The Office Was Tense As The News Of Possible Layoffs Started Circulating Around. Mark Sighed As He Sat

The office was tense as the news of possible layoffs started circulating around. Mark sighed as he sat back down in his seat, he played around with his phone for a short time but ended up throwing it back on his desk. He sat around, switching between nervously tapping his fingers on his desk or biting his nails as he glanced back intermittently at the door of his manager. Things didn’t get any better when he saw his annoying coworker, Jason, his attire barely “formal” and heading towards him with a big grin.

“You okay Mark? What’s going on?” asked Jason, Mark rolled his eyes, he couldn’t even tell if he came back from his lunch break or if he just turned up to work and the last thing he needed was to deal with some obnoxious jock.

“I’m fine, just worried about all the layoffs going around,” answered Mark, it took everything in him not to glare as he saw Jason grin.

“Aw man that sucks, well you look like you need to relax,” suggested Jason. “I recently started this server for me and a few friends, just to talk and play stuff together. Why don’t you join?” Mark wanted to say something, but he just found himself nodding. It wasn’t like he had much to do after work anyway and he did get a new console but hardly found any excuse to use it as opposed to trying to focus on doing more work from home. “Cool! So what do you play on?”

Mark had a feeling the next hour was going to be hell to get through.

Later on after work, he found himself thankful that he still had a job, but wanting to kick himself for agreeing to play with Jason today. He didn’t even take the time to change out of his clothes, still dressed in his office shirt and suit pants as he sat down and switched on his console, toying around with his console and getting used to the controller once again. He cringed slightly as he saw Jason’s invite appear on screen and he put on the headset before joining, hearing Jason’s voice.

“Hey there bro, how are you doing?” came Jason’s voice, Mark saw that there were a couple others that joined the lobby.

“I’m doing okay Jason, thanks,” replied Mark.

“Hey Jason, who’s this?” came a voice almost as obnoxious sounding as Jason’s. Mark wondered why these people sounded the same and as he tried to introduce himself, he was interrupted.

“Oh hey Scott! This is Mark, he’s a friend from work. Yeah, I recently started going gym with him and thought he should hang out with us here,” said Jason. Mark immediately furrowed his brows. He was a pretty healthy guy but he had never gone to the gym or with Jason. “Isn’t that right Mark?

“Uhh…” Mark started, for some reason he found the right words hard to come by as he suddenly grunted at the feeling of his own shirt starting to feel too tight. His own hand began unbuttoning his office shirt, fanning himself as Mark’s torso began to grow more muscular, beginning to spill out of the shirt and causing some of the last buttons to tear themselves off. Mark blinked, unable to process what was happening and feeling like he was in some sort of dream as he looked down at his torso.

His chest pushed out, his upper chest suddenly developing pecs that bounced as they fell forward after their surge of growth, both his nipples enlarging as blonde hairs began to replace his own darker chest hair. The hairs travelled down forming a treasure trail as Mark felt his lower chest suddenly begin to house a set of picturesque six pack abs.

“You okay there Mark?” asked Scott, as a final tear came about as the last of Mark’s office shirt tore away to allow his much larger body to be free as his back started to stretch as he sat up, causing him to grow taller by every second.

“Yeah uhh I just feel-”

“Oh I’m sure he’s fine, probably just stretching. We even went to the gym today, working on biceps,” interrupted Jason. Each part of his torso seemingly bloated as Jason went on and on about their gym routine and Mark simply shrugged his shoulders as his arms were the next to expand, widening as his hands grew to get a firmer grip on the more familiar feeling controller. It felt as if coming home from work or gym to spend time playing with Jason was the norm as Mark’s growing fingers wrapped around the controller and he only just noticed he was mindlessly playing a game with Jason and his buddies. “How are you feeling Mark?”

I feel weird, Mark wanted to say.

“I’m good man,” replied Mark as he felt one hand coming to his crotch, adjusting it as his bulge began growing in his own pants, beginning to feel his calves and thighs threaten to burst his pants.

“Yeah we’ve been working on his quadriceps and stuff too,” assured Jason, Mark kicked off his shoes, almost drooling as his eyes were glazed over and playing the game with no real focus and no attention to his changing body. As his feet began to grow, Mark began to feel all his focus and passion to work and the office shrinking. He found himself still adjusting on his seat as his legs continued to grow more muscular as he scratched at his blonde facial hair that continued to grow and spread around his chiselled jaw. “Mark do you wanna meet at the gym later?”

As Mark stifled a groan from the feeling of his larger throbbing crotch, he felt his changing face. His nose shrank. his eyes blinked and became blue, no longer needing his glasses which he tossed away and his neck thickened to allow a deeper voice to sound out of his thinner and smaller lips.

“Yeah bro that’d be great,” said Mark. He almost sounded exactly like Jason and his friend Scott now as he looked down at himself. “Give me a minute.” The dedicated office worker was now a more relaxed gym bro and as he stepped away to go change into some clothes when he realised he was almost naked except from some tight fitting underwear.

Nonetheless Mark decided not to wear too much, he enjoyed feeling and being able to look down to see his muscular body, and he couldn’t believe it when he thought that he couldn’t wait to go to the gym to hang out with his bro.

The Witch's Transformation (part 1)

Happy Friday the 13th

Alex, an out-of-shape nerd, receives an unexpected invitation to a party that leads him to the lair of an evil witch. After pleading for mercy, he undergoes a shocking transformation that turns him into a muscular and handsome giant, ready to serve her every whim. With his new physique and confidence, Alex embraces his role.

Alex was often alone in the small town he lived in, spending most of his time studying and playing video games.

Despite his usual routine, Alex was excited when he received an invitation to a party. He was eager to socialize and make friends.

Upon reaching the address, Alex found himself standing in front of an old, creepy house. He was confused but decided to check inside.

Inside, he was met with an old woman, who was the only person in the house. To his surprise, the woman was a witch and she was not happy with his intrusion. Ripping his clothes off.

Alex begged for his life. The witch, however, had an idea. She decided to transform Alex, as a punishment and also to serve her needs.

The witch cast a spell and Alex's body started to grow. His muscles bulged, and he grew taller. He had transformed into a huge, muscular man.

Alex was surprised but also happy with his new size. He felt powerful and was sill growing strong to serve the witch.

The witch handed Alex a tight Speedo to wear, his new uniform. It showed off his new physique well. He was now the witch's servant.

The witch used her magic to make herself young and beautiful. She was now a stunning woman that would have her way with Alex.

Alex was happy to serve. He lived with the witch, serving her and living a life he never thought he would.

Locked in the Laundry Room

The Origins of Heir

I was so excited to spend a week alone in the city.

For my recent eighteenth birthday, my parents agreed to give me a week and let me explore the nearby city and check out the university I had been longing to attend every since I was little. My favorite cousin, who was a few years older, volunteered to give me a tour on the first day I was there, and the rest of the time was mine to spend on my own. I was so excited, I almost jumped out of my seat when I drove out of my driveway Sunday night.

My cousin and I were best friends from almost as early as I could remember. The two of us were inseparable, and decided when we were older to be partnering doctors. After a few years passed, my cousin flew right out of high school into my dream college. Now a few years later, I was on the same path. Both of us had 4.0’s going into senior year, and I know I could last a little longer.

I was so excited to spend a day with my cousin, but also a week alone. My parents had promised that they would leave me alone and that there wouldn’t be any check-ins or “unplanned” surprises. I was always set on a straight path towards becoming a doctor, so I was usually by myself, nose-deep in my studies. I never really had time to make friends or find a girlfriend. I was also fairly average physically, so no one really put in the effort to talk to me unless they wanted to get an A on some group project. Sure, I was lonely every now and then, but it could have been worse. I always was better on my own or with my cousin.

Monday was amazing. My cousin showed me every stadium, classroom, study area… anything the university had to offer. We ate out, chatted about school, and she introduced me to her friends. When the day was over, I was exhausted. I jumped on my hotel bed and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I explored the city’s restaurants, stores, and parks. Lucky for me, there were plenty of great sales and deals only available on that day. Who knew Tuesdays could be special? As I strolled along a path near the downtown area, I realized I had missed something on my tour yesterday at the university. I hadn’t seen any dorms while I was there! I quickly grabbed my phone from my pocket, but realized I shouldn’t text her. It was barely past noon, so I didn’t want to interrupt one of her classes. I thought about what I could do for a moment, and decided I could just find a dorm myself. I ran to a bus stop and jumped on the first ride to the university.

I hopped of the bus and walked to the first dorm I saw: Richardson Hall. Richardson Hall was one of the older buildings on campus, but it was only evident through the slightly faded look on its brown bricks. It was surrounded by oak trees and plenty of students studying and working together on assignments. The building was the only one on campus that hosted students of all ages, but for only males. As I walked closer, I noticed how truly massive it was. It only had five floors, but it looked more like ten as I got closer. I got near the doors and pulled out and fiddled around on my phone, casually waiting for a group of students. I didn’t have a keycard to enter the building, so my great plan was to blend into a group when they entered. I looked at my home screen for a while, which adorned a picture of me and my cousin at a mall. After a few minutes, a group of male students came strolling down the path. As they came up the steps, I quickly added myself in between them and was let inside.

Richardson Hall wasn’t anything special on the inside. Besides it strangely ornate main stairwell, it looked like a normal dorm. I walked around for a bit on the different floors, looking into different people dorms as I strolled by. One of the perks of looking ordinary is that you can drift by without anyone taking too much notice. After about an hour of just hanging around the dorm, I decided it was time to head back to the hotel. As I walked back to the stairwell, I noticed something peculiar. There was a small sign with the words, “LAUNDRY ROOM” in huge letters, and with it a small arrow pointing up. For some reason, I found this amusing. I was on the fourth floor, so that meant that the room was on the top floor. I’d never hear of a laundry room not in the basement, so for some reason I felt like I ​had ​to see this.

Once I got to the top of the stairs, I followed the signs that led me down an old hallway. At the end there was an old brown door that was just barely open. I opened it and was surprised to see a second door. This door was white, with a glass looking into the room. I would’ve just looked through the window and left, but it was made with the kind of glass that was more of a faded white than clear. I slowly pushed the door open and entered.

The laundry room was really nothing special. The room wasn’t too big, and it seemed even smaller due to the amount of washing machines and dryers. There was a skylight above me, flooding sunlight into the room and providing a little natural heat. After I saw the cheap flooring and the soft-colored walls, I decided the room wasn’t as fun as I thought it might be. The only strange thing about it was the smell, or, lack of. I was expecting to be blasted with some sort of detergent-soapy aroma, but instead it was quite stale.

As I inspected the room, I noticed there were two others in the room. They were whispering to each other, but I don’t think they had noticed my presence. The first thing I noticed about them was that they were ​built.​ Both of them were stacked with muscle, and they didn’t try to hide it much either. Their clothes were a little more revealing than I was comfortable with. One was carrying a sports-related bag, while the other was putting laundry in the dryer. They were probably some cocky football jocks or some stereotype to that.

The one said something to the other one with the bag, nodding and smirking, and then patting him on the back. The one with the bag began walking towards me, seeing me for the first time. He wore a tight, light and dark gray striped tee shirt and a pair of too-skinny skinny jeans. His short, dirty-blond hair brought out is kind smile as he walked closer to me, his large fleet clomping.

“See ya, Mark!” he said, his cologne wafting past me as he stomped by. By the way he walked, he was definitely confident with himself. His stride was so powerful that I felt a small breeze ruffle my shorts when he walked past. “Mall in two hours, bro!”

“Sounds good, Easton!” Mark said, still at the laundry machine. I heard Easton walk out and shut the first door behind him quietly.

“Hey, bro,” Mark said, walking forward to me, “I’m Mark.” He extended a meaty paw towards me. “Oh, hi,” I said, looking over him and extending a hand, “I’m John.” I winced a little as we shook hands. I had underestimated how strong he was. His whole body was covered in a tan that showed hours spent in the sun. I started at his chest, because sadly that was eye-level. Mark was wearing a university tee that was at least a size too small. His biceps and pecs were nearly bursting, but his jean shorts were somehow even tighter. The jean shorts barely covered half of his muscled, hairy thighs, and it was obvious by his pronounced bulge that he wasn’t packing light. After drifting my eyes past his hairy calves, I saw his huge feet, which were covered by a pair of old athletic socks and some very worn-down Nike’s. Their bright red color hadn’t survived very long, and it was now faded under a soft layer of dirt. I craned my neck past another pronounced bulge, now in his neck, and looked more closely at his face for the first time. He had a very masculine and sharp jaw, and his hair was messily styled in a way that worked with the whole “football jock” look. The last thing I noticed was his beard, which I was immediately jealous of. A beard like that was hard to grow, and it probably showed more pride than his own pride, if you get what I’m going for.

The whole time I was looking him over, he was inspecting me to.

“You’re not a student, are ya, bro?”

“No, I’m just touring,” I said, a little neglected.

“Well, this is great school! We have some of the best sports around the nation… and best professors,” he quickly added, remembering who he was talking too.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied, already knowing both.

“Well, I gotta head out, but it was nice meeting ya, bro!” Mark smiled and patted my shoulder as he walked past me. I heard him walk over to the door and grab the handle. Mark fiddled with it for a second and groaned. He grabbed it again, a little more vigorously and a little less patiently, and tried to open it, but to no use. I turned to see Mark looking at me; he was angry over something.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing, “my bro, Easton, he accidentally locked the door.”

I stood there, puzzled, “How?”

“The first door is always supposed to be left open because it locks on its own. That doofus closed it.” Mark took a deep breath, but he was obviously pissed. “Ya got your phone on you?” “Yeah one…” I began, but as I reached down into my pocket, my hand felt nothing. I tried again, but it was still empty. I reached into another pocket, and still came out with nothing. After about a minute of searching, Mark stopped me.

“So ya don’t got your phone, and mine’s charging in my room. Great.” Mark walked past and sat down, resting his back on a washing machine. I walked around to where he was sitting, placing myself opposite of him.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked, sounding ignorant.

“Not really,” Mark replied, “Janitors only come up here on Saturdays, but Easton will probably know I’m missing so hopefully we won’t have to stay too long.” We sat there in silence for a little bit, but then started to talk to keep each other company. I got to learn a ton about Mark. He had always been into sports, especially football, but once he got to college he put his major before sports. According to him, he was luckily​ ​convinced by the school’s head coach, Coach Sorenson to continue football and join the team. At first, Mark was reluctant, but as soon as he joined he knew it was the right choice. Mark also talked about the lack of numbers on the team, and how he had an idea to get them back up. He had pitched the idea to Coach Sorenson, and it was so good that he offered Mark a job after he graduated next year as Assistant Coach. Mark agreed and immediately changed his major from Business to Physical Education.

“Bro, I was so nervous about switching, I mean, I’m one of dumbest people I know.” Mark chuckled at his own joke. It was a slow, emptier laugh.

“At least I’m not as stupid as Easton, though!” Mark added. We both laughed at that real hard. We sat there for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, before Mark spoke again.

“Hey, bro, would ya be alright if I take of some of my clothes?” Mark asked. During the whole conversation, I hadn’t even noticed the heat. The room was boiling. There was no air conditioning, and skylight was still shining light into the room, making it much hotter than comfortable.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, removing my own sweater. I now noticed the sweat stains scattered along my shirt. Mark carefully removed his own shirt, carefully. It was soaked through with sweat and stuck to his chest like another skin. As he pulled it off, I got a full look of his torso. I was a little jealous before, but now I was bursting with envy. His chest was perfectly defined; it was what every man wanted but couldn’t have. It was hairless, unlike the rest of his body, but you could see every ab and muscle. I was definitely straight, but this truly tested my sexaulity.

The whole time I was gawking at his chest, I didn’t notice him toss his shoes and socks next to me. The smell of his feet instantly filled the hot and stale room, making it so steaming that it brought me out of my trance.

“Size 15,” he proudly stated, smirking, ”biggest on the team.”

I looked at his huge feet, and then at his huge shoes. They reeked so much that it was making me a little dizzy. Then, I noticed another scent begin to fill the room, and for some reason it was familiar. I tried to find the source, and Mark took notice of me immediately.

“Oh, that?” he asked, his smirk grew a little wider as his tone became a little more menacing, “that’s the smell of my cologne: Heir.”

Mark took a little bottle out of his pocket with the word “HEIR” written in big, messy letters. He then put the bottle away and casually lifted both of his arms placed them behind his head. He fully exposed his armpits to me, which were filled jungles of wiry hairs. All the hairs that should’ve been on his chest were obviously there. I then realized why the scent was familiar; I had smelt it on Easton as he left.

“Remember the idea I had talked about earlier, bro?” Mark smiled as he scooted towards me. The scent of his shoes and cologne were making it hard to concentrate.

“When I was taking my Business major, right before I switched to Physical Education, I took a class on funding. An assignment was to fund a new and upcoming company. I stumbled upon a tiny company that made personalized scents located a few miles from here. I brought an idea to Coach about making some colognes, and he approved of it. See, together we made a cologne for all the football jocks to wear, that way we could recruit new players.”

I tried to understand what he was saying, but the two scents were blinding my other senses from working properly. Mark scooted again so he could sit next to me. He slowly took my head and placed it on his crotch with my facing up. He then brought one of his armpits down to my face and uttered a simple command.

“Sniff.”

In my state of confusion, I immediately complied. I began to sniff, at first tentatively, but after a while more confidently. After sniffing his armpit for a little bit, I began to moan as the effects of the cologne set in.

It started with my height. My legs and torso began to stretch to each new breath I took. I felt new muscles tense and release as I got to a height a little over 6’2”, which was a little under Mark’s 6’4”. The next thing I felt was my chest begin to expand. Each new breath made my torso rise a little more. Hard pectorals began to slowly develop, pushing their way into the open. A cobblestone path began to appear as my non-existent abs began to form from thin air. Next were my legs. I groaned a little as my quads began to tense into solid muscle, perfect for the running I’d be doing every day. As soon as my thighs were done pumping up, my calves followed. My calves became meatier, with solid muscle adding itself on top of more muscle. I felt my butt plump up a little too, becoming bubblier.

My arms followed quickly after. Years and years of training kicked into my arms to make them better for throwing and tackling. My biceps and triceps inflated like little balloons, and my hand beefed up to make it easier to catch the ball and high-five my bros. As soon as my hands were done swelling, my feet kicked into gear. My feet, which were already pushed away due to my new legs, began to expand. I could feel my toes slowly move farther and farther towards the ceiling from the floor, until they themselves plumped up. New veins appeared over my feet, giving them a truly masculine look.

“Size 14,” Mark said, admiring my feet as I continued smelling his armpit, “good for you.”

For some reason, it felt good to know that Mark was happy with me. I kept sniffing and felt my neck expand. My moans began to grow deeper and emptier; my voice sounding dumber with each new breath. By the time my neck was finished transforming, my voice sounded almost identical to Mark’s and Easton’s; a now truly sounded like a football jock. My neck was followed up by my head. I quickly dug my head deeper into the dense forest that was Mark’s armpit, trying to help progress the change. My head began to stretch longer. I felt my cheekbones move up and my chin push down, causing my cheeks to suck themselves in. My hair began to turn blond, cutting the sides and growing out on top. As soon as it stopped growing, it coiffed itself up. My nose shrank a little and my lips grew a little wider, and my eyes tooks on an vacant shade of blue.

“Here comes the best part, bro,” Mark said anxiously, pushing me even deeper into his armpit, “this is where the name comes from.”

I sniffed passionately, wanting whatever Mark was so eager about. Suddenly, I began to feel rather itchy across my entire body. I tried to squirm, but I realized that smelling Mark’s armpit was more important. As I gave my full attention to sniffing, I realized I had hair growing all over my body. Blond hairs were heavily covering my legs, arms, butt… there was hair everywhere. There was hair on the tops of my feet, a new bush in my pouch, and my armpits looked like a blond version of Mark’s. The only place where there was an absence of hair was my chest. Once the hair stopped growing, I began to produce my own, pungent body odor. It was then I realized what Mark meant. The cologne was named Heir, but everytime he had pronounced it as “Hair.”

Mark then lifted me out of his armpit and turned me around to face him. I was still a little dazed, but I was coming back to my own consciousness.

“The cologne isn’t the only thing the company makes.” Mark reached past me and grabbed one of his shoes, he pulled out a faded, slightly wet shoe sole. “They also make scented shoe soles.” I was still confused, the smells hadn’t worn off.

He explained further, “The cologne does the physical work, but we have to make sure ya also become a team player mentally. These were a little harder to afford, and they come with some side effects, but bro, it’ll make ya into what you’re supposed to be.”

“Wha… side effects?” I was finally coming back, my head starting working as thoughts came back. I began to realize the danger I had been in all along.

“Oh, nothing,” Mark grinned, bringing the huge boat to my face, “let’s just say that you’ll truly be a bro. You’re gonna be as bright as Easton and have the libido of frat president.”

Mark shoved my head into his shoe, and right as I came out of my state of confusion, I was shoved back in. I began to sniff again, feeling my mind replace itself. Memories of my family and high school began to disappear. My loneliness was replaced with tons of friends, girlfriends, and secret relationships with other bros. My new family was more athletic, with my parents both being high school coaches. Memories of being alone with my cousin were now replaced with drunken homecoming bashes and late night bangs. As I sniffed Mark’s shoe, I realized this was all true. I had ​always dedicated myself to sports, and if I had always dedicated myself to sports, that means I would’ve had no time for an education. All my intellectual thoughts and ideas began to flow down through my system, all the way down into my pouch. My balls began to expand, churning my own intellect into pure, jock testosterone. They got bigger and bigger, slowly reaching the size of two tennis balls. My 4.0’s slowly became B’s, which dragged into C’s, and in turn dragged into barely even graduating. I remembered the only reason I had gotten into college was a football scholarship.

Memories of college began to flow in as well. For some reason, I’d thought I was touring as a future student, but I remembered that I was already a student here. I was in my third year of my Exercise Science major to become a physical trainer. I remembered the countless parties that had been hosted at my frat, the multiple professors I’ve had “extra-credit seminars” with, and when my main bros Mark and Easton helped me discover I wasn’t actually straight. After that, we shared so many brojobs and “study-halls” together. I remembered the countless games my football team had won, and how good I felt whenever I could please my coach, Coach Sorenson, or my broski Mark. Sure, I was very close to dropping out of college, but I remembered that as long as I did what Coach Sorenson told me, I would graduate.

Mark began whispering commands to me, edging me on to a spectacular release. He told me how it had always been this way, how I always had this perfect life, how all I needed to do was smell the shoe and release. I kept getting closer, feeling my average member get longer and longer until it reached a permanent eight inches, just barely shorter than Mark’s. Mark kept whispering into my ear and told me to take a deep breath and hold it. I followed his instructions, taking one more huge breath and sealing my IQ at an eternal 89. Then he whispered one last time in my ear.

“Just do it.”

I did exactly that. Streams of white erupted and spread all over my chest, Mark’s chest, and the pile of ripped clothes around me. My old memories were now gone forever. I was still John, but now as a hot, popular jock who would do anything for his Coach and bros. Now, thanks to Mark, I’ve learned who I truly am. I’m about as bright as best bro Easton and have the libido of frat president, and that’s what I’ve always wanted.

As soon as I snapped back to reality, Mark explained to me that we were just doing laundry and got bored, so he decided to give me a good ‘ole brojob. When I noticed I was naked, I asked where my clothes were.

“In the laundry, bro,” Mark guffawed, “we were doing laundry, remember? Why else would we be in here?”

I gave a dumb, hearty laugh back. He opened a dryer and tossed me a pair of gray sweatpants. I brought them to my nose and took a sniff. Mark, Easton, and I never actually use washing machines, we just throw our dirty clothes into the dryer to amplify the smell of our dirty clothes. If people complained, we’d just apply the football team’s awesome cologne: Heir. I pulled up the sweatpants while Mark put back on his socks and shoes. He pulled his shirt over his head, which now stunk of sweat and cum. We began to walk towards the doors, and suddenly, we both heard a click as the first door swung open. There stood Easton, smiling a dumb grin as he came in.

“Hey broskis!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “You meatheads left your phones in the frat house.”

Easton searched through his bag, handing Mark back his phone before grabbing mine. After getting my phone, I leaned up against a counter and checked looked at my home screen, which was a picture of Easton, Mark, and I at the beach in our speedos.

As I searched my phone, I overheard Mark and Easton talking.

“Has he passed the final test?” Easton whispered.

“Not yet, but I think he’ll pass,” Mark replied back confidently before strolling over to me.

“Hey, John,” Mark said, coming close to me. I could smell him. “Are you missing anything?”

“Uh,” I paused, my empty voice rumbling, “my jock?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I was going for, bro. Commando doesn’t count.” Mark came over and grabbed my accentuated pouch. I loved when he did that. Then I figured out the answer.

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

“Bingo!” Mark said, nodding to Easton.

“Hey bro!” Easton said, coming in to join us, “Where’s your shirt?”

“He was too dumb to notice he was missing it!” Mark laughed, and Easton and I quickly joined in. How could I have been so dumb to forget a shirt?

Easton pulled out a blue sleeveless shirt with the Nike symbol out of his sports bag. I smelled it, and realized it was used. Just how I liked it. He also handed me a pair secondhand of black and gray Nike trainers. I investigated the shoes, looking right at the special soles before I put the shoes on. They looked huge, but fit my feet perfectly.

“I can be so dumb sometimes, bro.” I laughed at myself as I put on my clothes. “Such a meathead.”

“That mean’s your keeping what’s important in mind,” Mark added before also reaching into Easton’s bag. He pulled out a small bottle with a label. I raised my arms, showing off my pits, and Mark sprayed a hefty amount of cologne into the dense hairs. He put the Heir bottle back into Easton’s bag.

“Let’s go, bros!” Mark said, leaving the laundry room, “Don’t want to be late for practice!”

Listen Up: All-American

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-07 by newyoutf ---

Oliver was stressed. The rent on his cramped London studio was a lot, and he couldn’t work enough to cover his costs while completing his studies. His work toward a law degree produced enough mental anguish on its own.

He’d seen the mindfulness CD atop a pile of various used items at an odd store - which seemed to stock all manner of things new, used and downright weird.

For obvious reasons, the record was alluring to Oliver. Anything that might lower the mental burden was an option worth trying. So when the handsome proprietor offered him the disc for less than a quid he couldn’t say no.

The drive buzzed on his desk as the contents were ripped to his computer after a late, stressful night of study. Oliver sat back in his desk chair placed the wireless headphones over his mousy brown hair and opened the resulting file that appeared on his desktop.

“Welcome. This audio program is custom designed. Just for you…”, a deep, manly voice read. Custom designed? The words made Oliver raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “What a load of bullshit", he thought.

“Ensure you are in a comfortable, private place. You will not want to be disturbed… You feel calm. Tranquility and stillness.”

The deep, commanding - and almost erotic voice - continued onward. Suddenly, Oliver felt awash with relaxation.

“Relax, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Focus your concentration on your top of your head, moving down slowly down the tips of your toes. Take in your body.”

Oliver unwittingly obeyed. His eyes shut and, taking a deep breath, he focused on the position of his body in space.

“This… actually isn’t too bad”, he admitted to himself.

“Empty your mind. Focus on the tingling across your skin. A pleasant warmth filling you up.”

Oliver was less impressed about the direction this was going now, was this going to turn into some erotic thing? But, suddenly, he did fill awash with warmth and tingling. Like a hot bath. He was surprised, no calmness app or anything similar had ever achieved this effect with him.

“Focus harder on that warmth and tingle. Make it stronger.”

Oliver sighed, feeling the pleasant sensations fill him up entirely.

“Stronger. Stronger. Stronger.”

The sensations intensified more and more; and although he felt good all over, in his head he began to panic. And so, he fumbled to stop the playback.

*“Keep listening, Oliver. I guarantee you’ll like what you’re going to *hear.”

Oliver’s eyes widened in fear, did the voice just use his name? Was it aware he tried to stop the playback? Surely this was just a co-incidence in the script?

But Oliver realized it was no coincidence when he became unable to click pause, his finger repelling like a magnet from the trackpad.

“You’re gonna to become a real man, Oliver. Like you’ve always wanted. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”

“Ungh… What the f- fuck?!”, Oliver whimpered. The unbearable heat and tingling sensations intensified. Whimpers turned to loud moans as pleasure and testosterone flooded his body, his cock filled with blood and hardened in his tight jeans.

“A real man has huge, muscular arms. Much like you do, Oliver.”

Oliver let out a groan as his upper arms began to match the spoken words and expand. His slim t-shirt’s sleeves strained as muscles began to appear under the skinny arms. They throbbed and wriggled, expanding larger and larger, thicker and thicker.

“Your arms are fucking huge. Every part of them.”

Oliver bit his lip and whimpered as he flexed. The thin twigs that were his upper arms surged and tore the sleeves of the shirt. Individual muscles squirmed and bulged as they reformed large and powerful. His forearms pulsed and ached as they too inflated with muscle. Veins protruded and snaked across the swelling muscle. These arms were huge, muscular machines designed for the gym.

“You’re tall…”

Energy rushed through his body in response to the words, but technically Oliver had always been a relatively tall and lanky 6′0″. So, nothing happened. It was if the recording was teasing him.

“P- please… more…”, Oliver begged. Resisting was never an option to begin with, but Oliver needed no orders to desire what was happening to him. His new arms were a taste of the masculinity he’d always desired, and it felt better than he could have imagined.

“...Really tall…”

“Oh fuuuuuuck yeeeeaaah!”, Oliver yelled. His cock throbbed in his denim while his entire body seared with the bliss of growth. His back pushed up higher and his legs stretched longer out from the chair. The muscular arms elongated as well to keep up, more muscle packing in order to to maintain their size.

“How do you manage to type on this thing with those massive paws?”

“Ahhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”, cracks and pops filled the air as Oliver held out his aching, pulsating hands. His skinny fingers twitched vigorously as they pushed longer and thicker. His palms were being tugged in all directions, stretching further and further outward. The ends of his fingers creaked as they reshaped, the chewed nails regrowing, broadening and elongating. These were indeed a real man’s hands.

“Your chest is fucking ripped. Powerful pecs. Bulging abs. Manly hair.”

Oliver bit down hard. But as his chest and shoulders swelled in every direction, he couldn’t hold it and let out a long whine. Muscle wrapped around the widening shoulders connecting with the stunning biceps. Growth flowed downward, forcing two huge slabs of muscle to grow out of his flat, bony chest. The tightest abs Oliver had ever seen exploded out from below his thick, tight pecs. His cock pulsed as he rubbed the rippling abs. He could feel a treasure trail forming and hair flourishing across the beautiful pecs. His cock tingled as his waist pulsed. Tight cum gutters formed below the glistening abs, leading down to his aching erection.

“Don’t forget your back.”

Oliver hunched forward as the muscle growth swept from his massive shoulders and chest across his back. His bony back rippled and bulged as sinew and muscle swelled.

“Everything about your legs screams power and masculinity. With an ass to match.”

Oliver’s kicked and twisted his legs feeling his thighs balloon with new and growing muscle. The skinny jeans began tearing and splitting at the seams as more and more muscle forced its way outward. His calves did the same, stuffing themselves with more and more power, stretching the fabric to breaking to point. Every muscle in his legs contracted as it swelled and grew. Oliver flexed the legs causing a final burst of growth and shredded the tattered jeans and underwear from his body. His flat ass, now free from its confines, began to inflate dramatically, pushing him upward in his seat.

*“Size 13s must be hard to find…”**

He clenched his mouth shut, muffling a cry as snaps and crackles emanated from the socked feet. His fairly average UK size 9s burned with pressure as the socks began to stretch in an attempt to contain the growing feet. Oliver pressed his feet hard into the floor feeling the soles soaring across the carpet. The toes curled and gripped further and further, lengthening and thickening into 10s, then 11s, 12s… The sound of a tear was met with a moan as unbelievably long, thick, masculine toes jutted through the ends of the socks leaving him with UK size 13s.

“You’re such a looker, Olly.”

Oliver knew what this meant and trembled as he opened the webcam app on his laptop, watching in shock and pure desire at the image of his face moving and shifting. His neck bulged and swelled, the grunts coming from his throat deepening.

His narrow, oval face stretched and snapped wider and longer, enlarging to fit the upper body he now possessed. Oliver rubbed his hard cock as his face began to look more and more masculine. A wide, thick jaw formed where before there was barely one at all. His lips inflated, his nose enlarged and his brow deepened. His hair darkened as it grew out, straightened and flopped messily across the headphones.

“I look… ungh… like a jock!”, Oliver gawked, turned on by his unbelievably hot new visage.

As he muttered those words he gasped repeatedly. Insatiable lust overtook him at watching his gorgeous, masculine face moan. His rigid erection ached and drooled at the sight.

“That cock is just like the rest of you. Oversized.”

Oliver stumbled upright and planted his hands on the desk and began to thrust across the table top as the 5 inch cock commenced its expansion. The continuous ecstasy that had been tearing through him since this started concentrated into his swelling dick.

Oliver’s screams of delight could have woken the dead. He bucked and thrust violently, shaking the desk as the rock hard rod swelled with girth and pushed outward longer and longer.

“You’re a real fuckin’ man. That cock’s designed for topping.”

Thoughts of working out, sports and fucking tight jock asses overwrote the introverted bottom’s personality.

“Not just a real man. You’re an all-American jock.”

Oliver spluttered as his British accent shifted to a distinctly American one. Memories of coming to London for exchange replaced his own. With a blinding flash of ecstasy, his foreskin merged with the now 7 inch shaft, giving Oliver the big, cut, all-American cock he’d always admired.

“Mmmmmphhh… Fuck, yeah dude! I’m… arrruuughh… a fuckin’ jock!”

The shaft surged longer and wider. The head of the oozing cock fattened, expanded and flared outward. A massive, drooling mushroom head formed at the end of the 8 inch dick.

The sweating, horny jock was but a second away from release, worshiping his own body and tightly, furiously stroking his cock. But the audio interrupted…

“I bet those 10 inches are popular online.”

Oliver howled as his encroaching orgasm was prevented. The blissful build up rushed back into his cock as it shot forward in seconds to an enormous, veiny 10 inches. He recalled making good money selling pictures and videos of his hot body and huge dick.

The stud gripped his thick python tight in his meaty hand and stroked fast. The voice on the audio track began to tease Oliver even more than it had been.

“You’re a real man.”

“Huhhh… unnnghhh.. yeah… I am!”

“You’re a fucking alpha.”

“Hnnnnggghh, fuck yeah!”

“Cum, stud.”

With a delightful roar, the beautiful, cut pole shot cum like a hose across his the desk, the wall and over the floor. Then again. And again. And after what felt like an eternity, the muscle stud’s orgasms slowed.

“Remember to share this recording with your friends…”

And on that command, the track ended. Oliver grabbed his phone, his huge hands dwarfing the device as he snapped a photo of his cock and incredible body to post later for his adoring online fans.

Now all the jockified Oliver needed was bros - and with the audiobook he knew exactly how to get them. But who to share it with first? Old friends, a few dedicated online fans maybe...

This is just the start, I suppose.  I resisted for a long time.  Fuck if I wanted to play football, and I definitely didn’t want to be parading around without a shirt like the older teenage guys were doing.

Then puberty hit me like a truck.  Almost overnight, I’m getting this hair in places I never wanted it, even having to shave my face, embarrassed, just like a lot of the guys are, prolly… not sure if I should shave the rest on my body, too… and my dick goes from this normal sized thing, to this protruding snake in my pants.  I mean, seriously, gets long and fat as hell.  So I’ve got this bulge in my shorts, now.  And it gets hard now, just like an adult guy, but I’m only a teenager and bam… I’m creaming loads of sperm into my underwear, I’m jacking off to porn late at night when nobody’s looking.  I tried not to at first, but once I started, pretty soon I was jacking two or even three times a night, staying up real late.  It was cray for sure, even though I knew it was just normal.

Then I get it, you know, the guys I want to jack off to are all the hot jocks, the ones with muscle, the… and I’m getting tall, man.  I keep thinking about how I’m not like that, but then… and they want me to join the team…

So, I go for it.  I can always stop, I tell myself.  But it feels good, doing my first pullup, and when I start to notice the muscle grow, I’m jacking off to my own reflection in the mirror, even.

I buy some new clothes at the mall, just to try ‘em, and it looks good so I decide I’m gonna change my whole wardrobe.  Athletic shorts, started cutting off my sleeves to show off these guns, a gold necklace like a lot of the guys wear, and I’ve gotten comfortable going without a shirt now, even when other people are around.  I mean, why not, I look good, might as well just be myself, you know?

Everything about it turns me on, and I changed so much over the summer that folks even said they really noticed it when I went back this fall, how tall I am, how deep my voice is.  Everybody seems to like me more, too, like I’m more popular and stuff.

So I want to stick with it, really work out hard this year.  Like, i love how I look now, and it makes me want to beat off hard… I can jack in front of the mirror for hours… and sometimes I just imagine how I’ll look once after I really start lifting even more, and I flex, and the pump gets me off.  Plus, someday I can imagine fooling around with another dude for the first time on the DL… and I want to look my best, ya know.  So yeah.

Listen Up: Swimmer

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-21 by newyoutf ---

Jon twisted back and forth under the showerhead, singing along to the music blasting from his phone on the counter.

The music lowered in volume for a second, making way for two loud dings. Jon reached out from the stream of water and fumbled with the screen in his wet hands. It was a message from Oliver, his best friend, “Hey bro, got something you should listen to.”

“Bro?” Jon wondered. Since when did Oliver say “bro”? Jon blinked, struggling to think for a moment. Oliver talked like that all the time, he was American after all... wasn’t he?

Attached to the message was an audio file. Jon figured it must have been a new song by one of the pair’s favorite pop divas, perhaps a new leaked track. Jon hit the play button, placed the phone back down, and returned to the hot water.

A harsh static buzz and what sounded like garbled speech boomed from the phone, taking Jon by surprise. The corrupted audio cleared up after a moment and a deep, male voice started.

“Welcome. This audio program is custom designed. Just for you. Ensure you are in a comfortable, private place. You will not want to be disturbed.”

“Oliver,” Jon rolled his eyes, thinking that surely something starting this ridiculous would be some sort of joke or meme. After all, Oliver had always been a dumb joker. “Wait,” Jon felt confused, he could have sworn Oliver was a quiet, twinky lad like himself?

Jon realized couldn’t form a solid impression of his friend in his mind. They met at their university in London and became best friends, bonding over their mutual love of pop music and ogling the campus jocks. But now it was like that reality had been shattered. Those memories gave way for ones of meeting each other at the campus gym shortly after Oliver arrived from the US. Oliver was his best, hot, American friend, right? Jon’s cock twitched at the new image of his friend as he placed his face under the stream of hot water in an attempt to clear his head.

“Relax. Take a deep breath, in and out.”

Jon unwittingly followed the instructions. The frown fell from his face and his body relaxed, taking in the warmth of the water.

“You’re Oliver's best friend. Makes sense, given you’re a total alpha too.”

“Both wha- ah! Ah!”, Jon planted his hands against the wet, tiled wall as the words sent pleasure rippling through his body. He looked down feeling a strong warmth against his leg but it wasn’t the hot water. His semi-hard cock had blasted a rope of cum against his leg. “What the fuck?” Jon mumbled.

“What a coincidence that you’re both six-foot-four. It serves him well in the gym, the same way it serves you well in the water.”

Jon howled in ecstasy, spluttering and moaning, as his five-foot-nine body stretched higher. His soft cock drooled hot cum as it rapidly began to rise. His arms pushed against the wall, lengthening for better performance in the pool. He stepped backward as his head struck the showerhead and rose even higher. Hot water poured down the front of his much longer torso and legs.

“Your shoulders are so broad. Typical of you swimming jocks.”

Unable to resist the command, Jon's shoulders crunched and throbbed, thrusting out larger and bulging with muscle. “God! W- What the fuck i- is... ugh... happening?!” he roared, terrified not just by the growth gripping his body, but the incredible pleasure it wrought on him.

“Those are some long, meaty fucking arms, Jon.”

“F- fuck!” Jon roared, spraying a massive load up the back of the shower feeling his narrow arms explode with thick mounds of muscle, rippling across his biceps and triceps. The growth spread down his arms, his forearms bloating with tight, lean muscle. His wrists cracked as they thickened.

“Hands that big must be useful for pushing through the water.”

Stifled screams rumbled from Jon’s tightly clenched mouth. His hands were pressed against the back of the shower, clicking and twitching as they began to swell across the tiles. The fingers accelerated longer and longer. His palms spread monstrously broad. He flexed his hands, in total awe of their disproportionate size; perfect for pushing through the water.

The experience was like nothing Jon ever felt. A sexual eruption taking place across every cell as the words rewrote his body. “Can’t... resist... so g- good,” Jon grunted, gasping for air.

“You clearly work out for the aesthetics as well, not just the pool. Your shredded chest is proof of that.”

Jon couldn’t even attempt to fight anymore, but nor did he want to. His chest puffed and bulged, distorting the path of the water running across it. The previously non-existent pecs pushed outward from his widening chest. His cock trembled as the changes took hold in his abdomen, causing his flat stomach to erupt with tight, thick abs. Jon gripped his ass, feeling it swell into his huge hands while he erupted cum across the tiles once more.

*“That’s the spirit, Jon. You’re a *stud.”

Jon felt those words echo in his ears and rumble down his throat. Grunts and pants became deeper and deeper as his thickened and voice morphed. His head groaned as it enlarged to fit his frame. Hair began to flourish out of his cheeks and across his upper lip while the mop of medium-length hair on his head retreated, leaving a short, handsome cut in its place. He stroked his cock with one hand and clasped his face with the other feeling his jawline refine and the angles of his face sharpen. He turned to the mirror cabinet, seeing just a sliver of his improved visage. Jon gasped at the sight and immediately ejected another load of cum.

He didn’t just look like a swole swimming jock. He felt like one too. He rejoiced in his mind being filled with thoughts of the pool, weightlifting, spotting his bros at the gym, and fucking them afterward.

“Good to see the bottom half matches the top.”

Jon’s legs trembled. He clutched the slippery tiles harder to hold himself up, the pleasure reverberating through his legs almost too much to bear. Muscles spasmed in his calves, swelling with every little twitch. Muscle wasn’t all that was gracing his legs. Dark hair grew forth from the skin, coating his powerful legs in a layer of fur. Jon swore under his breath, impressed by the hair spreading up and down his legs. He thought about how he refused to shave like other swimmers, he liked the hair, and regardless his superior form needed no extra boost. His body responded to the suggestion, triggering a fine layer of hair to sprout from his forearms, between his pecs, in a trail over his abs and across the tops of his feet.

Memories of the pool, the beach, and victories across university swimming tournaments swarmed his brain. Trophies and medals materialized in the bedroom just next to where he was showering.

“Damn, it’s no surprise you outperform everyone in the water with feet that massive. And you know what they say about that, Jon.”

Every one of the toes on Jon’s size eight feet surged with pleasure. He moaned loudly as they began to push across the floor of the shower while his soles stretched to catch up. He recalled new memories of having large feet, how they propelled him to victory in the pool, and the comments people would make: “Bigfoot”, “You know what they say...”, “Where can you even buy size sixteens?”

“Sixteen?!” he repeated in his mind. The brief shock turned to anticipation as he felt his soles continue to march forward longer and wider, his toes twitching while they reshaped long and meaty. Jon growled aloud as he expelled another load, “God, yeah... so f- fucking... big.”

The jock trembled under the stream of hot water, desperate for sexual release. He looked down as the expanding feet settled into excessively large size sixteens, curling his long toes as his six-inch cock began to quiver in its desperation to grow larger as well. It felt as though it were perpetually hardening, only to then push longer and girthier instead. Jon grasped his wet cock and thrust into his grip hard and repeatedly. He relished in the sensation of the veins bulging and the shaft thickening.

*“I guess what they say really is true, isn’t *it?”

The audio toyed with him, pushing his cock just that little bit longer and pumping it ever so slightly thicker. It pulsed and twitched, gradually and slowly with every breath. His uncut, British foreskin slid further backward, as a larger, blunter head swelled outward. Jon smirked as he groaned and growled, stroking faster and faster, enthralled by the beautiful nine-inch weapon he now possessed.

“Cum.”

“Oh yeah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jon made three final long, hard tugs on his thick pole before roaring in delight as unspeakable ecstasy filled him. Cum rocketed upward against the water rushing from the showerhead, ejecting what remained of Jon’s old genetic material while orgasm after orgasm pounded his body.

Exhausted and dripping wet, he stepped slowly out of the tub, unsteady on his new legs and feet.

*“Remember to share this recording with your friends*.”

And with that, the playback stopped. Jon looked at himself in the mirror, still shocked, but enraptured with his new body and looks. He grabbed his phone and wiped the water from the screen, struggling to unlock it with his longer fingers. He typed out a reply to Oliver, “That shit was fucking lit mate!”

A few miles away, a sweaty Oliver was busy lifting weights, waiting for his friend to give him some indication that something had happened. He had to place the weight down slowly as his mind blurred for a moment. He saw the images and memories that he had of his friend change and shift. Gone were the images of a quiet little twink, replaced by those of a loud, masculine swimming jock. Oliver smiled cockily realizing what had just happened. Then, as if on cue, his phone vibrated with Jon’s reply. Following was a photo of a huge, semi-hard cock swinging above two gargantuan feet. Oliver felt his own cock stiffen slightly at the image.

“Hell yeah, bro! You should be selling these pics like I do,” Oliver sent in response, getting a deep chuckle out of Jon.

Both men now looked at their phones, horny and pondering who next to share the mysterious audio file with.