Watch Where Youre Going! Snapped The Businessman, Sam Milton, The Newly Made CEO Of His Fathers Business.

“Watch where you’re going!” snapped the businessman, Sam Milton, the newly made CEO of his father’s business. Hot coffee spilled over his suit as he quickly wiped away, glaring at the speedo wearing shirtless and skimpy man in front of him that had bumped into him. They held a rainbow flag in hand as Sam instantly knew he was from the pride parade that was nearby.

“Sorry mate,” came the relaxed and British sounding voice of the shirtless man, Sam felt he saw him somewhere as a model, but he wasn’t sure why he would ever remember that as he glared at him, as a barista came rushing over.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Milton, sir, could I get you a new order?” questioned the barista quickly, Sam shrugged.

“It’s fine, not like he put anything in the coffee,” Sam joked as he took a sip, not ever noticing the slightly tangy taste that came from the hot substance inside as he finished wiping himself off before leaving.

On the way to work, he found himself finishing the coffee before finally entering his office, sitting down with the skyline behind him, his assistant had already left a stack of files and things to do. Sam started to get to work, reviewing reports, as he started to find himself sweat. It was small at first, droplets on the back of his hand before beads started to run down his forehead. “Why isn’t the AC on?” Sam muttered, coughing as he noticed the odd gruffness off his voice, he started to unbutton himself, taking off his tie.

And then his dick started to become erect. Sam shuffled and stifled in his seat as thoughts of the parade came across his mind, not realising that he had been straight before, he just had a date yesterday! His hand slowly started to find itself on his thigh, wanting to inch closer and closer to his needy cock, he shouldn’t be doing this at work of all places, but his mind could barely respond, and his fingers grew closer and closer, coiled towards the very edge of his length and then-

“Sir,” A knock came at the open door, as his assistant stood firm in the doorway, giving them a warm smile. Sam instantly picked his hand away, focusing on them as best he could, only thinking about his body, those fuckable lips…Why was he thinking about that? Damn it, he needed to focus!

“Yes?” Sam’s voice sounded odd and distorted, he coughed to try and cover it up, wondering what was happening as sweat continued to sheen off skin.

“The investor, Mr. Clarke is on the line, the one to call about our next quarter,” informed the assistant, Sam nodded as they gave him one last smile before walking away back to their desk and closing the door behind them. Sam instantly picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mr. Milton,” Sam’s voice only grew rougher and rougher, as he felt his hand clutched around his cock through his suit pants, unable to stop himself as he started to see his hand, slowly growing paler and paler, the fingers felt longer as they started to grow and expertly maneuvered around his head.

“Mr. Milton, is it? I’m Julius Clarke of Clarke Foundations, I just wanted to speak to you briefly…” The voice paused as Milton couldn’t help but emit a low groan as he could feel his other hand starting to grow larger, wrapping around the phone in his hand as his other teased the head of his lengthening cock, starting to slither down towards his thighs as the first tears at the seams of his pants could be heard. “Mr. Milton, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a-head-” Sam yelped as his fingers stroked over the tip of his cock, the more they played with him, the more he felt himself growing as more rips were spreading in his pants, revealing more of the muscular mass of his legs underneath that started to grow, “of myself. Carry on.” Sam quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth as he started to see his cock poke through the top of his boxers and pants, throbbing as the suit pants were shedding away.

“As some of you know, some of our recent investors have been a pain in the ass-” Sam almost fell from his chair, now his knuckle stone white as it grabbed at the edge of his desk, feeling his chair pushed away slightly from under him as Sam felt his cheeks spread apart, hairs growing on the back as they began to grow and tear away the Calvin Klein boxers and seat of his pants. “And not to mention the fact that they’ve been clearly ripping us off.” The rest of the pants ripped away as Sam felt his thighs thickening, growing in muscularity as they became lean and long, stretching out beyond the desk and causing Sam to fall on his knees, only his office shirt on as he resisted the urge to moan at the feeling of his calves growing.

“Yeah, we- we should come-” Sam felt his cock twitch, still growing in girth and elongating as it flopped down between his legs, looking paler and larger as pre-cum dripped. “I mean, get over there and sort…sort it out.” Sam couldn’t breathe if he kept talking, trying to stop himself from panting and groaning as he felt his feet start to crawl forward, looking over his shoulder as his dress shoes began to split, the black shiny soles as his large pale feet started to poke through.

“Exactly, now I think you could be a strong competitor,” started the investor, the moment he said strong, Sam felt his arms flex themselves, needlessly watching the rest of the buttons from his tight shirt spray into the air as they were flexed off. Sam had always been fit, but this was something else as he started to cup his new pecs that became extremely large, swelling to the point where he could barely believe they were real. The muscular power flowed through his stomach, his once lean abs now became stronger and sturdier, growing and thickening as they were now deep crevices in his stomach. “I’m hosting a gala soon, where we could discuss this with some other members who are interested in a coalition of sorts, would you be interested?”

“Sorry,” Sam couldn’t tell if he was apologising to the investor for the noises or the meeting as he felt himself near writhing on the ground, the phone still barely in hand as he continued sweating, his cock throbbing.

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was having some people coming all the way from Britain,” It was then Sam started to find his mind rearranging, new accents and words fading in and out as he couldn’t even remember what it was like to start speaking with an American accent, his own groans and muffled moans started to sound different in his deep voice that lingered on with a new London accent. “Well, I will speak to you soon then, here’s hoping you can still come.” With that, everything went blank, business, statistics, stock prices, and so much more as Sam saw nothing but white as his dick throbbed and delivered the best orgasm of his life, spraying and coating his entire body and desk with his own cum, every single orgasm erasing Sam Milton as the American businessman, now replaced with the London model as he began to moan out loud, writhing in his own pleasure as he came again…and again…and again.

“Oh fucking hell mate, where the fuck am I?” Sam muttered to himself as he started to look around, standing up behind his desk now as a naked muscular hunk dripping with cum and sweat.

Some time had passed after the incident, Sam couldn’t remember what he was doing that day but now found himself too busy to care. The business was taken over by his father until his son was “feeling better”. His dad now started going to the same coffee shop as he did with the same guys who came from the same parade every year. It was only a matter of time before he followed his son’s footsteps.

As for Sam Milton, well he now found himself posing on the billboard across from his old office, modelling for the makeup company; Clarke Foundations. 

Body to Brag

--- Originally posted by unknown before 2018-08-22 ---

So you want a body you can brag about, well since you been so nice and kind and you have helped me along this journey I can.

All I just need is you to put these on. Ohh, there to big for you.

I am sure you will grow into them.

You're feeling hot?

Why don't you just jump into the blue sea and cool off?

Wow, nice jump man.

Are you still feeling good? No? How?

All a sudden you feel great pain in the chest and feel great muscle grow, you feel six punches in your belly, you uncover a sweet six-pack.

You feel more muscle growth in your arms and legs, as you get stronger.

You feel that tension between your arms and your moans as they grow bigger and deeper.

Your legs get straight as all the muscle gets into a balance.

Heat goes to your face as you feel a rash and the more you started you felt a small beard form.

You soon feel you get longer and your nose straight and your eyes widened to show you beautiful eye color as it changes from green to black and soon that red hair becomes a beautiful brown shiny hair.

You begin to moan as your small ass gets bigger for fucking people with, your dick gets bigger and so do your balls, as you cum all over them.

You begin to moan, as your mind becomes clear and you're dumber, as it gets cleared with sexy guys.

Well if you are feeling good, you look good instead.

Well, get out of that water if you feeling good? No, why?

Who are you starting at? Him? Wow!

Why don't you get a piece of him?

You can brag to him about your body, but I think you're too dumb to understand me.

Well just go gets some ass because I think he is starting at you too and I think he needs help down there man.

And maybe after that, you can tell me the details.

Well, I don't think you need that Brian to brag, even though you can't because you're too dumb to understand me and you can just let your body do the work.

Oops sorry man I that I used too many words.

Don't stand around to get him.

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.”

mrrharper Masterpost

what's up bros

to make this blog a bit more accessible, this is gonna be an index of all of my stories and other stuff connected with me, neatly divided into themes

everything's under this pic of a hot stud

Jock TF

Todd goes to a gym / Academic requirements / A Son, Reformed / Muscles In Chains / The Rookie's Figuring It Out / Headphones In, Guns Out / Waiting For The Roommate / Mandatory PE Class / A Real Jock's Supposed to Be Dumb /

Jock-focused

Under Armour Jock™ / Coach's Process of Developing a Jock / More Loyal, More American, More The Same / Muscle Memory / Inside A Jock's Mind / Script For A Jock / No-Trade Clause /

Cop/Soldier reprogramming

Programming Adjustment / Law, Order and Musk / Personal Muscle, Uniform Included / A Guard Programmed To Control And Obey /

Gym Bro TF (and adjacent)

Gym Bro / Bro Advice / A Workout Break / This Is How You Recruit Gym Bros / Waking Up Huge And Jocked / Empty Eyes, Pumped Bis

Other stuff

Commissions - I am open for commissions. Want me to write you a story? Check the linked post for all the necessary details

#AMA - you can see all the questions I have answered from previous AMAs under this hashtag

Ko-fi page - you can support me and my work on ko-fi

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.

Hi, i was hoping my Touristics trip would take me to Greece?

Well of course we can arrange a journey to Greece, we even have multiple packages to book. Looking at you I think you would it would be good for you to book our Mt. Olympus package. Climb the mountain of gods if you like or drive to the coast, it’s only about 5 minutes by car. But that would be up to you. Oh you would like to climb the mountain first. We can arrange that. 

As you leave my shop, you find yourself on an uncommon street. It isn’t the same you entered the shop through, but you aren’t bothered at all, it feels just right to be here. You wander around and finally a man speaks to you. He is cute, a twink and reveals to have a soft almost feminine voice as he speaks to you: “I have searched for you, you are the tourist the man at Terrence & Ford told me about, aren’t you?” You confirm this and the man leads you down a few roads and then you are able to see your destination, Mt. Olympus.

The little man shows to possess a whole lot of endurance as you climb the mighty peak. Just as he struggles with a particularly high stone you notice his butt, it’s really big from what you see through his pants, and it looks really round and firm. “But wasn’t I supposed to be straight.”, you think as you scratch your head, only the noticing how big your biceps are. You look at them in awe, totally entranced by he twitching of the mighty flexed peaks and the criss-crossing veins running along them. 

Carefully you approach the still struggling mountaineer, grab his ass and help him shove him further up allowing him to climb the rock. Then you reach out and pull yourself up in one fluent motion, earning awestruck gazes from your companion. “Man, it must be nice being this tall.”, he squeaked looking up at your chiseled bearded face.

“Fuck I can’ take it anymore.”, you exclaim in a powerful baritone and pull the man upwards, planting a sensual kiss on his lips, as you rip his pants away, as well as yours. About 10 minutes later you find yourself behind a corner, rapidly jackhammering your new godly cock deep into your companion’s big ass. Another 30 minutes and more than a few loads later you descend down the mountain again.

Though you didn’t reach the peak fully, you still gotta show the mortals on the beach what a true Olympian looks like.