on a casual day, most of the people by now were leaving which was odd for the afternoon, and they swore they saw the appearance of more jocks in the cafe then they were on campus, which of course made it all the better when they complained.

“God what are with the meatheads today,” chuckled Andrew, beginning to sip into his chai tea (because of course he would be the type of person to order chai tea at a cafe), his feet still barefoot as he began scratching at his beard, feeling like it was slightly rougher against the skin, even skinnier he supposed. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe they put steroids in the coffee here,” smirked Rob as he drank his own chai tea, feeling a bit of a tangy taste causing him to smack his lips, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat. “From the taste of it, sounds like some of it slipped into our tea.” Rob joked, both him and Andrew laughing, neither noticing that their laughs had become deeper, almost more full as they were the only ones in the cafe by this point, that was, beside their new manager who was watching them earnestly as he wiped the tables. 

“God yeah, man this tastes awful,” grimaced Andrew, noticing his grip on the cup had become weaker, like his hands were feeling numb and he swore the cup was smaller than before. “I’ll go see if we can get a replacement or something.” Rob nodded, shifting in his seat as a sweat was breaking out on his brow, hoping Andrew didn’t notice. Andrew had walked up to the manager, still barefoot, not minding showing off his body now especially when there was nobody left in the cafe besides him and Rob, “Excuse me, sir, is it okay if we can get a replacement please, these just taste a bit…” The manager ignored him, though Andrew swore he could see a smirk. He was horrified as he dropped both the cups, glancing at his hands as he saw tanned skin began to appear, the tone travelling down his fingers which elongated.

“Andrew!” Rob was behind him, his own hands doing the same. Before the two could even begin to run away, they both looked down, watching their feet expand, growing to be similar footsize as Rob’s own pair of feet broke through his shoes, the toes popping out of the seams as the leather all but buckled upon his feet, the musky odour that began to emanate from them causing him to stifle a deep moan, as his feet all seemed to move on their own, instead of running away like he wanted them to, they were getting closer to Andrew. Andrew witnessed the change, unable to stop smelling his own musk that even began to make his cock erect. 

“R-Rob, we need to, to get out of here…” Andrew groaned, feeling his now larger and toned hands began to caress Rob’s body, slowly tearing off his clothes as Rob’s hands did the same to him. Both their hands exploring one another’s bodies, exploring each other as they began groaning and moaning together. Andrew felt Rob’s torso begin to creak, his own fingers seemed to almost create the crevices that defined themselves in Rob’s belly as his body became thinner, his shirt falling away as pectorals began to jut out, and Andrew felt Rob doing the same to his own, Rob’s fingers coming down to create the perfect navel and defined abs for himself. “R-Rob…” Andrew moaned before he felt Rob’s lips on his own, the two of them unable to stop themselves as their cocks pressed up against one another. Andrew’s fingers traced on Rob’s shoulder blades watching as a tattoo began to form. 

It was then when they felt their bulges expand, their cock elongating and lengthening against one another as their pants seemed to fall apart, Rob’s hands came to grasp Andrew’s ass and he suddenly felt his own inflate, his ass thickening and becoming somewhat wider as if the fingertips and hands that brushed it were crafting it, shaping it into the perfect bubble butt as Andrew did the same to Rob. They both glanced down as new underwear appeared, tightly fitting around their cock and ass, outlining themselves. Andrew even teased Rob, his fingers diving into the crevice of his new large ass, slapping it slightly and smiling as he did so, Rob yelped and groaned at the spanking and the fingers that continually teased diving into his ass to rub against his prostate, almost arching his back as he wanted more. Yet instead both their hands continued to explore each other’s cocks, fingers caressing the very head and the tip, rubbing against them to hear the other groan just that much more louder.

“You like that bro?” smirked Andrew as his finger came and playfully caressed the throbbing underside of Rob’s cock, his fingers making Rob tingle as he pre-cum was beginning to jut out, staining their tattered pants as Rob began to hump and thrust into Andrew’s hand.

“Andrew b-bro…I need…need more…” Rob continued to hump at Andrew faster, wanting more, hoping his collea- his bro could shove his cock down his ass, but with a seductive wink from Andrew, Rob knew that was later. 

They moved even closer, feeling both their legs almost tangle as they brushed against one another, becoming thinner, much more muscular as their calves defined themselves, their bulges still rubbing against each other as they were leaking. Andrew kissed Rob once again, unable to stop as his mind was altering, his groaning and moaning becoming much more apparent as the tatters of their old ‘nerdy’ clothing disappeared, their rough beards were gone as their jaws became chiselled, as their hands ran through each other’s hairs, their locks were gone, instead their hair was straightened, each other’s fingers almost combing through and styling it on their own. 

The musk was far too much, their feet both being confined to sandals as the two sniffed deeply, their fingers were clutching and grasping at each other’s cocks through their new underwear, rubbing the very head with their palm as Rob looked up at Andrew, biting his lip at the man’s blonde hair as he stared at them with brown eyes. 

“B-Bro…I’m gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me bro? Do it.” And with that, Rob couldn’t stop himself as he felt Andrew’s fingertips pull at his cock one last time before he stained his underwear with heaps of cum, upon seeing this Rob quickly did the same to Andrew, only giving him barely two strokes before Andrew did the same, the two of them cumming and leaning into each other’s touch, reality bending around them as their old lives were forgotten, lost upon them, no longer the hipsters that they were but the dumb bro jocks they once resented, once were jealous of, and that they now once were. 

By the time Andrew and Rob came back to be, they were both standing up, the manager facing them as he gave them their new drinks.

“Yeah bro, don’t give us any of that chai tea shit again, I’m telling you we don’t drink that,” Rob noted as the manager smiled, giving his most sincere apology as he waved goodbye to the two new jocks, the both of them laughing and flexing in their new bodies as they left the cafe. Needless to say they weren’t going to be lingering around any longer, they had frat parties and other “cool shit” to be doing.

Can u do like one with a dorky geek being forced against his will to be turned into a jock and become like the star quarterback for the team like me

“You see, the problem with modern society is that, suddenly, all the emphasis has shifted from physicality and physical endeavours to cerebral enterprises and the furtherance of technology.  Societally speaking, that can only lead to a slow downfall of everything we, the human race, have ever built.  We have to get back to basics!”  On each word of the last sentence, the man banged the meat of his palm on the desk in front of him, emphasizing each point.  His gaze, however, never wavered from the array of students sitting in front of him.  His eyes swept the room, as if daring anyone to disagree with him.  He held the menace in his teeth, playing the silence out, and suddenly relaxed, shifting entirely into another mode, that of easy-going, affable Coach.  “But the pendulum swings, boys, the pendulum always swings.  One extreme to the other, and boy, when it comes,” he chuckled, swaying his head and clicking his tongue, “it’s gonna come hard.” 

The bell sang its saw-song through the air, jarring everyone from their respective trances.  Matthew snorted, turning to his friend.  “Are you kidding me?  One logical fallacy after another.  And that pseudo-social science he was spouting?  Did you even hear that?  Why did we even have him in class today?  What was that supposed to teach us?”

Sanjay shook his head.  “Which one do you want me to answer first?”

“Any.  None.  It doesn’t matter.  Just doesn’t make any sense.  Why have the coach of the football team lecture us on how intelligence and critical thought and technological know-how is actually, you know, in disguise, the downfall of human civilization!  Oh, yeah, let’s prize barbarity and tout physical achievement as opposed to …”

Honestly, Sanjay tuned him out.  Sure, Matthew was his friend.  Yeah, he was smart.  Probably one of the smartest kids in the school, but he had a demanding, needy persona that was just sometimes hard to bear.  He could be arrogant, almost preening, constantly displaying his prodigious vocabulary and scorning anyone who didn’t reach his impossible standards.  Still, better to have him on your side, Sanjay reasoned, than not.

“So, yeah.”  Matthew tossed his hair back from his eyes.  He’d been letting it grow long, some rebellion thing.  “Wanna watch foreign films tonight?”

“Uh,” God, again?  He had a passion for subtitles that bordered on the pathological.  Sometimes, he’d even quote the French when the appropriate time arrived.  “I can’t, tonight.  Family … thing.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Well, a toût a l’heure, mon ami!”

“Seeya,” Sanjay moved off into the hallway throng.  “Weirdo.”

o

The faint, overlapping sound of calls and cries, short and shouted, that echoed from the field.  Some grunting.  Matthew hated that, in order to walk home, he had to follow the small sidewalk around the back side of the school and around a fairly large chunk of the football field.  He usually had his earbuds in, and today was no exception, with Einstürzende Neubaten playing (and only because of the name) in his ears.  He tapped his hands idly against his thighs as he walked, tapping out a badly-timed beat to the song he was listening to.  His eyes he kept firmly fixed ahead.  He refused to look at the game in progress, or the training, or whatever.  Can’t deny that his eyes did flick to the left, but he didn’t turn his head, so that doesn’t count.  Or so he reasoned.

Out of all the sports, Matthew hated football the worst.  He could make concessions for “real” football, or soccer, if he was pressed, but American football, the NFL, all of it, just left a bad taste in his mouth.  Stupid celebrity body-glorifying inane banal moronic and, on one occasion, mentally retarded, were all words that came out of his mouth whenever confronted with the topic.  Team sports on a whole repelled him: the whole notion of conforming to a set, of being reduced to a function, caused him to shiver way down deep inside his skinny body.  He was furiously proud of his body, liked that he could slip in and out of places unnoticed.  He wore mostly blacks and grays for the same reason.

Of course, he was bullied.  What kid isn’t?  Matthew is no idiot.  He’s read books, seen movies, he knows.  The bully does it because the bully feels like he’s inferior in some way, is over-compensating.  Yeah, he knows the “why,” but the “what” keeps happening.  Physical threats.  He’s been tripped, kicked, spat at.  He does not let himself break to the bullies.  He knows that he is superior to them, and one day, they’ll be pumping his gas.  The knowledge of this certain future is enough to glaze and harden the sneer on his face whenever he runs into them.  

He looked up just in time, swerving to miss the outstretched hands of one of his classmates.  He didn’t even have time to notice which one it was.  All he saw was a wide grin and the palms of the hands, and the world yawed above him, sky to treetops to treetrunks to dead leaves on the ground, and he was falling, poorly, ungainly and akimbo, ass over teakettle, and rolling, crashing through various underbrush, skinning his palms on ill-placed rocks, the world became a splatter of color on a palette, and then turned to gray fuzz as he came to a halt.

“Whoa, kid, kid, holy fucking …”  Someone had rushed to his side, but Matthew couldn’t tell who it was.  His eyes were unfocused, his ears were slamming loud carillons of hiss and bells, he throbbed, nearly all over.  He thought, well, nothing’s broken, and remembered relief.  He cracked his mouth and a strange noise flopped out, like a broken bassoon.  “Are you OK?  Did you just fall?”

“Stupid … question,” Matthew said, and passed out.

o

He woke up at home.  In his own bed.  His posters on the wall, his strange Russian propaganda posters, his vintage movie posters.  He still throbs all over.  That part wasn’t a dream.  This is, however, that weird murky space between waking up and really waking up.  Surfacing, sort of, through the shallows.  He remembered … falling.  He remembered … being pushed!  His head is like an anvil factory.  Jabs of clanging pain twinned to his heartbeat.  He groaned, and ground his hand, hard, into his left eye.  The pain did not abate.  He rolled over, the sheets followed, and he untangled himself, with some amount of confusion.  There was a slightly heavy … slightly wet smell in the air, almost as if someone drenched in cologne had been there recently.  It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, Matthew thought murkily, then shook his head violently.  No!  It was awful!  It smelled like a locker room.  How the fuck did he get home?  He reached for his phone, which was where he always kept it, on the night stand next to his bed.  He thumbed it open.  No missed calls.  No new text messages.  The time was 10:30pm., on whatever day.  He idly thought he might have amnesia.  It was dark, and he could hear the crickets sawing feverishly away outside his window.  He felt a stab of hunger, and slowly swung his legs out of bed. 

The anodyne glow of the big-screen television was near-blinding as Matthew limped down the stairs.  Weird, he thought.  No one in this house is usually awake at this hour.  He moved closer to inspect.  No one on the couch.  Not a sign that anyone had been there, actually.  It was all very Roanoke.  He half-expected to find “CROATOAN” carved into the coffee table.  It gave him a little, dull chill.  As he moved closer, the sound of the television grew louder, and the picture seemed to clear, resolving from white noise to figures, moving back and forth on the screen.  The white noise resolved into the sound of … an audience?  Matthew squinted at the screen, came even closer, outstretched a finger to prod at its surface, delicately.  Then he backed up, shaking his head, chortling.  “C’mon,” he said out loud, the sound of his voice flat in the living room.  “Don’t be a moron.” 

It was a game on the television.  A football game.  NFL, from the looks of it.  Uniforms … orange and white and orange and black.  The, uh … Broncos and the Browns.  Right.  That’s a lot of orange.  I didn’t even know we got this channel.  What channel?  Oh, ESPN, right.  The football’s pretty fucking elusive, doesn’t seem like anyone can get a handle on - oh, there we go.  That guy’s running.  He’s got the ball.  Feels like something’s going to happen.  Oh, hey, this guy’s coming out of the, no, no, he’s gonna make it he’s - oh.  Nope.  That guy jumped on top of him and he wasn’t close to the end zone.

Matthew felt a strange sense of disappointment, almost deflation.  He cracked his neck to one side and frowned a little.  The players were reassembling.  Some of them look kinda goofy.  The uniforms are kinda cool.  I mean, sorta.  It’s like armor, or something.  Representing … uh, like, houses, or … hey, they’re playing again. 

He found his muscles tightening, his hands forming into fists, as the football was snapped into play.  His eyes watched it as it described its arc over the field, soaring, spiralling, toward the eager and outstretched hands of – and

“INTERCEPTION!” 

Matthew snapped back to himself with all the force of a comet smashing into Siberia.  He blinked, blinked again, and then shook his head.  Was that something rattling around up there?  Jesus, he must’ve hit hard.  He should get some more sleep.  Was he just watching football? 

And … was there a moment there, just a moment, where he … kinda enjoyed it?

o

“Day 2,” Sanjay mimed a gun at his temple, lazing back in his chair.  The windows were open, and a light breeze sashayed in.  “Seriously, though?  Mandated physical education in the form of indoctrination?  Not sure that’s what they had in mind, but … hey, it’s gettin me out of class, right?”

“Yeah,” Matthew mumbled.  He was still kind of out of it, bruised up and scraped pretty badly, but with no lasting injuries.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I must’ve really rattled my brains in that fall.  Shit…”  He dropped his pencil and fumbled around under the desk for it.  “I’ve been so clumsy, today, too…”

“Maybe you got a concussion or something, man.  You should check in with the nurse.”

“Naw, it’s … I slept, last night, so, I don’t think it’s a, uh, you know.  That.  Man, this headache.  I keep taking all this aspirin.”  He shook out a pill from a plain white bottle.  “Don’t know if it’s actually helping, or what.”

Sanjay cocked his head at his friend and shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  Your funeral.  And I wouldn’t take so much advil, man.  Five, at the most.”

The door to the room slammed shut, and the coach walked in.  He never wore street clothes, or, if he did, his street clothes were the same as his regular clothes: basketball shorts and t-shirt, sneakers and socks.  He was a younger man, probably in his early 30s, with a corded, muscular body and a commanding presence lightened only by an aloof affability.  “Welcome back,” he said, and the room immediately quieted.  His eyes swept the room again, much in the same manner as before, as if surveying a course of meats.  “I - “ he stopped as his eyes fell on Matthew.  “Matt,” he said.  “Hope you’re feeling better.“

“It’s Matthew,” he said clearly.  “And yeah, I’m fine.  No thanks to the guy who shoved me.  And I will find out who that is,” he added venomously.  “And when I do, you can be sure I’ll be taking it to the proper author - uh - “

The coach seemed expectant, then shook his head and continued.  “Well, recent drama aside.  We’re here today to talk about the benefits of fitness, and how being physically fit is important in all ways, and, in some ways, how it is the most important.  Your brain won’t function if your body isn’t fed, right?  And we feed our bodies by giving it nutrition and exercising it just like we would a machine.  Sometimes … those machines need a tune-up.  I bet most of you here need a tune-up or two.”

“Not me, Coach!’  Brody piped up.  Matthew’s eyes skated over to him.  He was the QB.  He was just over six-foot and weighed twice what Matthew did.  He sat in his desk and possessed it of a gawky adolescent superiority.  His voice was deep and his face was shadowed around 5 o’clock.  “I’m runnin’ on all cylinders.”  He lifted his arms and flexed.  Most of the class groaned, some of the girls looked sideways, and a paper ball or two was tossed.

“Yeah, well, simmer down there, Bro.  It is true, Brody is at his peak physical form for his body type and his age.  That’s something you can all aspire to.”

Matthew felt dizzy.  The top of his scalp itched.  His throat itched, felt swollen.  He glanced at the back of his hand.  He watched it detachedly as it rose of its own accord, sleepily at first, then erect as a flagpole, fingers straight, unmoving.  “Yes, uh, Matthew?”

His words sounded, to his own ears, as if they had been dredged out of him.  “How do we .. uh, do that?”

The coach stared at him for a minute, inscrutably.  “Good question, Matt.”  Matthew let the name go, almost like a bullet in slow motion past his ear, creating auditory ripples in through his ear and passing through his brain - “Well, we can work out, we can play a sport and join a team - shameless plug, football team still needs some good bodies, signup sheet’s outside the door - but there’s lots of different ways to achieve your physical potential.

“You really don’t look so good,” Sanjay commented.  “And what was that all about?”

“Nothin,” Matthew said.  He felt drunk.  “I, uh, it’s fine.” 

The class continued, and Matthew sat there, silently, eyes fixed ahead.  The buzz and pound in his head continued.  It was almost as if the dream he’d had about watching football on the television was still playing, projected on the inside wall of his skull, and he was hearing it from far away.

o

The bell announced in its shrill, strident way, the end of class.  Matthew filed out with the rest, past the coach as he was erasing the whiteboard.  “Matt,” he heard, and he stopped.  “I just wanted to … are you OK?”

“Yeah,” he heard himself say.  “I’m good.”

“Well, you had a nasty spill.  You said someone pushed you.  You hit your head and you scraped yourself up, but nothing was broken.  We used your phone and called your roommate and they came and picked you up.”

“Oh,” Matthew said.  “It’s Matthew, you know.”

“What?”

“You keep, uh, callin me Matt.”

“Well, I guess it’s just easier.  Just a nickname.  What’s so wrong with Matt?”

“It’s, uh.  It’s not my, uh.  Yeah.  Whatever.  Look, I - “

“Want to sign up for the football team.”

“… Huh?”

“I’m joking.  What’s up?”

“I, that question I asked.  Maybe I should, you know.  Work out.  So I don’t, you know, ‘fall,’ anymore.”

“Hey, Matt, that’s a great idea!  Not to mention it’ll really help build up your confidence.  Who couldn’t use some of that, huh?”

“Right,” he agreed, a little uncertain why.  A weird molten surge of … something, was starting to heat up in his stomach.  “Yeah.”

The coach dropped his big hand on Matthew’s shoulder and grinned.  “I’m so glad you want to do this, Matt.  I really think it’ll do you wonders.  How about I take you down to the gym for your free period and show you the ropes?”

“My - how did you know I have a, next?  I didn’t -”

“I get all your schedules.  C’mon, I’ll show you and I promise, you won’t be able to stop once you start.  It really is addicting.”

“Yeah, right,” Matthew mumbled, but was already being ushered to follow by the coach’s arm and hand.  Before he knew it, they were walking down the hallway, out through into the dazzling sunlight, and then back inside via two metal doors with arrowslit-like windows, metal wiring.  The gym.  The echoes began almost immediately.  Basketball sneakers against the floor with their skreek skreeking, rubber on lacquer.  The clang and repeated thud of weights against racks.  A pumping soundtrack, fading in and out. 

“You’ll be right at home,” the coach said.  “Trust me.”

I doubt it, thought Matthew, but Matt’s face was grinning, and Matt’s mouth was saying, “Awesome, Coach.”

o

“So, how’s the recruiting stage going?”

“Great.  Aspirin was a great way to hide it.  No one knows.”

“And after a minor, accidental, spill, pain relief … is somewhat necessary, wouldn’t you say?”

“Brody is a good QB.  He’ll do whatever I tell him to, even if it does include a little … hooliganism. ”

“How about your white whale?”

“Oh, Matt’s doing amazing.  You know, you wouldn’t believe it, but the kid’s twice his size.  We’ll have him on the football team for this coming season, and he’s gonna make a hell of a QB after Brody graduates.  Isn’t even a trace left of who he was.”

“We want to thank you for allowing us to test our new drug out on your student body, as it were, Coach.”

“Well, I understand the need for a return to the fundamentals of society.  If that comes at the expense of some brain cells, well, so be it.”

“Quite right.  Excellent work.  I assume you’ll be having another winning season?”

“Year after year.  Year after year.”

CALL ME RICK

I had no idea how quickly Richard would take to the mind control. Not to mention how completely invested he was in this new persona.

Richard had been dating my sister for a year or so now. He was a good guy, a model citizen if you will. He was a nice, friendly happy go lucky sort of guy. Not to mention he was very handsome, but was very modest about it. We didn’t talk much but when we did he was always super friendly and tried to get to know me as best as he could. He knew I was gay and had no problem with it, he wasn’t weirded out like some of my sisters ex boyfriends had been. Honestly he was a really stand up guy. The problem was me. I have a serious problem. It’s kind of a strange fetish that I’m into and have always wanted to try on Richard.

Ever since high school I’ve found myself interested in hypnosis. I really enjoy watching a person, preferably and attractive man, go completely under then have their mind and personality altered. The more drastic the alteration usually the more arouse I get. This was why Richard would be the perfect subject, and I think I just found the perfect time for it.

I came to him and my sister about a problem I had. I needed to haul some stuff over from a friends house but they lived about 2 hours away and I needed a truck to do so. Richard offered right away to use his truck, which I knew he would. The. He even offered to come with me as kind of a bonding trip. This was exactly what I wanted to hear I graciously accepted the offer and the next morning we were on our way, just the two of us on the open road.

About an hour of the ways out, I finally brought up the subject of hypnosis. I asked if he’d ever been hypnotized and Richard kind of just laughed. He assumed hypnosis was just a bunch of tricks on tv, and that it couldn’t possibly work. I explained to him how interested I was in the subject, and he suddenly changed his tune. I guess he really wanted us to get along so he even offered if I’d like to try it on him. Everything was going so smoothly. I asked him to pull over so I could drive while I induct him into the trance. I didn’t want him falling asleep behind the wheel. I told him to watch the road as I slowly pulled him deep under control. He had been counting backwards from 20, but he barely made it to 8 before falling completely under. That’s when I started taking apart his personality and then piecing things back together, but piecing them the way I wanted.

I knew exactly what persona I wanted I give Richard the moment I met the guy. I wanted Richard to be the most Texan, masculine, hickish, cowboy he could be. As stereotypically sexy as I wanted. I started manipulating his speech first, making him think of westerns, and how the cowboys he has seen on tv would speak. Giving him a southern drawl. Then his attitude, I wanted him to feel like a proud Texan baron and raised all american cowboy. His ignorant, and rude attitude to be prominent, and his masculinity to be very important to him. I told him he would ease up on shaving, to avoid that clean shaven look he normally wore. I gave him love for hard work, nicotine, alcohol, and last but most importantly me. See, the thing about my hypnosis is that in the end I like to give my subjects an insatiable list for me. Because once they have changed there personality this much, all I want to do is fuck there manipulated brains out.

I pulled out a hat that I snuck into the glove department just for this occasion. I placed it on Richards head and told him that whenever he wore that hat he would become the person that I had been hypnotizing him to become.

He groggily nodded, “Ahuh, becomes that person.. When wearing hat..”

Unfortunately, the induction took longer then I thought and we were almost back home. I didn’t want to see this new persona of his until after he was ready, I gave him a shopping list of things he needed to discretely buy and then we would meet back up in two weeks time. That he would make an excuse to go with me somewhere so my sister wouldn’t get suspicious. He gave me the same groggy nodding as before but I’ve hypnotized enough people to know that I ha gotten through to him, I was getting so excited about this new personality I could barely stand it.

Two weeks of waiting were agony but I knew it would be worth it. I hadn’t seen Richard since then so I wasn’t positive if he’d done what I’d asked or not, but then I got a call from my sister. She told me that Richard was ready to go whenever I was and that I had offered to help him haul some cinderblocks to the dump since he helped me last week, she thanked me for being so helpful and was glad we were getting along so well. She had no idea.

I showed up at the house and when I saw him I could already see he had accomplished one of the things if asked him to do which was his facial hair had grown in. He had a duffle bad in hand with what I assumed was the items I asked him to get on my list. We took off in Richards truck. Richard still acting like himself completely unaware that he was doing all this under hypnosis I had placed on him. I was currently wearing the hat that I had basically infused what would be Richards new personality with. I waited until we were a bit a ways before I started complaining about my hat and how it didn’t fit me. Then I suggested he try it on, at first he just smiled and kindly refused. But I was so persistent and nagging about it, that he finally gave in. He placed the cap on his head and then suddenly his whole body stiffened and the car jeered a little at the sudden change in person. He blinked a few times then pulled the truck over.

“Something wrong Richard?” I asked feigning ignorance.

He looked over at me, his for head wrinkled in a confuse look that wasn’t like Richards normal happy face “You’re goddamn right there is, what kinda pansy ass shit m'I wearin?” He said looking down in disgust at his buttoned down collared polo and khakis.

“Beats me, here why don’t you try these on while I make a quick phone call,” I said handing him the duffle bag dull of the clothes if told Richard to buy. I stepped out of the truck and walked away to call my sister, and tell her that it might be well because were having car troubles. But I told her we had it under control but we might not make it back until late. I didn’t want her getting suspicious while I had my fun.

When I walked back Richard was sitting on the back of the truck completely decked out in his new Southern cowboy attire I made him buy, and was even smoking one of the cigarettes he had packed as well. He looked damn hot I could feel the blood rushing to my cock just looking at him. He took a drag blew out another stream of smoke before noticing me, then spit on the ground before waving me over.

“Hey Richard, feeling more comfortable in those clothes I hope.”

He responded by flipping me off while taking another drag, “Aye fuck you, call me Richard. What kinda bitch name is Richard?”

I laughed a little at how quickly he had become so appalled by his old life that even his name wasn’t manly enough for him anymore.

“My bad Rick. I forgot to mention I am loving the new tattoo.” I said just noticing the tattoo he now had on his right bicep that was visible now thanks to his sleeveless Texan shirt. His eyes glanced down to his new ink and then he smirked at me while flexing his bicep.

“Goddamn right,” he said continuing to flex and show off his new ink, “Got this innkeeper done about a week ago, Karen got all pissed off about when she first saw. She’ll quit her bitching soon though, I think she secretly likes it anyway.”

“I know I do.” I said a little flirtatious this time. I was ready to see how much of this hypnosis had gone through.

His smirk widened as he patted the seat next to him, “C'mere, why don’t ya take a load off?” He said blowing more smoke out of the corner of his mouth. I eagerly did as I was told and plopped down next to him.

“Ya know Karen told me you’re queer.” Was his opening sentence. I just nodded in agreement.

“At first that shit creeped me out, but now I get the feelin like I could get into it.” Then Rick grabbed my my hand guided it onto his crotch and had me grasp his junk through his tight jeans.

I looked over at Rick, and our eyes met. I could still see underneath this Country man bravado he’d been hypnotized to have, he was feeling shy and embarrassed at what he was about to do. He put his cigarette out on one of the cinderblocks then leaned in kissing me roughly.

“Ya better not say shit to your sister about this.” He threatened, but I took him by the back of his head and pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“Don’t worry cowboy, it’ll be our little secret.” I said as I pulled Ricks shirt up over his head admiring his muscles as he flexed and showed them off for me. He unbuckled his pants and then I reached down to pull off one of his board. Slowly removing them one by one and massaging his feet with my tongue, tasting his sweat as Rick started moaning and pulling off his pants completely, then as he stood there butt naked his picked me up carrying me. As I felt myself up against his naked buff torso, my hard cock scraping against his body. He lay me down across the seats in his truck and straddled me.

“Imma ride you’re ass so hard right now, you’re gonna be hollering something fierce.” He said in his sexy southern drawl. As he burrowed his cock deep inside of me, I moaned and shouted only to be muffled by Ricks mouth as he kissed me shutting me up and filling me with more pleasure. After Rick finally released the last of his juices inside of me he hovered over me his sweat trickling down from his muscles body. He wiped some sweat from his brow then pulled out another cigarette lighting it up and he pulled on his jeans and buckled his belt.

The rest of out trip was fun too, Rick pretty much did all the work throwing out the blocks of cinder, and I kind of just admired his strong body going to work. He knew I was watching too, because every once in awhile he would give me a really cocky smirk and a wink. Then on the ride back he had me give him a blow job while he blasted his country music to drown out the sound of his moans and shouts.

We made it home late that night, I gave Rick one more kiss before saying good by then I took off his hat and the look of confusion on Richards face was priceless, he looked down at his clothes in horror then looked at me his eyes wide and crazy.

“Something wrong Richard?” I asked feigning ignorance.

“I just.. How did I get here. And what am I wearing?” He breathed I to his hand took a whiff, “Have I been smoking?”

I laughed, “Woah Richard, buddy, I told you not too drink that much.”

His eyes got bigger, “I’ve been drinking? But.. I don’t even remember..”

“All day actually. I guess that’s why the call it black out drunk. You should probably go home and get some rest.” I suggested.

“Oh man.. Yeah you’re probably right.. Oh no, Karen! She’s going to be furious when she finds out be been drinking all night, first my tattoo and now this! She is going to kill me!”

I smiled at him reassuringly, “Don’t worry about it Rick, it’ll be our little secret.”

What the Athletic Department Needs

Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested

Tony Reardon anxiously paced back and forth inside of the coach’s office. It was strangely large and well-decorated, looking similar to something he expected from a therapist. One large loveseat, a coffee table, and a chair with an extra wide cushion were the only items in the room. There were also multiple pictures of championship victories, a few caps and balls hanging as mementos, an array of cabinets, and large windows overlooking the university. He wished literally anyone was here with him. His girlfriend, his advisor, even his mother! But he was completely alone, unprepared to face what he assumed was going to be the coach’s wrath.

As a lead writer for the university’s newspaper, Tony should’ve known better than to expose the article. He’d been in the business for almost four years now through high school and into college, so he could admit it was rather idiotic of him to let his segment leak. He had written an editorial about the recent declines in the university’s academic departments and its odd correlations with the climbing numbers in athletic enrollment. Somehow, while the average grades had been plummeting, the football, soccer, basketball, baseball, and hockey records had been exploding, with a new star player added to each team every week. Not only that, but the swimming team had expanded for the first time in 20 years, and there were now four golf teams instead of two. Somehow, all these events had to be connected with the academic slump, and that’s what Tony’s article was going to explore.

For the next month’s publication, he began researching the link between the fall of academia and the rise of physical activities. The chase had led him through a plethora of unexplained student disappearances, skyrocketing mid-semester registrations, and a barely-quantifiable amount of seemingly illegal activity. The most prominent example had been the creation of some cologne called “Heir,” a seemingly simple concoction invented by the new Assistant Football Coach Mark Richardson. Ever since the beginning of the rises and declines, there had been a huge amount of the chemical shipped to the university almost every day. Tony knew that this cologne had to be the answer he was looking for, but before he had a chance to investigate further, his article had been exposed to the faculty, including the head of the Athletic Department: Coach Sorenson.

And this was why Tony was cowering slightly as he waited for the coach to enter. What would he do to Tony, or with Tony? He had definitely gotten himself in way too deep, but there was no way he could escape now. Tony took a long breath and tried desperately to cool himself down. There was no way the coach would be able to harm him in any way. Tony was only a sophomore, not even 20. He was going to be fine, and he just had to keep telling himself that. He just had to get through this and then he’d be on his way.

Suddenly, the door from behind him opened. Tony quickly stood at full attention, almost as rigid as a soldier.

“Stand down,” Coach Sorenson chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”

Tony followed his instructions, nervously twitching as sat down on the white couch across from the coach’s massive chair. His eyes quivered as the giant of a man strolled past him. Tony assumed the coach had to be almost 6’5 (at least a foot taller than him) and even though he looked to be in his forties, he had to be in better shape than any other man above 25. Bulging biceps and triceps, juicy quads, and thick calves were all exposed as they strained the light blue compression shirt and tight, white mesh shorts. Not only that, but the two massive white Nike sneakers did nothing to hide the giant feet as they stomped their way around the other side of the table. Tony also unhappily noticed a massive cock swinging back and forth between the coach’s legs like a pendulum trying to break out.

As the coach sat down, Tony looked over his own body in dread. He’d dressed a little more professional for the situation as he was talking with the head of the Athletic Department. His plaid button-up was fairly flat, showcasing his lack of anything in his torso region. His khakis gave a similar performance as they loosely held onto his legs. His briefs hid any existence of his dick, which was currently sitting at about 3 inches soft. Barely tapping his small shoes quickly against the tile floor, Tony sunk a little further into the loveseat. His butt barely covered half a cushion as he brought his legs together, hoping to stop the shaking.

“To get right to business,” Coach Sorenson’s deep, melodic voice began. “We both know why you’re here in my office.”

“I’m so sorry!” Tony exclaimed, his tenor voice sounding wimpy and childish. “I had no intention of harming the Athletic Department’s reputation in any way at all. I swear, the article is just an editorial–opinions, not fact.”

“I understand.” Coach Sorenson leaned back into his chair and crossed his meaty arms. He pushed his legs out until they were far apart, the man-spreading showcasing who was in charge in the room. He seemed to be dwelling over a thought in his head.

“I promise, it will never be published if that is what you’d like.” Tony gulped at his own proposal, upset at what he was sacrificing.

“No, no,” Coach Sorenson started. “The article can still be salvaged.”

“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.

“Well of course,” Coach Sorenson chuckled again, only this time it was a little more menacing. “But if you want to get this thing published, you’ll want both sides of the story.”

Tony pondered the idea for a moment. “What does that entail?”

“I know you’re a smart boy, Tony.” The emphasis on “boy” made it seem more like an insult. “I’ve seen your transcripts. Quite impressive really.”

“Thank you?” Tony was lost, not finding the point.

“You should know that the greatest editorials present sources from both sides. If you want to publish this article, you’re going to have someone in the Athletic Department. I would be willing to fill that responsibility.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment; Coach Sorenson waiting for Tony to take the bait.

“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Are there certain questions you’d like me to ask?”

“Well, first, I have a strange request for you.” The coach’s tone suddenly shifted from authoritative to friendly. “My son made a comment the other day about my body odor, and I’ve been quite self-conscious about it since.”

“I can’t smell anything,” Tony replied honestly, hoping to move forward quickly.

“I just want to make sure.” Coach Sorenson pushed his muscular body out of the chair, the giant frame once again showcasing its massive form as it ascended upwards. The coach then made his way over to the loveseat, taking a seat right next to the very uncomfortable Tony. Compared to the coach, the sophomore now looked even smaller than before.

“Can you smell me when I’m sitting right next to you?”

Tony, now even more intimidated then he had been the entire time, took a theatrical sniff before sputtering out a meek, “N-n-no.”

“Alright,” Coach Sorenson shifted over, getting close enough that his gigantic arms and legs were rubbing up against the beanstalks Tony called limbs. “How about now?”

“S-s-still n-nothing!” Tony squeaked. The coach smirked and casually raised his arms behind his head, stretching out his compression shirt and allowing tufts of wet armpit hair to spill out. Now Tony began to smell something pungent, repulsive, and… addicting. His eyes began to water from the stench as he gradually lost focus.

“Really?” Coach Sorenson insisted, slowly leaning one of his pits into Tony’s face. “Are you sure I don’t smell?”

With logic disappearing quickly, Tony decided this had to be a test. All he had to do was show his obedience to the coach and he would get to publish the article. Without a doubt in his idea, he confidently moved his nose right into a damp forest, the stench almost hitting him immediately. Although he now knew his answer, Tony didn’t stop sniffing. For some reason, he kept going. He had had three words to describe the flavor of the coach’s body odor before, but now the only one that came to mind was-

“Addicting, isn’t it?” The coach cooed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pushing his head in further. “Mark really made sure to make his cologne captivating, that way you’d have no chance of escaping.”

Tony should’ve been panicking; he should’ve been screaming and trying to escape. But he couldn’t, and not because he was being physically held down. He could slip out in seconds if he wanted too, but that was the problem: he didn’t want too.

“After I discovered your little essay, I had to assure your disappearance would be quick and much more hidden than the other students.”

Tony was too captivated in the tangles of pit hair to hear or understand what was going on.

“Although Heir probably would’ve worked, I decided it would be best to be extra cautious. Mark had informed me a few weeks ago that he had made a new detergent for his uncle, the CEO of TenHaken Industries. Apparently it was a success, as its main purpose was to give the employees a few extra decades.”

Tony, who was still feverishly sniffing, began to feel pulsing tingles race across his limbs. He twitched violently but continued to dedicate his attention to the pits at hand.

“So, in hopes that Tony Reardon would vanish from the university while also becoming an advocate for the Athletic Department,” Coach Sorenson smirked proudly. “I decided to mix Heir with Maturitatem, the aging scent that Mark made for his uncle.”

The coach pulled a small, empty cologne bottle out of his pocket. It had two labels on it: one that had been originally attached and one that had been taped on. Tony wasn’t able to see either, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was smell the coach’s greasy jungles of pit hair.

Lost in bliss, Tony didn’t notice how the tingling from before had now spread to every part of his body. With every passing second, it seemed to be expanding, pushing outwards as if it was begging for release. In its attempts to escape, the energy pulled at Tony’s mass like taffy, stretching out his limbs and torso as they were pulled further apart. Satisfied with how the process had begun, Coach Sorenson had to readjust his arm to make sure the larger Tony could fit under it. Once the stretching had stopped, the lanky boy now stood at 6’4, just under the coach. He now had to crouch a little with his feet planted firmly on the floor so he could keep inhaling the intoxicating scent.

Now that he was of proper height, the tingling began to focus on certain areas of improvement. The first were the arms, which immediately bloated outwards as mass began to develop. Thick, juicy muscles pushed outwards to create firm biceps, triceps, and forearms. Veins snaked their way downwards to process more flow of testosterone and other hormones. Tony’s hands, which were previously delicate enough to make a typewriter silent, ballooned out as extra flesh made each of his fingers into calloused sausages. They were now only meant to throw, grip, and squeeze.

The tingling then moved across the shoulders and into Tony’s torso. Straight, strong shoulder blades popped out as his chest began to inflate with each huff. Two sturdy pecs pushed against his shirt fiercely, causing the buttons to eventually fly off in random directions. After the pectorals had arrived, they were followed by a magnificent eight-pack that was sure to impress crowds. A hard, defined core helped Tony’s stature become more masculine, giving him a stronger alpha presence to compare to the coach’s.

With the torso improved, the tingling split into two. The first colony swam south, spreading across Tony’s extended legs. The twitching began much more as the Coach eagerly watched the khakis strain at the seams before ripping. As they slipped away–along with his briefs–two sets of gloriously crafted trunks were revealed. Beefy quads were taking in their first light just like the sculpted calves below. A pair of succulent buttocks had also appeared below, hoisting Tony up a little further into Coach Sorenson’s armpit. The sheer size of Tony’s legs forced him to subconsciously push them apart to allow room for his below-average pouch. Although Tony wasn’t a true man yet, his newly-permanent manspread said otherwise.

The tingling also made sure to target Tony’s feet, giving off a similar feeling as if they had fallen asleep. The two soles began to slowly pulse outwards, gaining mass and girth with each increasing centimeter. It wasn’t long before Tony’s shoes were simply destroyed, losing their shape as they were torn into multiple pieces. Coach Sorenson watched on proudly as he swiftly pushed the remains of all the destroyed clothing underneath the coffee table. With surprise, he noticed that Tony was still wearing socks. They had once been knee-high, but now rested right at the ankle, just barely managing to cover the Size 16 feet.

The second group of tingles had now moved upwards, quickly bringing along a flurry of changes as it zipped by. Tony’s neck grew outwards to support larger, broadening vocal chords, which now provided a grumbling bass voice similar in timbre to the coach’s. Tony’s head lengthened out to give him a wider, more prominent chin, allowing for a sharper jaw in return. His ears perked out a little more, along with giving him a bigger nose, wider lips, and piercing brown eyes to replace his shimmering blue ones. His hair also tidied itself up, pulling back up and flopping over as it now had a modern, but natural lift to it.

“Yeah, you’re looking real good,” Coach Sorenson murmured, shoving Tony a little deeper into his pit. “Now, let’s see the namesake of Heir…”

The tingling returned to its roaring presence across Tony’s body once more, except this time it felt more like itching. Sprouts of hair follicles began to explode forth from Tony’s skin, blooming all across his legs, chest, and pubes. Hefty tufts swirled around each other on Tony’s forearms and thighs, while dense forests now covered his calves, chest, and the tops of his feet. Tony’s upper arms were pushed out just slightly to make room for the emerging jungles of pit hair, which now filled in a space Tony had no idea existed before. His face also gained a rather gracious smattering of hair, as he now adorned an extended goatee that could grow back in less than 24 hours. A strong odor began to erupt out of Tony’s body too, a masculine funk coming from his pits and feet that demanded authority.

“…and of Maturitatem.”

Coach Sorenson hadn’t exactly known how much of the detergent to add, but he had assumed a few drops was enough when he had mixed it into the cologne. By the looks of it, he had put in the perfect amount, as the effects were rather minor but definitely noticeable. Tightening of muscles all across Tony’s body came first, followed by the tiniest of wrinkles and weathered skin. Tony’s hairline fell noticeably back, and his once full head of hair lost its youthful thickness. His marvelous eight pack thrusted forward into a powerful muscle gut, almost identical to the coach’s. Finally, Tony’s body hair became a little denser and coarser, adding a few more playful curls across his limbs.

“You’re looking much better,” Coach Sorenson commented as he slowly brought Tony out of his armpit. Tony was startled and bewildered, the smell of the coach’s pits still potent in his nose.

“Now, let’s get you changed into, well, something.” The coach quickly maneuvered his lumbering body across the room to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a set of clothes.

“I always have a few spare shirts and shorts,” Coach Sorenson began as he plodded back over to Tony. “And looking at you, I’d say we’re pretty close to the same size now.”

As Tony was still in a daze, the coach had to help him put on the clothes. First, he carefully placed a tight, gray compression shirt over Tony’s chest, struggling a little at the pecs but eventually making it over. Then, he proceeded to shimmy a pair of blue compression shorts up Tony’s bare lower body, not bothering to grab him any sort of underwear. The coach knew he would rather be commando in the end anyway. Coach Sorenson also grabbed a black baseball hat that had been hanging on the wall and placed it on Tony’s head, making sure to twist it. Although Tony now looked to be around 30, he could still rock a backwards cap.

“Alright,” Coach grunted as he collapsed back into the loveseat beside Tony, the two barely fitting now. “There’s just one more thing we have to do.”

“One… more thing?” Tony’s sonorous voice seemed lifeless. His head had just begun to clear up, but at such a tedious rate that even the simplest of thoughts were difficult to comprehend.

“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know that this process had two steps.” Coach Sorenson grinned, glistening in the warmth of his own arrogance.

“First, there’s the cologne, which you’ve already experienced.” The coach brought up one of his feet onto the coffee table. Tony nodded in response, still unable to think straight.

“And then,” Coach Sorenson yanked off one of his sneakers. “there’s the sole of the shoe. It’s specially designed to help you mentally process the transformation.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yeah,” the coach replied, nonchalantly shoving the sneaker into Tony’s face. “When I read your article, which wasn’t half bad might I add, I was surprised to find that you had missed a whole component of our project.”

Tony, who had finally started to make it out of the haze, was sucked right back in as he passionately inhaled the coach’s foot funk.

“But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Coach Sorenson demeaningly patted Tony’s back. “In a few minutes, you’ll barely be able to read an article, let alone write one. You’ll be just what the Athletic Department needs.”

To the coach’s delight, Tony had now grabbed the gargantuan shoe and was holding it to his own nose. His frantic sniffing was quickly replacing his personalities, values, and morals; shifting them out with thoughts crafted for a team player. Years of academic clubs, races, and scholarships fell away into the abyss, only to be replaced with numerous sport outings of various kinds. His saxophone lessons had changed to baseball practices, his writing seminars had switched into working out in the gym, and his tutoring sessions had flipped from him being the tutor into him being the tutored.

An extra ten years were also added onto his mental plate, giving Tony a whole new history. For years after (somehow) graduating from the university with a Sports Education degree, he had worked as a personal trainer at a local gym, climbing the ranks until he had become the assistant manager. That’s when Coach had dropped by to check on him, with his true intent to offer him an assistant coaching position back at the university. Tony had agreed to an interview not only because it would put his degree to good use, but he’d also get to work with Coach again, and under him. Tony suddenly recalled all the late nights he spent with Coach, lots of one-on-one brojobs, handjobs, and of course, offering his hole whenever Coach needed it. And if Tony got to train his own team, he’d have a group of young boys at his sexual disposal. Just thinking about it made his cock spring to life.

Speaking of his cock, all the information that was being replaced had to move somewhere else, with the only available option being Tony’s balls. With all of his former intellect and memories now stored there, the once previously grape-sized testicles had now bloated into two ample tennis balls. In response to the new volume, Tony’s sack began to ferment the material, slowly dissolving it down and reconstructing into pure jock seed. As the new production began, testosterone dispersed throughout Tony’s pouch, affecting his dick instantly. It was already hard at 5 inches, but it hastily expanded forward into his shorts, becoming as thick as a beer can as it now stood at 9.5 inches.

As everything that made up Tony was now accumulated in Tony’s balls, Coach Sorenson knew it was time for the final step. He gently grabbed the man’s giant cock, gave a good, long squeeze, and let go. Tony in turn took a deep, heavy inhale of the coach’s shoe before exhaling slowly, allowing for a giant wet spot to appear on the front of his shorts. The coach then leisurely made his way back to his own chair, taking a seat and getting into position. Now given more space, the new man hiked up both of his legs arrogantly on the coffee table, spreading them as far apart as possible to take up as much space on the loveseat as he could. Although he knew Coach Sorenson would always be superior, he wanted to make it clear that he could be an alpha too.

“Thank you for coming in today, Tony. I’m glad we could get you here on such short notice.”

“Of course, bro,” Tony responded. “I’d do anything for you, Coach.”

“Good to know,” Coach Sorenson winked before continuing. “Because I know you’re not that bright, we can skip past the logistics and get right to the basics.”

“That’s sick! Thanks, Coach.” Tony gave a dull guffaw.

“Now, Tony,” Coach accentuated the name, chewing on it intently. “Tony isn’t a name that demands respect, authority, and masculinity, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Coach.”

“To be a coach, you know how important it is to give the right impression. You need to be an example to these boys, someone they can look up too.”

“Yeah, Coach.”

“I know you want my advice.  I am a good mentor.”

“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Anthony Renz.” The change inside Anthony’s head was instant

“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.

“Try it on me.”

“Hello, my name is Anthony Renz.” Any existence of the name Tony Reardon ceased to exist as Anthony Renz came into place.

“Very good, Anthony.” Hearing Coach say it, as though it always had been, made Anthony cum just a little more inside his shorts.

“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.

“Yeah bro?”

“Are you missing anything?”

Anthony thought it was an odd question, but he decided to respond to it truthfully.

“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my Coach!”

“Perfect,” Coach Sorenson replied. “Welcome to the team. Before you head out, let’s talk pay.”

Coach Sorenson proudly looked over his new Assistant Baseball Coach, happy that he’d gotten rid of a nuisance and filled a seat on his board. No one would come looking for Tony Reardon, but if they did, Coach Sorenson would know just what to do with them. Maybe Assistant Coach Renz would have some coworkers in the near future.

Check out my new story on my side-blog!

Power Couple

---

Thank you all for waiting! Its a tad longer than I've ever written before.

I hope you all like it! Thanks again to @mrrharper for proof-reading!

----

"Hey, Babe?"

"Yes, Chris?"

"Can you help me put this on?" Chris said, motioning over to the little white tube on the counter top.

As Alex walked over into the kitchen, his boyfriend was already taking off his shirt.

"So, what's this for?" Alex asked, inspecting the label on the tube he just picked.

"You know my co-worker Jack right?"

"The gym bunny, right?"

"Yeah that one."

"So what about him?"

"Well. I was chatting with him during my break and he told him I recently started going to the gym, so he offered me this cream."

"Hmm. What's so special about it though? Looks like any ordinary cream to me" Alex remarked after scrutinizing the ingredient list.

"Uh. He said it helped him a lot when starting out. Helps prevent sore muscles and promotes muscle growth or something."

"Anyway, it's getting a bit chilly. Can you lather me up already?"

"Uh yeah sure, sorry"

Squeezing the tube revealed a solid white cream which felt cool to touch. Alex put a sizeable blob on his hand and spread it out on Chris' back much like you would do with sun screen on a hot summer day. It felt like it too. The thin liquid quickly disappeared into his, what looked to be broader, shoulders as he rubbed it in.

"I think I can see your effort pay off a little already babe, your shoulders look a bit broader" Alex noted.

"Really?" Chris asked, glowing from the compliment.

"Of course!" Alex replied smiling back at his boyfriend.

"Well, this is the only start babe" he said with a confident smirk while quickly putting back on his workout shirt.

"That said, time for my workout. Thanks for helping babe" Chris said giving a peck on his boyfriend's cheek before leaving the apartment.

Chris could definitely feel the work of the cream. Like a machine he was pumping through his sets. Usually, he'd feel his limit kick in quickly. However, today he felt like he could pump another extra 2 sets.

Chris wasn't the only that had noticed the change. One of the biggest guys, Scott had made his way over as Chris was still busy pushing out reps.

"Want me to spot for ya, bro?" a familiar baritone called out.

As Chris looked up he was met with Scott's face.

"Uh yeah. Thanks, that'd be great" Chris replied, not expecting Scott to come over.

Scott was the gentle giant you'd always hear of: mind fully set on lifting but always there to help newbies in the gym.

"No problem bro. I noticed you've been in the gym longer than you'd usually be, you getting a feel for it bro? huhuhuh" Scott said, his hands now hovering under Chris' bar.

"Yeah huhuhuh, today's been great. Been lifting so much more than I usually can, I'm really feeling the burn" Chris replied, surprised at the sudden guffaw he'd apparently taken over.

"Bro you should watch your form, your arms are a bit crooked. It'll make your shoulders will really start hurt, bro. Here lemme show you" he said as he helped Chris rack his bar.

"You've gotta make sure sure you spread your arms wider, it shifts the strain back to your chest muscles" Scott said, as he pushed Chris' arms futher apart.

Taking his advice, Chris once again lowered the bar to start benching another set.

"You feel the strain now, bro?" Scott asked while gently pushing down on your pec muscles

"Yeah bro, that definitely makes a difference" Chris grunted as beads sweat started to form on his face.

"I think you can do better than this bro, let's add a plate"

Normally Chris wouldn't have considered it, but today he was on fire.

"Yeah bro, let's do it!"

As Scott loaded up another plate on each side, Chris felt his motivation rise further.

"Come on lil' bro, you almost have it!" Scott hyped up Chris as his last rep.

With Scott spotting him, he managed to break multiple PRs that day. Not only had he done more sets in one session than he usually would but he also managed lift extra weight.

"Good shit bro, huhuhuh" Scott said as he helped rack the bar again.

"Man, I can't believe it went this well today. I hope I'm not too sore tomorrow" Chris said to himself.

"You'll be alright bro. Let's hit the showers" Scott reassured him while putting away the weights.

After putting back all the weights the two of them walked towards the locker room.

"Hey bro, you've got a good pump now. Gotta show it off, you know what I mean?" he said with a slight smirk.

"Come on bro don't be shy, huhuhuh" he said put his hand around Chris' shoulder and leading him to the mirror.

Like an older brother teaching his younger brother Scott took off his sweaty tank and struck a side chest pose.

"You see bro? Like this" he said to the side as he kept looked straight forward to the mirror.

In the reflection he could see Chris acting shy and hesitant.

Taking matters into his own hands he grabbed onto Chris shirt and lifted it over his head in one swoop.

Chris' sweaty body was now fully on display.

"Hey, uh, what"

Chris was stunned. One second he was lost in thought and now he found his shirt was missing laying on the ground.

"See bro, your body looks good" Scott said, as he placed his large paw of a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Having Scott support him felt really good.

He felt like a big bro to Chris, which reassured him.

Quickly, Chris' hesitation started to fade and he started notice the, albeit small, amount of muscle definition that had started develop.

"I look good bro" Chris said, as he now admired his muscles, his mouth almost agape.

"You do bro. Now come on, show off those arms. Ya know, strike a pose, go crazy huhuh"

Without much hesitation this time Chris flexed his left arm. He looked in the reflection as he saw a bump form as he curled his arm.

"Your arm is looking pretty big now bro, right? huhuh"

"Huhuh, yeah bro. This is great"

"You coming again tomorrow bro?"

"You bet."

"Hey babe, how was your workout?" Alex called over from the living room upon hearing the sound of the door opening.

"It was amazing. This jock cream does wonders. I was able to do like two more sets than usual." he explained as he dropped off his gym bag.

"Wow babe, thats great" Alex said, giving Chris a quick kiss.

"Yeah. The biggest guy even came to spot and me gave me some tips about my form. Bro's amazing" Chris explained enthusiastically.

"Look, he even taught me how to a pose" he said, stricking a double bicep pose.

"You like what you see? huhuh" Chris said with a cocky smirk on his face.

"Yes babe, I do" Alex replied, totally turned on by the sexy muscle and newfound confidence.

"Well then. Let's go somewhere you can see some more" Chris winked, eying at their bedroom door.

"Ah... I really overdid it yesterday" Chris groaned in pain.

"Yeah.... You did...." Alex laughed, rubbing his ass cheeks.

Chris put his arm around Alex as they snuggled up together and cuddled for a couple minutes.

"Alex, could you help me put on the jock cream again? I promised bro I'd be there today as well."

"Of course babe, let me grab it."

Upon returning Alex found Chris laying on his back already. Alex never really paid that much attention but his boyfriend really had some nice definition going.

He was also wondering why Chris was saying bro so often now, but in all honesty, he actually found it kinda hot.

Again he put the cream on his hands and started the massage it into his boyfriends skin.

"You like that bro?" Alex said, thinking his boyfriend is just roleplaying.

"Yeah bro, that hits the spot" Chris replied, letting out a soft moan as the soreness of his muscles soothed.

"So, you're gonna lift with your bros today right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, huhuhuh. You should join bro"

Alex started to think about it.

"Turn around babe, I'll get the front for you as well"

"Thanks babe"

He started fantasizing about becoming a fitness power couple.

"Hmm, perhaps I could try it out some time."

"Bro, no better time than now! Come join me today" Chris said enthuastically.

"I'm not sure yet babe" Alex said, avoiding Chris' gaze.

Noticing that Alex was avoiding looking at Chris he grabbed his arms and flipped him around.

Chris was now on top, pinning down Alex's arms to the matress.

"Come on babe, do it for me" Chris pleaded.

"Okay... Fine" Alex said with a slight giggle.

With a triumphant sigh Chris let go of Alex' arms.

"If I'm going I want to try that cream as well" Alex pouted.

Chris obliged and made sure oil up his boyfriend just as well as he has done for him.

The two oiled up lovers grinned at each other for a moment before starting resuming their cuddle from 15 minutes ago. Whilst cuddling they could feel the slick layer of jock cream rub against each other's skins as it slowly absoorbed into their skins.

"Hey bro, ready for the workout today?" Scott called out at the sight of Chris

"Of course bro, wouldn't want to miss it." Chris replied enthusiastically.

"Lil' bro, who's this?" Scott asked, looking at the newcomer that stood next to Chris.

"This is my boyfriend Alex, Scott. Managed to convince him to go with me to the gym, huhuhuh"

"Nice bro, the more the merrier. The more muscle the better right, bro?" Scott asked Alex who stood awkwardly next to his boyfriend.

"Yeah, bro. Of course" Alex replied.

While it was fun roleplaying with his boyfriend, Alex had to admit it felt kinda embarrased calling Scott a bro. He did however see why Chris said he liked the guy.

"Let's go, broskis" Scott said, heading towards weight room

They started their workouts, going even harder than the day before. The three of them pumped out rep after rep on various machines, aiming to .

"Come on, you can do it. One more rep, just one more" Alex said to hype up Scott as he had already pumped five reps of what seemed to be Alex and Chris' weights combined.

"Nice bro you got this" Chris said, giving Scott a pat on the back.

What Alex thought was just some casual banter between dudes started to worry him now. In his recollection, Chris never said bro before yesterday. If anything his boyfriend not only sounded like a bro but also had started to act like one.

"Hey babe, can I talk to you for a sec?" Alex asked, pulling Chris to the side.

"Ever since you came back yesterday, you've been acting like some frat bro. What's up with that?"

"huhuhuh I guess you're right bro, I have been acting like one"

"There you go again. Chris, what's happening to you?" Alex asked, sounding legitimately concerned now.

Intrigued by the heated conversation Scott had made his way over and put his arms around both men's shoulders. "What's the fuss about bros?"

"I'll tell you what the problem is! 'Bro' this 'bro' that' Alex said angrily as he removed Scott's arm from his shoulder.

"Bro, calm down" Scott said

"I am- uh not a bro!" Alex defended with a slight hesitation in voice.

"Bro, babe, why are you getting so heated? Why not put that energy towards lifting? huhuhuh" Chris said

"Br-babe, I- bro"

Alex could feel his control slipping away.

He felt his brain turn to mush as his worries started to fade.

Bro...

Bro...

Bro...

The more it was repeated, the more Alex lost his way.

Each time he got a step closer.

Step by step.

Until something just snapped.

"Hey bros, why are you just standing there?" Alex asked with a perplexed look on his face.

The fog in his mind had cleared. He was no longer confused.

Alex was a bro. Chris was a bro. Scott was his big bro.

They were always best bros.

"Ah it's nothing bro, you were just being a little dummy" Scott said

"Huhuhuh sorry bro" Alex replied, absently scratching his head

"Let's continue working out, broskis" Chris chimed in.

This time, the trio really managed to finish their workouts. Despite only being a newcomer Alex had been able to lift a huge amount of weight. Normally, one would only be lifting as much if after half a year of consistently working out.

Thanks to the magic of the jock cream however both Chris and Alex could easily push pasts their limits again and again.

Before finishing their workout Chris quickly snapped a pic.

"You two are really becoming a power couple aren't you, broskis? huhuhuh" Scott remarked.

"Huhuhuh yeah bro" Alex said as he continued lifting his barbells.

"Of course bro" Chris chimed in, quickly striking a double bicep pose to show off his gains.

Dissolving Swim Shorts

Inspired by a video I saw

Tanner was a lonely college freshman. Thin, nerdy and very body shy. He was surprised there were very few clubs at his school, it seemed like all of the guys were in the frats or sports. He felt self conscious seeing all of the bigger guys in the halls wearing tight revealing clothing to show off their muscles and hair. One day he found a package outside his dorm, which contained a bathing suit, a tank top and an invitation to a big frat pool party. The invitation said the outfit had to be worn to be admitted, Tanner sighed. Even a sleeveless shirt made him feel uncomfortable showing off his skinny arms and lack of body hair. But he was lonely and bored so he forced himself into the suit, noticing the material felt oddly light and strange to the touch. He shrugged it off and put on some shoes and went to the party.

He made it to the gate where two large frat boys in just swim trunks stopped him.

"No shoes bro, only the outfit you were sent, thats the rule".

Tanner felt his face reddening but he had already come this far. He tossed off one shoe and then the other, revealing his small, pale feet. The guards took the shoes from him and waved him in. As he went past they laughed and tossed the shoes in the garbage knowing he wouldn't need them anymore. Tanner quickly noticed he was by far the smallest guy there in a crowd of hairy studs all flexing, chest bumping and playing beer pong. He wandered around near the pool when a pair of hands suddenly hit his chest hard sending him toppling in. He looked around at all the smiling frat boys who stared at him with looks that said they were expecting something. He looked down in horror to see his shirt melting off. His small nipples, flat stomach, all bare. He raised his hands meekly to cover himself only causing the other guys to laugh.

"Show off show off!" They chanted.

Tanner felt an odd heat and pressure as if the pool was warming up. His hands were starting to be pushed away from his chest as his pecs grew! Muscles ached and expanded until a definitive shelf had formed. His nipples enlarged and pointed slightly down. That wasn't all, his stomach had expanded, hard muscles could be felt there but also a bit of fat like he drank too much or was just lazy between work outs.  Tanner turned a bright crimson, embaressed but also oddly turned on by having this new muscle. His small joy quickly faded though as an itching spread over him. The newly enlarged chest was now sprouting curly brown hairs everywhere! Gross, he thought, muscle was one thing but he didn't wanna end up a hairy frat boy like these guys! He splashed towards the stairs in a hurry, hoping getting out of the water would halt the changes. Just then he felt a rush of water around his privates and saw in horror that his bathing suit had disentegrated.

"Show it off bruh!" One of the frat bros shouted. Tanner let out a loud, deep moan as he felt his dick slowly growing.

"No, no, nooooo" he moaned as it grew thick and hairy, dark hair swirling up around his dick to meet the pelt on his chest before swirling around to connect with his newly hairy ass that had also pushed out into a firm bubble butt. Tanner was overwhelmed with shame. His big, hairy, sexed up body exposed for all to see.  Even his hands and feet had swelled greatly. Hair pushing out on his feet and toes. No way those old shoes would fit now. Not that hed be wearing shoes. Against the embaressment a new thought was fighting to take over.

"Damn, Im hot" Tanner grunted not realizing he had said it aloud. But it was true. As much as he had felt grossed out before a growing part of him loved this big, hairy body.

Sexy.

Thats what he was.

Enough to get any girl and maybe some guys. He needed to show off. A cocky grin grew across his face which had changed to become more angular. A 5 o clock shadow growing in and beaming blue eyes under heavy eye brows. He took a big wet hand and slicked back his curly brown hair with blonde highlights before striding out of the pool, proudly letting his new cock swing between his legs, half erect already from all the hot people at the party. He fist bumped the other guys and grabbed a beer before chugging it. 

"Lets party!"