Super Hot Story! Great For A First Attempt At Inanimate TF.

Super hot story! Great for a first attempt at inanimate TF.

Not In The Exhibit Brochure

It was a hot summer day and the city was filled with people coming to be a part of one of the biggest fantasy conventions in the country. Video games, board games, tabletop RPGs, LARP, movies, TV shows, theater shows, even musicals. If one fancied themselves a fan of a franchise that existed in any of these forms, they could be found spending a sunny August weekend in the convention center.

Mark meandered between countless people in the Second Pavilion, getting tired having spent the last five hours walking around the convention area, being asked for pictures and catching up with his friends. This year he came wearing a full cosplay of one of the characters from his favorite first person shooter. He put on a tactical vest, helmet with a full headset, a tactical belt with a bunch of accessories and camo pants. In his hands he was bearing a perfect replica of the most famous gun from the game.

He spent a long time perfecting the costume, both by searching for just the right gear and by spending hours in the gym. Now his broad and thick shoulders, football-sized biceps and veiny forearms were visible for all attendees, which garnered Mark a lot of attention, which he enjoyed.

It was exhausting, however. The temperature inside the convention center got uncomfortably high at times, so he decided to take a break. He fold the few friends who joined him during the day that he was leaving for a while to take in some relatively fresh air, then pushed his way through the crowds until he got to the exit.

Thanks to the fact that the center was basically in the middle of the city he didn't have to go far to get to a park and relax, then find a place to eat and just take a walk through the city.

Mark was aware that many businesses and institutions had various perks for the convention ticket holders, to keep the attendees in the city for longer and spread the economic effects of the convention. He was reminded of this fact just as he was walking by the giant building of the art museum. His curiosity was piqued and he checked if he would get a discount of a ticket. It turned out he could walk in for free, the only requirement was to show his pass at the entrance.

What Mark saw after getting through a quick but awkward security check truly amazed him. He slowly walked from one part of the building to the next, taking his time to watch every piece, all displayed in a well air-conditioned space, which was a nice bonus. The museum had a bunch of different special exhibits currently open to the public and they were all pretty stunning, each in its own way.

Finally, Mark made his way to a part of the museum furthest away from the entrance where he saw a recent collection of sculptures from a local artist. Each statue was an extremely realistic depiction of a person, and they were supposed to collectively represent modern society. There were athletes mid-run, businessmen in the middle of walking in between offices, chefs tasting their newest creations, it was all incredible to watch, every sculpture most likely taking weeks or months to complete. Mark stood in the middle of the room as he looked around and every time he managed to find a new detail in one of the statues. While his eyes were jumping from one piece to another, inspecting every curve and small detail, he was unaware of just how much time has passed since he entered this space.

And then he tried to move.

Mark heard his phone buzz loudly in his pocket. It was probably one of his friends wanting to check up on him. He tried to move his hand to take the phone and answer the call, but it wouldn't move. Neither would his head. Or any part of his body. He was immediately alarmed. Mark tried as hard as he could to get any element within his human form to move even an inch, but it didn't work. His whole body was suddenly completely stationary and he could not control its movements, because he couldn't cause any movements. He started to panic and hoped someone would notice that he wasn't well. There were a lot of people at the museum so it would be just a matter of time before one of them came to this room and noticed a guy in a military cosplay was standing weirdly still.

Except this did not happen. Visitors just passed by him with no interest in the person standing frozen in the middle of the room. As Mark looked with his unmovable eyes at the tourists wandering around the space right in front of him he felt like he was losing the track of time. Was it a minute ago that he realized he couldn't move? No it mus have been almost an hour by then. Nah, it couldn't be.

Then Mark realized something horrifying. Not only was no one coming up to help him, they began to stop in front of him and just look at him, as if he was just another...

Did he turn into a fucking statue?! That terrifying thought seeped deep into his mind wreaking havoc along the way. How could this have happened? Magic? But magic wasn't real! That was impossible, this was a dream, for sure! He tried to move his body even a little bit, but again he failed every time. He desperately tried to force his hand to move so that he could pinch himself and wake up from this terrifying nightmare. But no part of his arm changed position, not even an inch.

A larger group of tourists, mostly retirees, led by a young woman slowly moved through the exhibition space and passed by Mark, who continued to struggle and try to move.

"Huh, the guide didn't say anything about this one. Did that lovely lady talk about this soldier, Harold?" An elderly couple stopped in front of Mark and they stood there and admired him for a moment.

"No, Mary, I'm pretty sure I'd remember" The man, Harold, took a step closer towards the statue.

"Harold!" The woman shouted at him. "You can't walk up too close to the sculptures dear."

"Oh, calm down" Harold responded, slightly annoyed at his wife's comment. "I'm in an art museum so don't tell me to not look at the art." The older man stood just a few steps away from Mark. "There's no plaque or rope or anything, this is a free country, Mary!" He was a few inches shorter than Mark, so he couldn't clearly see everything but it seemed he was just looking at Mark's gear.

"Look.The artist - that Gary what's-his-name - knew what he was doing with this one. I recognize all that gear this man is wearing. Nice work." Harold's tone of voice suggested he was weirdly pleased with the statue that used to be Mark. "This is what a real man's supposed to look like. Not some sissy sitting behind the desk all day."

"Of course Harold, of course" The woman walked up to her husband and put her arm around him, then started gently pushing him towards the other statues.

Mark's brain struggled to comprehend what he had just witnessed. He had really turned into a statue! People thought he was a part of the exhibit! How could this have happened? He couldn't come up with any even remotely plausible explanation for what he was experiencing. He then thought that his only hope would be his friends - they knew he was downtown, maybe some would guess that he used the opportunity to get into the art museum for free, which would lead them to the place where Mark was currently stranded.

The group of retirees came back, walked next to Mark and was about to leave the room when the tour guide looked at him and murmured to herself.

"This statue was not a part of the exhibit. How did it get here?" She grabbed her phone and quickly led her group towards the rest of the museum.

Mark again realized he couldn't tell how much time had passed since any of the recent events. It was as if his internal clock had stopped working, ran out of batteries. This whole experience was so confusing that he had issues fully registering everything. He tried counting in his head, but got lost after 20, maybe? The only thing he was sure of, for now, was that the day had not yet ended, but he could not tell what part of the day it was, as the whole museum was constantly lit with this slightly weird diffused lighting.

Three people suddenly came into view and stood some distance away from Mark, clearly looking at him. He couldn't hear the conversation they were having because of the noise from surrounding visitors, but he could clearly see that they were all agitated, talking over each other and aggressively pointing at themselves and Mark. As he looked closer he realized they were all museum employees, meaning they were probably debating what to do with a statue which has suddenly appeared within the premises of the musem they worked for, a rather uncommon occurrence.

Not long after they left Mark's view and he was once again stuck in this feeling ot timelessness. Tourists stopped in front of him every now and then, looked at him for a moment and moved on, while he stood still, holding the gun in his hands as if ready to fight, and yet incapable of it because of some indescribable force.

The employees from before came back, one of them holding in their hands a metal stand of come kind. It had something written on it at the top, but Mark couldn't see what it was. What he could see was the employee putting the stand in front of him and them all looking at it.

"That will have to do for now" One of them said. This time they were standing closer and Mark was able to hear what they were saying.

"Yeah, I won't be able to make a proper one until tomorrow."

"Okay, but it has to be there by Monday afternoon, otherwise we're fucked. Jesus Christ, still'can't believe this happened."

"No time for moaning, Jacob. We have work to do." Another one replied. They all nodded their heads, took one last look at the stand and quickly left the scene.

Mark thought about what he had just witnessed, and it took him a moment to understand - this was a stand with information about the statue, which meant him. It was the same kind as dozens more throughout the museum that visitors could look at for further information that was meant to enrich their experiences. This was meant to hide the fact that he was not here just mere hours, or minutes, or days, or-- he was certainly not here when the exhibition was opened. That fact was probably what had made them so angry and confused before - from their perspective a random statue of a soldier randomly appeared in the museum.

His mind immediately asked one question - I wonder what did they write on there? What was his title, his author, his artistic description or statement? Wait, his author? That was a strange line of thought, Mark realized.

I am Uncontrolled Power.

Wait, what was that? Who said that? Where was that deep voice coming from?

I was created by Greg Duchaime Arreman.

Was there someone standing behind him?

I am meant to represent unchecked aggression and power of the Military Industrial Complex.

Wait a second, what this voice inside his head?

I am the physical manifestation of toxic masculinity and bravado.

Holy fuck, this was a voice inside his head. Was this... what they had written about him on this stand?

Fuck yeah, I'm an alpha who follows orders and crushes any sign of disloyalty.

The voice was talking to Mark. Shit, the voice was talking to him! What the fuck?

You scum, get ready to experience the primal, animalistic force of a toxic man! I'm gonna crush you!

Mark wanted to sigh loudly, but of course he couldn't. Great, the museum employees with their great art wisdom made him a stereotypical aggressive soldier. Obedient muscle. The armored tool of American imperialism. And this soldier character seemed to have appeared inside his head.

I am here to blindly follow orders, enforce them and show everyone what masculinity really means!

If Mark could have rolled his eyes, he would. He was stuck, like an NPC frozen mid-frame, standing in the middle of an art museum, possibly forever. And from now on he would represent toxic masculinity, aggression and military prowess.

Whoever stands in my way will be violently crushed with the power of the American Military and my primal force! Toxic and proud, that's who I am!

Lil Bro Muscles Up, Finale added

Eighteen year old Jimmy looked in the mirror. Damn he looked good, he thought. Broad shoulders, nice muscles, damn handsome, if he said so himself. “Those Boston College girls won’t know what hit ‘em,” he growled. His beat up Corolla was all packed, all that was left to do was say goodbye to his lil bro, Roy. He felt a bit guilty leaving town for college. Nerdy Roy, only fifteen but going into his junior year since he skipped Grade Four, couldn’t count on the protection of his big bro anymore. He felt worse about leaving Roy to fend for himself than he felt about leaving Cindy, his girlfriend. She was hot, but he was going to be playing the field with college girls, he couldn’t stay attached to a high school senior.

“RoyBoy!” he yelled at his little bro as he stood at the front door. “Gonna miss you, bro! You gonna be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Jimmy,” his lil bro smiled. “I’m gonna use your weights in the basement to get big and strong, like you!”

Jimmy looked at the scrawny limbs of his shrimpy lil bro. He grabbed his upper arm, which was so thin, Jimmy’s fingers touched when he closed his hand. Those little dumbbells in the basement might not be up to the task. “Alright, RoyBoy, I wanna feel some muscle here when I come back for Columbus Day weekend.”

Roy winced. “You know they’re calling it Indigenous People’s Day on college campuses now, right, bro? Maybe it’s me that needs to worry about you, dummy!”

Jimmy laughed and picked his lil bro up and threw him over his shoulder, then spun in place like a helicopter. Roy giggled and yelled. “Put me down you big goof!”

Jimmy dumped him on floor and towered over him, flexing his biceps. “That’ll teach you to call your big bro a dummy.” Roy grinned and stood up, losing his balance. Jimmy righted him by putting his hand on his skinny shoulder. So thin, he thought.

“Okay, RoyBoy, I’m outta here. You do your workouts and make sure Mom feeds your skinny ass.”

He stuck out his hand to his bro, and Roy looked at it funny, but then shook it. They’d never shook hands before, and Jimmy noted that weirdly, his hand was only slightly bigger than Roy’s.

“You hear me?” Jimmy warned with a grin.

Roy squeezed Jimmy’s hand and cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll make you proud, big bro.”

Jimmy pulled up into the driveway at 11 PM after a five hour drive had turned into an eight hour drive due to an accident on the interstate. He was irritable that he missed dinner with the fam. He’d been more homesick than he expected going to college. He was looking forward to hanging out with his lil bro and folks, and maybe even calling up Cindy. With his good looks, he’d scored a lot of sex in his first month on campus at BC, but it all felt kind of empty. He realized that he’d had more of a connection with his high school girlfriend than he thought. He hadn’t texted her though, he thought they should talk in person.

Jimmy opened the front door with his key and all was dark and quiet inside. He walked into the kitchen where his mother had left a plate of food and a note:

“Welcome home honey! Too tired to wait up. Reheat this 2 min on high. Guest bedroom all made up for you. Sleep well and see you in the morning! xoxo”

Jimmy put the plate of food in the microwave and then looked at the note again. Guest bedroom? Is that what they were calling his bedroom now? Geez, he’d only been gone six weeks. The microwave dinged and he tested the food but it was only lukewarm, so he put it in another two minutes and then picked up his duffel bag and went upstairs to drop it in his room.

As he opened the door he practically gagged at the smell. The room reeked. Jimmy covered his mouth and nose with his hand. He looked around and saw that the furniture and posters on the walls were those of his lil bro Roy. “What the hell?” he thought.

There were dirty clothes strewn everywhere, as well as wadded up balls of tissue paper. Gross! He picked his way across the cluttered room to open the window. At least now there was some flow of air.

“Jimmy, you’re home!”

He turned to see his lil bro Roy at the door. Before he could say anything Roy had crossed the room in an instant and hugged his big bro tight.

“RoyBoy! It’s good to see you!”

Roy’s hug was so touching, Jimmy couldn’t be mad at him for taking his old room. Roy’s head was plastered against Jimmy’s t-shirt and his sweaty arms wrapped around his chest.

“But, man, lil bro. You stink!”

Roy let go of his tight hug and looked up into his big bro’s eyes. His face was sweaty and his brown hair was soaked.

“Ugh, I know, sorry Jimmy. I just ran all the way from Cindy’s.”

Cindy’s place was at least six miles from here. “What were you doing there?”

“We’re doing a school project together.”

Jimmy frowned. “But she’s a senior.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have heard. I’m skipping Grade 11. That shit was just too easy for me.”

“Language, RoyBoy!” Jimmy was amazed and proud of his lil bro’s news, but he’d never known him to swear.

“Haha Jimmy you’re funny. You look good, big bro, you still working out?”

Jimmy laughed. “Of course, kiddo, it’s a lifestyle y’know.”

“Show me, big bro!” Roy gripped Jimmy’s right upper arm and squeezed.

“Oww, quit it!”

“Sorry big bro, did that hurt?”

Jimmy pulled his arm way. “Of course not, smelly! I just wasn’t flexing.” Jimmy put his hand around his lil bro’s arm. He could still make his fingers touch. “And I thought you were going to put on some muscle yourself while I was gone. You slacking, lil bro?”

“As if, big bro. It’s just that…”

In a flash, Roy pulled off his red t-shirt.

“…I wasn’t flexing!”

Jimmy stepped back and looked at his lil bro. He still looked skinny, but it almost looked like he had abs now. Then Roy flexed his arms and the muscles popped out.

Jimmy smiled. “Good for you, bro, you got little biceps!”

Roy grinned. He relaxed his arms and then flexed his right biceps right in Jimmy’s face. Was it Jimmy’s imagination or did it peak a little higher? “Feel it bro.” Roy said, excited.

Jimmy hesitated. The stench from Roy’s armpit, which had a tangle of dark hair in it now, was overpowering. “Nah, man.”

Roy suddenly looked angry. “I said feel it!” His voice this time was deeper, and insistent.

Jimmy immediately put his hand to his lil bro’s arm.

“What the fuck.”

Roy smirked. “Language, Jimmy.”

“Dude that is solid as a rock.” Jimmy couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Though it was small, Roy’s arm was all hard muscle. He couldn’t so much as dent the peak of the little biceps with his fingers.

Roy raised at eyebrow at Jimmy’s efforts. “Try both your hands.”

“Smartass!” Jimmy brought his other hand up, and pushed both his thumbs into the top of the muscle, while gripping the rest of his arm with his fingers. But Roy didn’t cry out as Jimmy expected. He just grunted and flexed harder, his face reddening. Jimmy started to sweat from the effort of trying to crush his lil bro’s muscle with both hands. Finally he felt a cramp in his hand and stopped.

Roy beamed while Jimmy shook out his hand. “I told you I was gonna make you proud, big bro!”

“That’s pretty great, bro.“ Jimmy said weakly. “You know, I’m beat after that long drive, let’s catch up more in the morning.”

Roy’s face broke out into a grin. “Sure thing, Jimmy! Let me take your bag to the guest room.” Roy dropped his t-shirt amid the smelly detritus on the floor and picked up Jimmy’s big duffel bag with one arm. He hauled it over his shoulder, and turned back to his brother. Now Jimmy could see he had triceps and well as biceps, and his dark pit hair was shiny with sweat from his six mile run. From my ex’s place. Jimmy remembered.

Jimmy gulped. “Thanks bro.”

Roy crossed the hall and opened the door to his old room, which their mother had done up as the guest room. Jimmy stepped in and frowned. The whole bedroom was pink. “Are we getting a little sister, or something, bro?”

Roy laughed. “Naw big bro, Mom just went a little overboard with the re-decorating.” He tossed Jimmy’s duffel bag on the taffeta bedspread. “See you in the morning big bro, sweet dreams.”

“Thanks bro, it’s good to be home.”

The door closed and Jimmy looked around the utterly unfamiliar room.

He took off his t-shirt and sniffed at the pits. Despite eight hours sweating in the car all he could smell was his deodorant. Then he put his nose lower down the side of the shirt where Roy had hugged him with his sweaty arms.  The stench was awful.

Jimmy looked up and and said out loud:

“What the fuck is happening?”

Jimmy insisted to his family that he was “too busy” to make it home for his lil bro Roy’s sixteen birthday, and made the same excuses for Thanksgiving. It was only on the long drive home for Christmas break that he really thought about the Columbus Day weekend visit and what it meant to him. He had always been the Golden Child in the family. First born, a good-looking athletic blond kid who grew up to be a handsome leader and Prom King in high school. Then to find coming home after only six weeks away to see his lil bro had taken over his old bedroom, and was spending time with his ex-girlfriend. Even if it was just for a school project, that seemed awkward, and Cindy had completely brushed him off when he’d tried to contact her. Admittedly, Jimmy had dumped her, so he had no right to expect she come running when he called. But, Jimmy had never begged a girl for sex in his life; he had sex thrown at him almost daily by horny undergraduates.

And then there was that weird thing with Roy’s hard little biceps. Jimmy had gone around to all his gym buddies after he got back to campus and made bets that he could crush their biceps. Most of them he could make cry out in pain with just one hand, let alone two hands, and none of their muscle felt as diamond hard as Roy’s had felt. The whole thing still weirded him out two months after the fact.

As he pulled into his suburban neighborhood, off the main road, his car died. Damn, Jimmy thought, this visit is off to a great start. After the long drive, he didn’t want to have to deal with tow-trucks and mechanics tonight. He phoned his Dad and asked him to come down the road and help him push the car the half-mile or so to the driveway.

“I’ll send Roy,” his Dad said.

“Well, I don’t think Roy’s going to be able…” Jimmy started to reply, but his Dad had already hung up.

Jimmy sat in the car as the temperature within started to drop, with no heater to keep the cold at bay. He began to shiver. Tired, he closed his eyes briefly as he thought. What’s taking him so long?

He was woken up by a rap on the window. Jimmy rolled the window down and his lil bro Roy’s face appeared, with a big smile. Wearing a Santa hat and a ski jacket, he leaned his arms onto the window sill.

“Merry Christmas, Jimmy! What’s up bro? Car trouble?”

“RoyBoy! It’s so good to see you!” Jimmy felt his irritation melting away as he stared at his lil bro. His smile seemed to light up the inside of the car, and Jimmy realized that he’d missed him despite all the weirdness of the last visit. “Yeah, this damn Corolla is on its last legs.”

“What a coincidence, today is leg day!” Roy said, and Jimmy looked puzzled. “Put her in neutral.” Jimmy did so and then reached for the door handle. But Roy put his hand on the sill. “No need, I got this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’ll take the two of us to push.”

“But there’s a turn before we get home, you’ll have to steer.”

“Well then you get in and steer.” Jimmy said, he pulled on the door handle, but the door didn’t budge.

Roy stared at him, smirking. “Bro, I said I got this.”

Jimmy figured the door must be frozen shut. He sat back. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll steer, lil bro.”

Roy went to the rear of the car and Jimmy rolled up the window. He could tell that Roy had grown a little taller since he last saw him, and his face was leaner and more handsome. But even if he’d been working out (”Leg day” he’d said.) he’d never be able to push the car on his own. What was he thinking? Jimmy pulled out his phone to call his Dad again, but stopped dialing when the car started to move.

“I’ll be damned.” he said.

At first the car moved quite slowly, but it began to pick up speed. Jimmy looked behind him but all he could see was the red of the Santa hat. What a goofball, Jimmy smiled. He looked back to the front just in time to see the first turn coming up. He cranked hard on the steering wheel. With no power steering, it took some muscle. Took some muscle, he thought, mentally comparing the task of turning a steering wheel with his brother pushing a ton of steel and glass down a snowy road.

The snowy road. Oh shit. Jimmy realized, there was a stop sign coming up, and there were no power ABS brakes. Roy had got the car going at a good clip, and the brakes would no doubt lock. He tried the brakes, pushing down hard on the pedal, and that was exactly what happened.  Jimmy panicked as the stop sign approached fast, and he saw a speeding truck coming from the left. If they couldn’t stop they’d be t-boned. Jimmy threw himself into the back seat and pounded on the rear windshield to get Roy’s attention. He saw Roy’s face pop up under the Santa hat and then suddenly disappear. In what he thought were his last moments alive, Jimmy was glad that Roy had saved himself.

Then the car stopped dead and the truck roared past.

Jimmy looked out the front windshield and gasped. He opened the car door and jumped out, not sure what he was seeing. Roy was at the front of the car, arms outstretched, hands on the hood, legs bent. He stood up, breathing hard. Jimmy realized with a shock that they were now the same height.

“That was close, huh? Good thing I wore my good boots.” Roy grinned.

Jimmy was stunned speechless. Roy had- had run to the front of the car and stopped it with his bare hands with a truck bearing down on them?  How was that possible?

Roy guided Jimmy back into the front seat. “You’re in shock. Just get in, bro, I’ll take it from here.”  Jimmy sat dumbly in the front seat as Roy pushed the car the rest of the way. When they got to their house, Roy opened the door. “Home sweet home, bro. Does your garage opener still work?” Jimmy nodded silently. Roy reached in his arm and pressed the device clipped to Jimmy’s sunvisor. Jimmy felt like he was sitting in a room in the back in his head and observing what was happening on a TV screen. Roy’s right arm turned the steering wheel and Jimmy was sure he could see the muscles of his arm working under the padding of the ski jacket, but he didn’t see how that was possible. Roy guided the car into the garage of the family home and then offered a hand to his brother.

Jimmy got out and stood in one spot looking around the garage. There was barely room for his car because the rest of the garage was filled with gym equipment. A weight bench, a squat rack, barbells and dumbbells, and lots and lots of iron plates. Roy closed the door and saw his brothers look. “Pretty sweet, huh, bro? Can’t wait until we can get a workout in together.” He slapped his brother on the back and guffawed. “Hey I guess we just did, right bro? I’m sweating like a pig.”

Jimmy huffed his breath, which formed a small cloud in the sub-zero chill. He started to feel a rush of blood to his ears as his brother zipped open his ski jacket and shrugged it off. He was shirtless beneath, and was so perfectly proportioned and shredded that Jimmy didn’t know where to look first. At his broad shoulders with their rounded delts? His pecs, two slabs of muscle like armour plating that were dusted with black chest hair. At his abs, which looked carved from steel?

Then, Jimmy saw it… The sweat from Roy’s exertion pushing the care was evaporating off his astonishing physique, visible in the chilly air of the garage. 

His lil bro was so hot, he was literally steaming.

Roy stood there smiling for a minute until he saw Jimmy’s face, then he reached toward him. “You okay bro?” The motion caused his pectoral muscles to bounce.

“Oh God…” Jimmy said. Then everything went black and he fainted.

Jimmy had reached that point; he had brought his personal trainer Orlando to tears.

 “I don’t know what you want! I’ve trained you for four months and there’s only so much I can do!”

 “It’s not enough! It won’t be enough; I can feel it!” Jimmy raged.

 “You’re more jacked than me! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met! I jack myself raw every night thinking about your golden perfection! What do you want? The angels to weep in envy?”

 Jimmy spat in Orlando’s face and walked away. “Waste of my fucking time and money.”

 But as Jimmy rode in the cab from the airport, he wondered. He felt up the heft of his pecs and the hard roundness of his delts. Would it be enough? He had certainly sacrificed enough. He’d focused so much on working out he’d failed his courses. With all his extra dough gone to supplements and Orlando’s useless personal training fees, he couldn’t afford to re-take his year and had to transfer to the state university and move back home. Meanwhile his brother Roy, and his ex Cindy, had gotten into MIT. He laughed bitterly. Guess I’ll get my room back.

 As the cab pulled up to the family home, Jimmy got out, pulling out his bags. The garage door was open, and he stepped up to edge, but couldn’t bring himself to enter. The man in the garage was repping the bench press with one and a half times Jimmy’s personal best on the squat. Plus there were heavy link chains added to each side of the bar that clinked in the spring air. Jimmy allowed himself to wonder, for a tantalizing few seconds, whether this was a new bodybuilding neighbor, maybe his Mom’s new lover, anybody but the man he knew it exactly to be. Man. Jesus fuck he’s only 16! He watched those pecs, covered in black hair, inflate from thick plates into rounded boulders at the top of the rep. He observed those deep armpits, each with more hair in them than he had on his chest. Yes, a man.

 He turned away from the garage and went in the front door. He dropped his bags, keeping only his laptop bag and went up to the emasculating pink guest room, ignoring his mother’s question: “Jimmy is that you?”

 He opened his laptop and logged into the wifi. He needed answers. Why? He suddenly remembered Abigail, that British chick who constantly talked about literature, and called out his name as she rode his cock. What was it she had said that time after they’d fucked? Something about names? “Names tell you all. Your name it your destiny.” Huh.

 He typed into Google: “Meaning of name Jimmy”

 He squinted at the answer: “Diminutive of James.”

 He typed into Wiktionary: “Diminutive”

Answer: “Extremely small, tiny.” Fuck.

 He typed again: “Meaning of name James”

 “English version of Hebrew Jacob. Examples from history: James the Lesser.”

 He stared blankly at the screen. Eventually he typed:

 “Meaning of name Hebrew Jacob.”

 Answer: “Envious of hairy brother. Heel grabber.”

 Jimmy nodded feeling a sense of relief. He felt his hands tremble as he typed, finally:

 “Meaning of name Roy.”

 ***

 Jimmy stepped into the garage. He stood calmly while his brother Roy rose from the bench. His body unfurled itself in its majesty until he was several inches taller, a foot wider and utterly superior in every possible way. Roy raised his arm to rub his neck as he greeted his bro, now clearly the “lil bro”.

 “Hey bro.”

 Jimmy leaned in slightly and sniffed, absorbing some of his brother’s testosterone funk.

 Then he bent the knee.

 “My king.”

 The End.

[Inspired by @theobromic​‘s amazing commission!]

Hey there! - I was accidentally daydreaming when I was searching for dude ranches, and ever since, this city boy's inbox just keeps piling up with invitations to them. No,no I didn't follow through with any of them, but I've been eying the flyer to visit a rodeo though. I'd love to be a badass cowboy, but I know I would stick out a mile standing next the real deals. Plus, I've been hearing strange rumors about what happens to rodeo protestors who get lassoed in the arena. Fuck it! I'm going!

While it was true that New You Industries was supplying the small, rural farming town of Hayside with special equipment, it wasn’t well known outside of the handful of people running the town’s rodeos. The organization that protested those same rodeos had so far lost two of their members to the town. The group believed them dead or in hiding, perhaps having been threatened. You believed you knew better though. The more bizarre circles you moved in online spoke about rumors of men turned into studs by the full moon, a police force with a seemingly endless supply of handsome, buff cops; and a shady corporation with advanced or even magical technology; but what interested you most was a series of posts claiming that the missing protestors were merely “assimilated” into the town.

There was only one way to find out if this meant what you thought. And so you arrived in the town in time for the next rodeo. Only a dozen locals sat in the arena. Along with a protester, sitting silently in the stands with a placard over their head, perhaps too afraid to vocalize given the mystery surrounding their missing colleagues.

The rodeo proceeded as one typically would, with the townspeople paying both you and the protestor little mind, until the very end at least.

“So, uh, how’d you enjoy tonight’s show?” asked the cowboy in the center of the arena, gesturing at the protestor.

“M- me?” the thin, young man replied.

“Yeah, you. Why don’t you come down ‘ere and tell us all what you wanna say?”

The man shuffled nervously.

“C'mon there, don’t be shy!”

Anxiously, the man got up and made his way to the arena, clearing his throat as he was passed the microphone. He barely got a word out before another handsome strutted out from the passage underneath the bleachers and threw a lasso round the young man’s chest.

“And how’s that, we got another one ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer chuckled as the dozen or so people in seats hollered and hooted, “Let’s get you outta here, city-slicker.”

You watched closely as the protestor was dragged out of the arena. But something was amiss. He thrashed and wriggled strangely and his mouth seemed to slacken. More of his legs appeared to be visible out the ends of his jeans and his arms looked swollen in his shirt. This was your chance, you had to follow, and so you did.

You waited a few minutes as the rest of the crowd filtered out while you slipped down to the arena and through the passageway. Grumbling and moaning echoed down the corridor as you quietly crept closer. Shouts and growls boomed out from behind a half-closed door. You carefully pushed it open before stumbling back at what you saw. The protestor was tied to a pole by the rope he’d been captured with, newly hirsute muscles and lengthy, thick limbs protruding through his slim-cut clothing. Though you never got a very close look at the man earlier, he was easily bigger in every regard than he’d been just minutes ago. Most impressive of all was the huge, hard, slick cock pressed up against his bulging abs, held there by the waist of his increasingly tight jeans.

He tilted his head up at you, breathing heavily with a charming smile on his freshly bearded face. He looked different; sharper, sunkissed, and rugged.

“Holy shit… I was right,” you muttered aloud.

And that’s when you felt a powerful tug around your waist before being smashing into the floor.

“Right about what? You didn’t come here with him, so why are you down here, city boy?”

The voice was deep and serious. You looked upward to see the beautifully rugged rodeo master standing over you.

“I… I want… you to do… that… to me,” you gulped, glancing back at the tied-up protester.

“My oh my, can’t say this has ever happened before,” the studly cowboy chuckled, his sinister tone shifting to one of amusement, “but if you haven’t noticed, it’s already happening.”

Everything had happened so fast that you didn’t even realize that it was rope lasso that sent you hurtling to the ground. It was at that moment you realized you were getting exactly what you wanted.

Sweat pooled onto the concrete floor while you tried to stand up, only to fall to your knees as every bone, tendon, and muscle in your body began to reconfigure. You moaned loud and uninhibited at the feeling of your spine stretching and your legs lengthening wildly. What you hadn’t anticipated is how intensely pleasurable it would feel. It was like every part that grew and shifted brought with it a powerful sexual edging.

“You people normally fight it, but I’m sure you can tell now there’s no point,” the redneck chuckled, tapping his boot against the raging tent in your tightening pants.

You held yourself up by your hands, the rope dangling from your waist against the floor. Arching your back with a groan, your arms grew longer, pushing you further off the floor. You watched in delight at your hands spreading out larger and larger against the dirty ground. The fingers stretched long and thick, the skin on your swelling palms hardening from farm labor.

Upward from your massive hands, your veins began to bulge. Holding yourself up by your trembling arms became easier and easier as your arms inflated with thick, hard muscle, stretching and tearing your shirt. Hair densified across your thickening forearms.

The growth spread through your upper body. Howling in ecstasy you ripped open the front of your shirt with your powerful arms, revealing the rapidly expanding pecs and abs underneath. You rubbed your huge, rough hands along the growing, hairier mounds. Memories flooded your brain, these weren’t the muscles of someone who worked out, these were formed by years of real, hard, manly work.

A sudden and forceful pulling in your feet forced you to flip onto your back as tightness in your shoes intensified. Removing them was no use, they were far too tight now. You could feel your feet mercilessly stretching against their confines until with a shred and a moan of relief, two long, wide, and hairy feet burst forth.

And upward from the huge appendages came more growth, flooding your thighs and calves with hefty, ballooning muscle and thick, manly hair. As your ass pressed outward, hairier and rounder, you felt thoughts of your past life draining away, making way for one of small-town living and honest, hard work. You gave a dumb smile as a short beard spread across your increasingly handsome, rugged face. Your hair became short and maintainable, while also accentuating your manly, country features.

“G- gosh… darn it,” you gasped in a thick, rural accent feeling your cock stretch and swell. You fidgeted with your large, clumsy fingers for the waist buckle on your pants, groaning deeply as you loosened it and allowed the swelling head of your cock to inch further and further out of the pants. You were so close it was almost unbearable. Your hips thrust involuntarily as your member throbbed larger, toward a glorious, thick nine inches; your balls aching as they too inflated. Then, with a gruff cry of pleasure, you came; spewing load after load across the concrete and marking the conclusion of your metamorphosis.

The cowboy, who had stayed to watch the entire process, helped you to your feet. The rope around your waist morphed as you rose, replacing your old belt with one significantly larger. Your pants morphed into tough, worn boot-cut jeans while the huge feet protruding out of the front of your shoes were quickly covered as the tattered remains shifted into a pair of size fifteen boots. Your torn shirt similarly repaired itself, though dirtier and muskier with a plaid pattern.

“Welcome to Hayside, rancher,” the rodeo master said, “You ready to get to work?”

Everything seemed like a distant memory now, you knew this was all brand new, but it also seemed so familiar.

“Yessir,” you uttered, your charming smile shining through your new beard.

Nerd to Dumb Jock

Chad was extremely smart. He was straight and was prettty small for his age. His father was just the dumb sexy quarterback and his mother was just the sexy lady with the big tits that is why his father loves her. They were disappointed in chad for not following in his fathers footsteps of being the quarterback and being laid on sexy women. They always made fun of chad for being really ugly to this family.

But when Chad was at school it was worse. All the bullying would make depressed and the bullies would make him do their homework with no price. All the teachers would even be mad sometimes when Chad corrected them. The terrible thing that would get him bullied was reminding the teacher of a test or homework.

Till that stupid day changed all of it. Chad was starting to get used to being bullied, but it that one day ticked him off. Chad was completely straight and the quarterback named Abe has started a rumor of how Chad was gay. Even though Chad was upset that it turns out Abe was the one that was gay because Chad was in the bathroom and he opens the door to a stall and saw Abe Jerking off to gay porn, now Chad has to keep it a secret or else he will be bullied this life will be ruined.

Chad was confused by why he had told this rumor, even though he has never told Abe’a secret if being gay. Chad went to Abe after his final class. He asked why he had done that at first, but then he just started laughing about how he just did it for fun and even if he told every he was gay they would believe you. Chad became upset and this where his life changed forever. Chad started to tell Abe ”you big shit, fuck you, you are just a big dumb jock, you think your cool for being the quarterback and your just scared to tell every you gay like the pussy you are.”. The next he saw before getting knocked out was Abe’a big hand coming towards his face.

All you now know now that this was all Chad’a fault for what happens to himself. Of course, the first he saw that Chad was in a chair with rope tied around his arms. He could feel the sweat run down his face. The cool breeze didn’t help the heat. He looked up to the darkness. Chad began to become scared as he saw a dark shadow coming towards the light and with every foot step made his heart beat quicker, so the dark creature went into Chad without a chance.

The next thing that happened was his body grew the rope tighten harder as his arms grew bigger stronger and bigger, his clothes morphed big, but soon abs grew on Chad and he couldn’t help but moan. He couldn’t resist the crature making him bigger and stronger. His cock grew bigger and so did his legs his mind dumbed down faster as he couldn’t remember his past life, then seconds flashed as he started to become the dumb jock Abe it turns out Abe wanted his to suffer like him, a hot sex toy that everyone thinks is dumb

The next thing was that his face was growing a soft beard. It was so hot alover he couldn’t resist. He sumbited each time. Submit and submit. Nothing was left for an option. So Chad now Abe fell tired and fell asleep. Soon he woke in his bed next to a hot Female he looked at her and it turns out Abe was gay and he looked at the girl as it faded awayed to become a hot sweaty masking man. It turns out some of him changed, but not all. But his curse was that he would be dumber then Abe and now he has to face the difficult of wearing a shirt that said dumb jock and so did all his shirts and he wasn’t aloud to gain any knowledge.

But let’s just say he has muscle and all the dudes right?

TheBurdenBorne Archive

Hi all! Thanks to efforts by @masterwolftfs I have managed to recover even more of TheBurdenBorne's (DeviantArt) old stories!

Below will be a huge index compiled by @imsrtman of most of the titles of TheBurdenBorne's written works.

What I have already posted on Tumblr will clickable on the list.

Similarly, anything marked with an asterisk means that I have a copy of it and will post it soon. I also have some stories that I'm not sure what the title is of so I'll need help with that as well.

As for the remaining entries on the list:

Please send me a DM if you have any of the stories that are not marked or posted yet! I

It does not matter if you only have say part 4 or part 2. If everyone contributes parts here and there we can recover most of it!

(All the stories are sorted from A-Z ascending)

Unknown:

Story 3

Story 4

Uncategorized:

Dog Tags

Hypnotizing Young Bro

Jock boy is hypnotized

Man's Best Friend

Missing Dick

Sculpted

Tailgating

Trash

Series: Black Power

Black Power Ch. 1

Black Power Ch. 2

Series: College Camp

College Camp Part I

College Camp Part II

College Camp Part III

College Camp Part IV

Series: Dancing Bears

Dancing Bears No 1

Dancing Bears No 2

Dancing Bears No 3

Series: Daydream Age

Daydream Age 13

Daydream Age 23

Daydream Age 33

Daydream Age 43

Daydream Age 43

Series: Enrollment Week

Enrollment Week 1 (Garrett-POV)

Enrollment Week 2 (Garrett-POV

Enrollment Week 3 (Garrett-POV)

Enrollment Week 4 (Louis-POV)

Enrollment Week 5 (Carl POV)

Enrollment Week 6 (Wesley POV)

Series: Extra Curricular

Extra Curricular: Filmmaking

Extra Curricular: Metals

Extra Curricular: Woods

Series: For Him

For Him Part One

For Him Part Two

For Him Part Three

For Him Part Four

For Him Part Five

Series: Manual Labor

Manual Labor Client One

Manual Labor Client Two

Manual Labor Client Three

Manual Labor Client Four

Series: One Fad Fits All

One Fad Fits All: Biker Chic

One Fad Fits All: Bodyguard

One Fad Fits All: Cowboy Up

One Fad Fits All: Lumbersexual

One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys

Series: Ostello della moda

Ostello della moda: Antonio

Ostello della moda: Bruno

Ostello della moda: Christofano

Ostello della moda: Diego

Ostello della moda: Eduardo

Series: Pokémon Go Team Green

Pokémon Go Team Green: Battle

Pokémon Go Team Green: Captured

Pokémon Go Team Green: Hatched

Pokémon Go Team Green: Traded

Series: Primal Instincts

Primal Instincts: A Bit Overbearing

Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs

Primal Instincts: Monkey Around

Series: Product Placement

Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer

Product Placement: Free trial Attraktion Kondom

Product Placement: Free wax and hair removal

Product Placement: Subway sleeper

Product Placement: Wet Dreams

Series: Roommate Needed

Roommate Needed One

Roommate Needed Two

Roommate Needed Three

Roommate Needed Four

Roommate Needed Five

Roommate Needed Six

Roommate Needed Seven

Series: Selfie Seduction

Selfie Seduction Interlude

Selfie Seduction Part 1

Selfie Seduction Part 2

Selfie Seduction Part 3

Selfie Seduction Finale

Series: The Collector

The Collector Part 1: Auction

The Collector Part 2: Acquisition

The Collector Part 3: Audition

The Collector Part 4: Abduction

Series: The Modern Man

The Modern Man-Step 1

The Modern Man-Step 2

The Modern Man-Step 3

The Modern Man-Step 4

The Modern Man-Step 5

The Modern Man-Step 6

Series: Uber Men

Uber Men 1

Uber Men 2

Uber Men 3

Uber Men 4

Uber Men 5

(Total amount not verified)

You'd found the tracksuit while looking on Vinted for new clothes, and had to have them. They were cheap too, so it just made sense to you to buy them, and the horny feeling you got just looking at the picture of them was enough to convince you.

A few days later and they arrived, and you were more than eager to try them on. As you slipped them on, you could feel your cock hardening, stiffening in the trackie pants that youd decided to go commando in. You gave your cock a quick tug, then slipped the hoodie on, caving into the urge to wear it without a shirt. The clothes smelled of sweat and cheap lynx deoderant, which youd noticed when opening them, but the scent was stronger now you wore them, invading your nostrils and overpowering all other smells in your room.

It was driving you insane, making your brain fog and lose focus, you smelled like a lad, a chav, and it was great. What you didn't realise, lost in pleasure, eyes closed and hands feeling up your body, was that you were growing. Your muscles becoming more lean, your height increases to a solid 6 feet, and a beard growing in on your face. Your bones were becoming more angular, cutting a hard jawline, and making you have a more tough, chavvy look. A tattoo was forming on the back of your right hand, and your hair was shortening into a cut more befitting of you new form. As you fondled your cock it grew, resting at a solid 7 inches with the foreskin back, uncut. Your balls felt full and heavy, and you could smell the combination of the musk, deoderant, and smell of smoke that now came from your body as well as the clothes. It was overwhelming you, making you blank and docile as it reworked your mind. New thoughts were seeping in, dumber, hornier thoughts, of how hot you were and how much you needed a cig.

Memories were seeping in too, of playing footie with your mates, or running an only fans, findomming pathetic subs and working out every so often to stay in shape. You were jerking off, waves of pleasure coursing through your being, and those waves carried new language, vocabulary, and a new name. Aaron. That's right, you were Aaron. A propa lad through and through.

Aaron came, soaking his, no your, trackies, and headed out to play footie with your mates, and get some booze on the way, probably nicking the beer like the badass you were.