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Harry moaned out in pleasure as he erupted deep into your hole, you were about to cum to... but you couldn't. Your face and body began to tingle and change. Harry stood you up and put you infront of a mirror. Where there should have been an image of you and Harry, there was instead an image of two of him. You felt your new face with your new hands while your new cock ached with denial. The first Harry slipped a chain around your neck and a cap onto your head. You felt an overwhelming need to breed and spread your, no, Harry's seed. With a kiss on the lips Harry caught your attention and wispered "We are Harry, and we are legion." Both of you oarted ways with one single goal in mind: Spread Harry around the world.

Rise of the Rubber Drones

Chapter 1: Colin and Kev

After weeks of studying and stress, boyfriends Kev and Colin finally had time for themselves. Reading week had brought them some well-needed breathing room to finish up on work, study, and spend real time together. Colin had spent the afternoon preparing a wonderful supper for Kev while he was running errands. By the time Kev came back, all was ready. 

Colin greeted his boyfriend at the door, eager to see his reaction to the meal he had spent all day preparing. At first, Kev didn’t say anything, and Colin felt an empty pit swell in his stomach at the thought of disappointing Kev. The feeling vanished quickly however when Kev wrapped his arms around Colin, pulling the twink into a tight hug, kissed him on the forehead, and whispered, “I love you so much, bebe.” Colin was overcome with emotion and felt dizzy as Kev’s muscles pressed against his slender frame. He buried his face into Kev’s sweater, breathing in his boyfriend’s Oldspice, and let himself be held. “I love you too,” Colin’s voice was muffled from talking into Kev’s chest. 

It took all of Colin’s willpower to break the sweet embrace, but if he hadn’t their food would have gotten cold. They sat at the table and ate. They talked, laughed, and told stories. Their dinner was briefly interrupted by a high-pitched moaning coming from the apartment next door. Their neighbour Josh was a college jock like Kev, only Josh was straight. Josh’s girlfriend had flown home to the country for reading week, but from what Colin heard he was clearly having a mind-shattering orgasm. Kev made a stupid joke and they both broke into a fit of laughter. Colin felt like he was falling in love all over again when he looked into Kev’s laughing blue eyes. 

After they had both finished their meal, Colin cleaned up the supper mess while his boyfriend freshened up. Colin whistled a toon as he washed their plates and cups in the sink. He thought he saw movement behind the curtains so pulled them aside and looked down on the street below. From the window, he had a perfect view of the sidewalks in front of the building. Colin was surprised to see what appeared to be men dressed in head-to-toe black rubber. He saw six or seven walking below, some walked together, and others walked alone. Colin figured there must be some kind of rubber night at the Shiny Richard Kink Bar. Kev had a huge rubber kink, if Colin had known he would have suggested they put on their rubber suits and go. Colin doubted Kev was ready to go clubbing on such short notice, so he closed the curtains and continued to whistle his toon. 

After the dishes were done, and cuddling with Kev had become more than just cuddling - as it almost always did, Colin let his hunk of a boyfriend lead him to the bedroom. Kev laid on his back, pulling Colin on top of him and into a deep passionate kiss. Colin leaned into the embrace, getting lost in Kev’s touch. Kev pulled him in closer, hooking his legs behind Colin’s back and wrapping his hands around Colin’s head. He thought he heard a noise coming from the other room but paid it no mind. The warmth of the embrace made Colin feel safe, while the feel of Kev’s muscles sent blood rushing to his cock that was rubbing uselessly in his pants against Kev.

Kev pushed Clin up just enough to break the kiss, and in a hungry tone whispered, “I want it bebe.”

Colin knew exactly what he wanted, a grin spread across his face. He undid Kev’s pants and pulled them and his boxers off, throwing them beside the bed. Kev’s now-exposed hole made Colin ravenous. He got down on his knees and began running his tongue up and down, in and out of Kev’s ass. The jock moaned as Colin licked a finger and pushed it in, then another, then another. After failing to fit a fourth finger, Colin stood up and undid his fly. His raging hardon pounced out of his pants, and Colin pressed the tip lightly against Kev’s ass. Kev lifted his legs to rest on Colin’s shoulders as the twink felt his sensitive cockhead brush against his stud boyfriend’s quivering hole.

“You want it, jock-boy?” Colin purred, holding himself back from thrusting deep into Kev’s guts, seeing what his cock did to his boyfriend lit a fire in Colin, he wanted to hear this beautiful beast of a man beg to get fucked.

‘Oh god, oh fuck, please Colin, please fuck me, bebe.” Kev’s voice was a begging whimper, jumping in pitch every time Colin pressed his head against Kev’s hole. The look of hazy, horny bliss on the jock’s face told Colin that he meant it, every word. Colin couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He pressed his cockhead into Kev’s hole, making the stud moan like a bitch in heat. 

Before Colin could register what was happening he was ripped out of Kev. Something grabbed hold of his waistband and pulled him back with inhuman strength. Colin fell, landing on his ass at something’s feet. Looking up, he saw it. Its masculine, hard, muscled form was covered in head-to-toe rubber, shiny and black like the suits he and Kev wore to kinky parties and clubs. Unlike his rubber suit though, these were seamless. The thick-treaded rubber boots that covered the thing's feet seemed to bleed seamlessly into the rubber that clung tightly to its muscular calves and thighs. A large shiny bulge stuck out below rubber-coated abs. Rubber covered it all the way up its body - chiselled pecks, muscular arms, a well-defined adam’s apple - until you reached its eyes. Seamless rubber covered its nose and mouth like a facemask, peaking at the top of its nose, then angling down to a flat line around the rest of its head below its ears. Its eyes were cold, emotionless, and grey, its hair was well-styled and blond.

Colin heard Kev cry out and leaped into action. He jumped up and tried to force the thing out of their bedroom, but it was too strong. As he struggled, Kev’s cries got louder, but something wasn’t right. He was moaning, grunting, Colin knew what it sounded like when Kev was getting fucked, that's how he sounded now. Only now, Kev was squealing like he never had for Colin. The rubber thing took advantage of the momentary distraction to grab a firm hold of the rebellious twink with its brutishly strong arms. It turned him around and held him in place. Then he saw it. Another rubber thing had taken his place on top of Kev. Colin saw his boyfriend’s feet resting on its shoulders, spasming a little as the rubber-clad ass of the creature thrust back and forth, in and out.

Colin stood there, unable to move, unable to see past the shiny rubber shadow that was breeding his boyfriend. Kev’s moans grew more and more intense, more high-pitched as the thing fucked him. To Colin's shock and horror, black rubber streamed up Kev’s legs, covering them, and morphing into the same black boots the other drones were wearing. 

It wasn’t much longer after that that it was all over. Kev gave out one last ecstasy-laced moan as he was fucked to a mind-shattering orgasm. The drone continued to thrust in silence for another minute before pulling out. It stepped back from the bed and turned so its front was visible to Colin. He watched as a massive cock shrank into another shiny bulge. Its body was covered in the exact same seamless suit as the one holding Colin from behind, but its body was slightly less defined, and Josh’s spiked black hair stood in strak contrast to the other’s golden blond. Josh had beautiful green eyes, now they were hollow and cold.

The third drone was on its feet by then; Its sweater had been replaced with skintight rubber that highlighted every muscle. The feet that had once rested on Colin’s shoulders had become thick rubber boots. And the smell of Oldspice had been replaced with the smell of new rubber. Colin stared into Kev’s beautiful blue eyes, and it stared back. Instead of a bulge, a great rubber cock, bigger than Kev’s ever was, stuck straight out, dripping a viscous black liquid from its tip. The blond drone forced Colin to his knees, “My turn,” he thought, there was no resistance left in him, he only wanted to be with Kev. 

The taste of rubber cock quickly became orgasmic as Colin’s conversion began.

Check out the other chapters on my GSS page.

"This project sucks" said your jock project partner. "I can't believe how long this is taking. Honestly, I'm not good with this kind of stuff. Way too much thinking. Nerd shit, if you ask me. I'm glad I got paired up with you, because you seem good with this," he said to you.

You rolled your eyes and agitation, staring at all his dumb, macho movie and sport posters. How did you always end up stuck with these meathead idiots who were too dumb to do any of the work that needed to get done?

"You know, you're pretty cool for a gay guy. You should think about joining my frat," he said.

You stared at him, confused for a minute. You? A frat? That was ridiculous. You hated frats, hated the people in them, and hated what they stood for. Just another excuse to get drunk, and so full of misogynistic douchebags. You told him you weren't interested politely. He asked again soon, and you declined again. He kept asking why, but you just said it wasn't your type of thing. He said that was cool, but other people had to come around before and it was pretty chill. These were the years to fuck around, drink beer, workout, bulk up, and fuck. They had their whole lives to be boring. This was their physical prime and they should take advantage of that. You thought it was gross.

You had to admit though, he was pretty hot, even for a total idiot. His bulging arms kept catching your gaze. They were nice and big, nice to look at. Nice when he moved and his huge biceps rolled up and down his upper arm. Maybe it was the only positive aspect of getting paired up with him for this project. It didn't help that he was the exact type of guy you'd imagine fucking you, telling you what to do when you jerked off at night, but you usually compartmentalized the two parts well.

Later, he was zoned out playing video games and drinking a beer as you worked on the project, and eventually leaned back, and hoisted one of his feet up on the side table next to you. At first, you were disgusted. Did he have no manners? But as time went on you noticed how nice it was to look at. How smooth it was, and how big. So big. So much bigger than yours, and nice and meaty too. You felt yourself getting hard against your will, trying to look away and focus... but he was fucking hot! As you thought about it more, you realized maybe... you were in the wrong. He may be dumb, but he had never been judgemental, malicious or mean. Maybe you were the one with preconceived notions. Maybe you were the one being judgemental, and maybe you were the one who should've gave him a chance.

"I'm so glad you're taking care of this, man. I'm a lot better at more physical stuff than that stuff if you know what I mean."

You stared at him, eyebrow raised.

"I mean, I know you can tell. You've been staring at my arm since you got here. What is it? Do you like these?" he asked, flexing. His biceps rolled up like hills as big as his head forming, also highlighting his capped shoulders and muscular, hairy armpits.

You stared, transfixed by his huge muscles and bushy pits, still shocked the fact that he had just done that but unable to look away. He was smiling at you, his killer white smile flashing. He turned his wrists the other way and then back again and his biceps followed accordingly, rolling back and forth. Your eyes followed them as they moved, side to side, side to side. A line of drool fell out of your mouth, but you didn't notice.

"Haha, I thought so, skinny boy. These always do the trick," he said, wiggling his toes. Your eyes moved to them again, appreciating how big and beautiful they were. "Especially if they stink. You probably were feeling more friendly towards me just now; that's just the pheromones from my sweat working, overwhelming you. Soon you'll be begging to do whatever I say. Begging to join my frat and be a frat bro, just like us. And don't worry too much, even if you got up and left now, you'd turn right around. You've got about 15 seconds. I didn't want to assume, but I figured a gay guy like you would be into me."

Taking ahold of yourself at his dumb comment, you walked towards the door, disgusted and about to leave when you stopped suddenly. You felt your head slowly, involuntarily turn around as your eyes locked on his huge feet again; his big muscular arms, his cocky smile. You inhaled deeply; his musky scent had filed the room totally. You started walking back to him. Part of you wanted to stop, but a stronger part didn't. No, you wanted to serve him. Any dislike you'd felt towards him being replaced, rewritten, with an overwhelming desire to please. To please him. To do whatever he wanted. To do the project so that he would get a good grade. That would make him happy. Happy with you. And you knew that you wanted that more than anything in the world. He had to be happy with you. That was very, very important to you now, and so was the smell that was filling the room, rewriting all of you. By the time you stood in front of him there was nothing left. Nothing but a desire to please him. He smiled, the dumb look still on his face.

You dropped down quickly to your knees, as quickly as you could, because you wanted him to know how eager you were to serve him. That would make him happy. And that will make you happy. You felt your face pulling closer towards his feet. His big, sweaty feet. The feet that owned you now.

"Not-ah, not yet," he said, still smiling as he wiggled his toes in front of your face.. You froze, as much as it pained you. "Just appreciate them for now," he said, moving one an inch from your face. "Just breathe them in. I can tell you want to. Don't be shy about it, boy."

You inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent more, fog hazing your mind. It smelled so musky and good.

"You've probably imagined this a million times, haven't you boy?

"Yes sir. Yes I have. I've dreamed of kneeling in front of a real man like you, sniffing and licking your sweaty, manly feet. It's so embarrassing but nothing makes me cum harder. I'm sorry I disrespected you by trying to leave sir. This is what I want. This is where I belong."

"That's right boy. Now strip down for me babyboy. Let Daddy see that pretty little body."

Your cheeks flushed as you stood up, undressing yourself. Normally you would've felt embarrassed to do this, but this time it was because you just felt lucky that he'd chosen you to boss around. He had told you to, and doing what he said mattered most. A few moments later, you were totally naked in front of him.

"Approach," he commanded.

You stepped forward dutifully. His big hands explored your body, feeling like he could wrap both around your thin torso and have his fingers meet. Where they touched you, ripples of pleasure seem to spiral outwards. He gripped your ass tightly, grunting appraisingly, turning you around, smirking at your decent sized cock. His hands brushed over your nipples and squeezed. Your eyes fluttered in pleasure as your mind went blank. All that existed was the feeling of his big, meaty fingers sliding over your nipplrd, squeezing them, playing you like an instrument. He pulled you back into him and you collapsed onto his lap, feeling how much larger he was than you, how tiny you were compared to him.

"Ready to pledge yourself to me, boy?"

"Yes," you said, ass grinding against the imprint of his cock you felt against your ass, letting your head roll back as its power overwhelmed you, turning you weak and submissive- no, just making your weak, submissive nature come out.

"Before we go any further, you're going to give me total control, boy," he said, grinding his hips against your ass as he said it.

"Yes sir," you said dazedly, head still rolled back as your body moved in time with his, "Total control."

"That's right boy. And I don't just mean in the bedroom. I mean total control. You sure you want to give that up boy?" he said, thrusting his hips a little harder and faster each moment.

"Yes... sir," you said, lost in the feeling of his thick, throbbing cock outline on your ass through both your pants. You'd do anything for that cock right now. You needed to let him know. "Anything for your cock, sir. Total. Control."

"That's my boy," he cooed in his deep voice, reaching a hand up to squeeze your tiny pink nipple again. You moaned in pleasure, reeling at his touch as your body experienced a pleasure more intense than you ever felt before, slowly becoming addicted to it, needing it, feeling everything else that had ever felt good become dull by comparison. You body rewired itself, craving him, making him a necessity like food, water, or air. You needed him. Only he had ever made you feel this good. Nothing would ever feel this good again. Every part of you craved him, craved more, needed more of that feeling. You realized you were staring into his eyes now, transfixed. He gave you a slow, cocky nod.

You shot forward. You wanted to be his whore. To do whatever he said. He was the type of musclegod you'd watched countless videos of, the type you had hundreds of pics saved of. A dumb, stupid bro. And he was in front of you now, biceps bulging, hairy, sweaty pits out, his hard cock grinding against you, and a look of dominance on his face. You fell into the role you'd jerked off to in front of your computer so many times, collapsing into his pit, smiling as the salty smell of his sweat filled your nose again. It was different than the musk from his feet. Sweeter and more tantalizing. You tongue lapped at it as you rubbed your face against the bush of dark hair, sucking the sweat from it. He flexed and you immediately went to kissing and licking his huge muscles. Your eyes glazed over as you became lost in him; lost in his body and scent and worshipping him, lost in his charming, cocky smile that made you hear a "go on, go on boy" in your head every time you saw it. Keeping him smiling was all that mattered.

"You're gonna join my frat, bro," he continued, still rubbing and pinching you while grinding his cock against your ass.

"Wha-" you mumbled, but it changed to a "Yes," midway through, kissing his bicep that was as big as your head over and over.

"Hope you were paying attention boy. You heard me, right? 'Pledge' yourself to me? Haha. Yep. Me and my frat. Drinking, fucking and working out is all you care about now. Just like those guys on the wall. Look at them all, boy. Men. Men you want to be like. Just like the guys downstairs. They all started out like you, you know. Nerd losers. Yep. All those meatheads down there sitting on the couch, manspreading their thick thighs watching football n drinking beer were faggots like you once. But one thing about you guys- you're more eager to give up control way more than any bitch I've ever fucked, and that makes the transition pretty easy and quick, surprisingly. I say gain 20 pounds if you wanna suck this cock again, and they come back 30 pounds heavier. I say go bring a bitch home if they want Daddy's pits again- just to see if they'll do it- and they come home with 3. I tell them to enjoy it, and oh, they enjoy it. You should see some of these guys the first time they get in a pussy. Something left of their masculinity activates and they go nuts. They know they want to be men, deep down. They just never thought they could until me. And they know they have me to thank."

Before you know what's happening, as his words are still seeping into you, rewriting your reality, he slides a finger into your hole. You gasp- you've never felt that before. You're a virgin, honestly. But you feel him inside you now and it feels so good.... so right for him to be penetrating you. Infiltrating you. You relax into it, starting to bounce slowly on it.

"That's right boy. You're my little puppet now."

"I'm your puppet now" you repeat, feeling him in you, controlling you, letting him. It feels amazing, addicting.

"You're mine to command, boy.'

"I'm yours to command sir."

"You want to get bigger."

"I want to get... bigger."

"You want to look like this," he says, flexing his free arm. You stare at it and... it's true, youdon't juat want it... you want to look like it. You bounce harder on his finger and barely notice as he slides you off it and onto his cock. Both your heads tip back in pleasure as he slides into your tight hole. You grind against each other at the same time, slowly his big thick hands moving to grip your thin waist- only it's gtting bigger, thicker, more muscular. You look down queationing, butv when you look up at hmim he's nodding, and a momemt later you are too. Youunderstand.You want this. You grid against him, letting more of his cock and precum soak into you.

"That's it boy," he says, "Soak all that alpha cum up, baby. Let ot make you a real man. This is just the beginning."

"Yeaaaah," you say, your voice getting deeper and deeper as you say it, your chest widening, your skin going from pale white to a nice bronzed tan. You feel your cock swelling, balls swelling too. Your thoughts cloud as this happens; it gets harder and harder to think. Like you're getting dumber... like your cock was controlling you completely now. You smile at him while you ride his cock harder, and he smiles back.

"You get it now boy?" he sas with a laugh.

"Mhm," you grunt, "Gotta keep this dick happy, n to do that I gotta look good. Gotta hit the gym, gotta make sure I stay looking good," you say, flexing your now thick biceps.

"That's right boy," he says, reaching up to squeeze your niple. You shuudder, head rolling back again.

"Let's hit the gym after this, bro," you said in a daze.

He nodded, laughing. "See. Deep down you wanted to be a man like me all along, didn't you?"

"Yeah," you admitted. "iI get it now bro.

"You fags break so easily," he says with a laugh. "I always knew I wanted to start my own frat. Too much work to join another, but also didn't want to deal with recruiting people and getting them to follow me. But then I realized there was a whole group of guys who'd follow me and whatever I said, just as long as they get this dick once in awhile. Well congrats boy, you're one of us now," he said with a thrust, and you felt a surge of warmth from his cock fill you. Your insides tingled, then burned as the slow transformation that had been happening quickened. Your arms doubled, then tripled in size; thick, dark bushes of hair growing under each. Your chest puffed out and your back widened and your underwear and pants ripped as your thighs blew up. haha, You leaned your head back and yelled as it happened, barley realizing you were cumming. You felt your center of focus going from your brain to the big dick now hanging between your legs. You want to do what it says, want to do what makes it feel good. You feel that becoming your main focus in life now: pleasing your cock. You're a slave to it. You have to stay big. Being be big would let you fuck more. It was so simple, such a clear and easy directive to follow.

"My maaaan," he said proudly, looking up at your new body. "How you feelin bro?"

You grinned stupidly at him. "Great man," you said, standing up and examining yourself in the mirror, running your hands over your physique as your memories rewrote themselves. It had been hard, but working for this body over the years had been so worth it. Memories of hours in the gym, and getting your sweaty cock sucked by fags, and bitches nearly throwing themselves at you for this body flooded you. It felt so good.

"Give those pits a whiff, boy."

You lifted your arm, inhaling your own pit stench. The smell nearly burned your nose, but still smelled great. Nice and masculine and virile. Kinda made you a little horny. "Haha, damn. That shit reeks bro," you sad with a dumb grin.

"Haha I know right man? As a bro, your pits should always reek. Make sure you never wash or scrub them out. Helps line up the faggots and gives them a job."

"Yeah bro, I know," you said. You'd always known that, of course.

You stared at the half finished project on the computer.

"Damn, i guess we'll need to find a fag to finish that up. Shouldn't be too hard to find one out at the gym though," you said with a cocky smirk, flexing your biceps in the mirror and grinning dumbly at them.

"That's right man." he says, flexing his own behind you. Even though you'd gotten bigger, he was still way bigger than you. His pit stretch wiped your own right out of your nose.

"Damn bro! You stink!" you said, but with admiration, not insultingly.

"It comes with size," he said casually. "But one last thing before we go, what do you wanna do after?"

"I dunno man," you said dumbly. "Probably watch the game downstairs with the guys, invite some bitches over, see if I can bang one," you said with another dumb, cocky smile.

"My guy," he said, walking over and giving you a bro-hi-five, bouncing his big chest off yours.

You put his clothes on one by one, first his big boxers which fit around your thick waist and thighs tightly. Part of you inside remembered what you'd been only moments ago, but seeing yourself like this was just too enticing. Big. Strong. Powerful. No one was going to fuck with you or push you around now. this was what being a man felt like. A real man. The feeling was addicting. You wanted more of it, more of that power, so you had to keep getting bigger. Stronger. Asserting your masculinity. Fucking. Dominating. Constantly. You never understood where jocks had gotten that motivation, but now it was clear as day, it wasn't motivation, it was an addiction. Addiction to power and strength. Now that you'd tasted power like this, you'd be chasing more forever.

"Embrace that boy," he said, "You're a man now. You're one of us now." he said from behind you.

"Duck yeah I am," you said and he smiled at you. "Then let's hit the gym."

"Let's get it bro," he said, giving your ass a firm spank.

Hours later you were both balls deep in two bitches you'd met at the bar giving them both a good pounding. You laughed and high fived each other every time one of them let out a moan of pleasure. Before that you'd both sat back and gotten sucked off and compared them to the fag couple you'd found at the gym before the bar who were both on their knees in front of your cocks in minutes. Honestly, the fags had been better, you both agreed while these chicks slurped on your cocks. They wanted it more. Grunting, you each blew your load into them after a few minutes of sloppy pounding and collapsed onto them. It was good to be a bro.

To start off I love!!!! Your story great stuff!! 

Also could you tern my best friend and I into two himbo and as we change we start having felling for each other until we are boyfriends

So you and your friend want to be himbos?Well I can certainly help with that. Let’s start with you and then I’ll make your friend into what your new body will yearn for.

Now, I find it commendable that you took the initiative to kickstart this brand new life for you and your future boyfriend, so it only feels right to make you the dom top. Your muscles swell and soon get coated in a nice layer of fat, making you look even larger. Your skin darkens, cementing your new body as a man of indian heritage. Your hair thins out before simply vanishing, rendering you bald. But in return for the loss of hair on your head, curly gray hairs appear all over your body. Your face ages as your mature hair settles in. You begin emitting a pungent body odor as if you have never step foot in a shower. Your brain activity slows to a decently dumb IQ of 85. Not too dumb but definitely not smart. Your new brain is bombarded with images of your massive cock breeding white twinks and forcing them to partake in your every fantasy.

Now for your “friend”. You see, your new body yearns to dominate, so he’s going to become your ideal fuck toy. His already small muscles diminish except for his butt, which grows to become a perfect fuck hole for you. He ages too, except to 32 rather than 60 like you. He finds himself now only able to wear leather gear like his favorite accessory, a butt plug with a fake tail attached. His mind changes more drastically, his new IQ resting around 40. His mind is too slow to conjure up original thoughts so he just follows his master’s lead. And that master just so happens to be you. He becomes entirely submissive, the idea of making his own decision or saying “no” seeming like herculean feats.

So you’re welcome! You’re now the proud owner and “boyfriend” of your friend. He’s incessantly submissive to you, taking any chance he can to worship your large muscles, your giant stinky feet, and your gargantuan brown cock. And you take any chance you can get to pound this twink’s fat ass or breed his gaping throat. Have a nice life you two lovebirds.

The muscled up couple were relaxing in their bedroom. Although he was taller, Chase was the younger one by at least ten years. His partner, Doug, was much shorter than him… and in more ways than one. Chase never let Doug forget it either, getting off on demeaning the older man’s five inch cock as he fucked him with his own nine incher.

Chase, feeling frisky, began to kiss up and down his partner’s neck, getting hard with ease.

Doug squirmed and leaned away, quickly snatching something out of his nightstand drawer. “Hey Babe,” he said, showing off the small vial that he held in his clutches. “I wanna try something.”

“Poppers?” Chase wondered as he scratched at his messy hair, a little confused. His partner was always a little more vanilla, but he figured as long as he got to pound his little ass, it would be fine.

Doug just nodded, taking his dose before handing his partner the vial, which Chase partook instantly.

As soon as the chemicals hit his system, Chase spasmed and his body felt hot. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he arched his back, moaning out with pleasure as his cock felt painfully hard.  “What the fuck is this?” he panted, looking over at his partner, his eyes widening in shock when he saw Doug’s previously smallish cock lengthen and widen with every second before topping out at an impressive ten inches, putting his to shame.

Dough just smirked. “I wanted us to try something different, Babe,” he teased, reached around to playfully squeeze one of Chase’s ass cheeks.

At the slightest touch of his ass, Chase felt an earthquake of pleasure ripple through him. He couldn’t stop the loud moans from escaping his lips, feeling like he’d never felt before.  “What the hell is happening to me?” he breathed, feeling like putty in his man’s hands as his ass was played with. Never before has his ass ever been anything close to sensitive, but now he craved a man’s strong hand on it.

“You’re becoming a good bottom,” Doug cooed. “Take a look.”

Chase painstakingly stopped squirming as he ass cheeks were squeezed, looking down and gasping when he saw the one inch nub that was barely visible in his trimmed bush.  “WHAT THE FUCK?!” he screamed, grabbing at the nub in horror, but the slightest touch caused his eyes to roll to the back of his head.

“All those nerves squeezed into such a tiny thing has made it incredibly sensitive,” Doug commented. “But don’t worry about that; it’s not your best asset.” He gave Chase a firm smack on his ass, Chase wincing at the way his ass jiggled like it had never done so before.

Chase shot out of bed and ran over to the floor-length mirror that was in the corner of their bedroom. Again, he gasped loudly at the inflated ass that he now possessed, looking like he had two soccer balls affixed to his lower back. To make matters worse, his puny nub leaked nonstop, his horniness taking over his mind and pushing away any fear he knew he should’ve felt. With shaky eyes, he glanced over at Doug, swallowing loudly as he couldn’t help but stare at his partner’s enormous cock.

“Come here,” Doug said, motioning with his finger.

Chase rushed over and immediately got on all fours, presenting his new bubble butt to his man, ready to get absolutely fucked like the bottom boy he now was.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Two

--- Originally posted on 2019-08-16 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Feuding Twins

Lee Hae-jin squatted down in the hotel’s skate park, proudly observing the progress of his hotel. It had been a little over two weeks since the grand opening and already three more hotels had been approved by different cities, with almost twenty more being proposed. Lee wasn’t at all surprised, he knew his plan was going to work. Even if the individual governments didn’t necessarily see his point of view, they would eventually.

Lee’s casual look had suited him well. He was gaining lots of honest opinions about the hotel, as no one expected him to be the leader of the entire operation. Of course, everyone had the same opinion, agreeing that it truly was “A Seoul-changing Experience.” As he adjusted his ample manhood through his barely-covering shorts, he overheard two young boys fighting. Lee got up and slowly inched towards the conversation. He stood near a tree, listening in on what seemed like two middle schoolers fighting. “I can’t believe I beat you! AGAIN!”

“You cheated! Plus, that card game is way too easy.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m always the winner.”

“But it’s our 13th birthday - you can’t cheat!”

“I still won, and I won Bella’s heart, so anythi-”

“I hate being in the same room with you, you twit!”

“Shut up!”

“No you!”

Before the two could get too riled up, Lee swooped out from behind the tree and made his way between the two boys. Both of them looked fairly similar: blond hair, small stature, lanky bodies. Their pale skin was only heightened by their bright colored swimsuits, with the older wearing black and red and the younger adorning a neon yellow.

“So, I hear we have a winner back here?” Lee said in perfectly fluent English.

“Yes!” said one, stepping forward proudly. He was obviously the older of the two twins, being that he was taller and puberty was gracing him faster.

“Wait!” the second sneered, taking the first back and whispering into his ear, “He’s a stranger…

“Well, in that case, let me introduce myself,” Lee replied, surprising the two boys once again, “My name is Lee, I own the Hotel Korea.” The two boys stood back in awe. Lee, knowing that he held all the cards now, continued.

“I think the proud winner should earn a little prize,” he began, ushering the older one over. His black swim shirt gleamed in the sun against his bright, red trunks. He was obviously the superior of the two.

“For your amazing achievements in…”

“Sorcery,” the older twin stated, obviously a nerdy game.

“Sorcery,” Lee reinstated, “I’ll give you this free, underwater, disposable camera specially made by my company back in South Korea.” Lee took out a large device and put his thumb on a small circle, activating the prize, and then handed it to the older boy. The camera looked more like a tablet with a very bulky case. Before the twin could get too excited, Lee continued.

“Congratulations…”

“Seth Dawson-Kissel,” the older twin added, “and this is my twin, Hayden.”

“Now,” Lee resumed, “Hayden, although you lost, I believe you both also deserve a prize for your outstanding participation. I’m giving both of you access to one of my private spas.”

The two brothers’ eyes widened with glee, both about to scream with joy. After giving them a moment, Lee kindly asked them for their room keys. Lee quickly took out a different device and scanned over the two cards, resetting them. He was going to give them access to a private spa, but he was placing them in different rooms. After their time in the spa, they’d have a much different relationship then brothers. Once he’d had completed the reassignment, he gave back the keys and told the boys were two go. They quickly ran off, not even turning to thank the smirking man as they left.

— —

As soon as the two hadn’t gotten in the spa room, they jumped into action. The small area composed of a miniature pool, a stone stove, and plenty of spa chairs to relax in. They also had an incredible view of the city sprawled out below them. There was one other person there, a young, Korean man who was acting as their lifeguard. He barely spoke an English, but the two boys were too enthralled in the room to care. Seth, the older twin and victor, had decided to grab a giant pizza float and relax in the warm water. Unlike Seth, Hayden, the younger twin and loser, placed his sunglasses and towel in a neat pile before bathing in the sunlight coming from the windows on a spa bed. Hayden threw his towel on the ground next to him, but decided to keep his white tee on. He didn’t feel as confident in the presence of the strangely attractive Korean. He didn’t like guys, but he could tell he was very good-looking.

As the two began to relax, the Korean began to mix his hands into some scented oils before pouring them into the pool water. He made sure that all of the lubricants were touched by his hands, that way the entire pool would be under his own activation. He only had to work on the older twin, for Seth was already going to unconsciously work on the younger. The attendant had remembered what Lee had ordered: the attendant and the camera would have to work together to create a “trait switch.” The cheater was going to get what he deserved. The attendant quietly poured the scented oils into the pool with neither of the twins noticing.

While Hayden relaxed in a chair with his eyes closed, Seth began to play with the camera. With nothing else to take a picture of, he sneakily brought the lens towards his younger twin and took a picture. Once it had finished loading, he was surprised to see the quality of the photo. It actually looked really good, as if it was professional. As he investigated the picture, a small blurb showed up on the screen, asking if he’d like to apply a filter. Curiously, Seth accepted and watched as the picture transformed, giving his younger twin longer, stronger, and tanner legs. He giggled to himself quietly, excited to see more.

Still sitting silently, Hayden hadn’t realized that his twin had taken a picture of him, or that his lower limbs were changing. His legs began to push out. He wasn’t that tall before, being at about 5’4, but he was now reaching about 5’6. His thighs began to blossom, growing muscular quads as his calves strengthened. His once-knee length trunks were now halfway up his thighs, showcasing the meat hidden beneath. The beginnings of blond leg hair disappeared as a barely-visible, yet solid layer of black began to emerge with a yellowish tan coating his limbs. Hayden’s young legs also began to mature a bit, still retaining a younger look but having the meat of a man in his mid-twenties.

With Seth so focused on his new camera, he hadn’t noticed any changes about his own body. He hadn’t felt his legs stretching a little less than Hayden’s, bringing him from 5’4 to 5’5. He also couldn’t tell how his legs to had grown with maturity, hard muscle stacking up on his thickening thighs and strengthening calves. He didn’t notice how the blond hair had disappeared, keeping his legs hairless as they took on a more amber tone. Even when he took his eyes out of the camera to adjust his position, he didn’t recognize how his lower body had changed. He had always been shorter than his younger twin, it wasn’t anything new to him.

Seth took another picture, and this time the leg filter was already applied to his brother. Once he investigated the picture again, another filter suggestion popped up. Seth quickly clicked it, giving his younger brother stronger and larger arms.

Hayden, still calm in the chair, adjust his shoulders as his arms began to expand. He swiftly removed his shirt, not registering his changing body. As he went back to his relaxed state, his arms continued to bloat. Strong biceps and triceps appeared as the limbs lengthened, becoming stronger. Hayden was pretty much hairless on his arms before, but now he adorned miniature black fibers. As his muscles finished firming up, his hands matured, becoming meatier and harder. Memories of lifting and working out began to flood his head, teaching him how to maintain his strong and powerful appendages. A lemony shade enveloped his limbs while two, thick bushes of wiry, black hair filled in his pits. A subtle, yet putrid scent began to emit from Hayden’s pit, yet he was in such a lazy scent that he didn’t notice, or care.

Seth, fascinated by his camera, hadn’t felt his swim shirt expanding. His biceps and triceps were also growing, along with his arms lengthening, yet not as much as his brother’s. As Seth’s arms grew toned, he remembered that he always wanted to say right between the line of fit and athletic, while his younger brother always chose the route of muscular. His hands expanded, but also became a little more delicate as he remembered all of the times he would barely break a sweat in the gym. As Seth brought the camera back towards his face, his arms took on a yellower tone. His armpits lost all traces of hair ever being there, they were to remain hairless forever.

Seth shot the next photo, and, without thinking, clicked to add the filter. This time, he saw his cousin’s chest expand, looking more like a man’s torso instead of a boy’s.

As Hayden basked in the sunlight, his chest began to broaden. Years of working out began to show as two solid, firm pecs began to appear. A light six pack also emerged as memories of skipping class to go to the gym flooded Hayden’s brain. Muscles filled in what used to be the remainders of baby fat as Hayden’s shoulders widened, giving him a more visible collarbone. His larger torso gave him a little more height, pushing him from 5’6 to about 172 centimeters, just above (Korean) average. His nipples perked up as the golden color darkened his previous pale skin. His chest became completely hairless, never to have any coat grow there. As his chest finished, Hayden’s intelligence slowly began to drop.

With Seth still sitting on the pizza float, absorbed with his prize, he hadn’t realized how his swim shirt was suddenly becoming a little tight. Before, it was quite loose on his lithe body, but now, as his muscles began to perk up, the shirt began to hug him tightly. As his torso broadened, his height didn’t increase, leaving him at about 166 centimeters, shorter than his cousin. As his larger nipples began to harden, he remembered that his shirt had always been tight, he always wanted to show off his body for all men and women to see. He knew the easiest way to the heart was a solid chest. His chest also tanned as it became hairless; it too would never sprout hair again. Seth brought the camera up again to take another picture of his cousin, his chest yellowing as he did so.

The next picture came in quite odd. The only filter that had applied to his relative was a bigger, more prominent neck. Seth Kissel didn’t quite understand, yet the more he thought about it, the less he cared. Hayden Dawson had always had a neck like that.

Hayden grunted as his neck began to swell. His neck thickened as a meaty Adam’s apple slowly pushed its way out of his throat. His grunts became deeper and more mature, dropping from a prepubescent alto to a mature bass. His voice now had the stern quality of a young man, instead of that of a young boy. An amber tone appeared over his neck, giving him the complete look. With the deep voice also came power, causing Hayden to gently gain more confident, alpha personality traits. His levels of dominance began to rise and his intelligence continued to decrease.

Seth’s throat also tingled after he had taken the last picture. His neck thickened, making way for the maturing male coming out in him. A small Adam’s apple appeared in his throat too, definitely not as large as his relative’s but just as noticeable. His voice also dropped, but only half as far as Hayden’s had. He had now become a light tenor. His voice developed a more adulting tone, but also one that was inferior. As his inferiority slowly became more apparent, so did his now decreasing intelligence. He brought the camera up again, this time more timid as he took the picture.

The filter was applied instantly, not letting Seseu Kimmel choose if he wanted it or not. With no option of the filter, he didn’t recognize that the picture wasn’t showing his friend’s real face. To him, he believed that Heideun Dawso had always looked that way.

Heideun slowly opened his eyes, being the first time he had done so since he and his friend had played that dumb card game. He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to it; it was way too hard. Heideun looked around the room, his face growing longer as his chin and jaw began to expand. He noticed the attendant in the back, saying something to himself. As Heideun tuned in, almost completely making out the fluent Korean, his eyes began to shrink. Their blue tone took on a darker brown while his lips grew out a little. His darkening eyebrows straightened as his hair became a sharp black. His hair restyled itself, growing out and becoming a little bit messier due to the humidity of the room. His face matured, tanning into a solid golden tone yet still retaining some baby fat, giving him a true youthful, yet mature look. A natural, cocky sneer appeared on Heideun’s face as a dumber, more arrogant persona began to take over.

With Seseu absorbed into the camera, beginning to experience his first boner ever over a friend, he hadn’t realized that his face was changing too. His face stretched out longer, giving him a pointier chin. His eyes also shrunk a little as they changed to a dark brown. His nose shrunk while his hair restyled itself, becoming a penetrating black. More of his baby face stuck around, but he now looked like a young man. His lips became bigger, prepared to take on any cock of any size, and by the look on his face, he wanted his friends dick above anything. Seseu quickly took another picture, trying to be careful as to make sure his friend didn’t seem him.

The next photo was beginning to send Ses-eun over, his acquaintance was becoming more and more irresistible. He had simply snapped a picture of Hyei-sun’s feet at he could practically burst. The bony Size 11 US feet that were originally there were swapped out by the camera’s miraculous 265 mm feet.

“너무 섹시 해,” Ses-eun moaned in Korean quietly to himself. Trying to contain himself, Ses-eun hid his erection by scrunching up his legs, but didn’t notice how his thigh-length trunks now practically showcased his entire lower body.

Hyei-sun turned towards his acquaintance, hearing him mutter something. Ses-eun was too involved in the camera to notice Hyei-sun, so he got a clear look of the man’s body. A raging erection appeared instantly, causing Hyei-sun to casually grab his towel to place over it. It wasn’t that he was bashful, in fact he was quite confident in himself. The towel was instead going to be used as a cumrag. He had a hard-on, and he only knew one way to get rid of it. As he began to slowly stroke his erect dick, his feet began to shrink at the end of the chair. The Size 11 US feet that he once owned were lessening, becoming meatier as they lost their length. Eventually, they became soft and delectable, finishing to a size 265 mm. He knew his feet had power, and as he became more dense, he began to feel an urge to have other men bow down and service him at his feet. Hyei-sun couldn’t notice due to the essential oils, but his feet also began to emit a soft musk as they shaded themselves into a soft yellow.

Ses-eun was also palming himself, trying to find out how to discreetly grind without anyone noticing. While he was busy in his sexual haze, his Size 12 US feet began to diminish. They shrunk in quickly, becoming more mature and firm as they did so. Ses-eun’s pale, bony look was now replaced by something more luscious, as he now adorned two yellowy feet that fit perfectly into a pair of 250 mm shoes. Ses-eun knew he had to take one last picture of his overly attractive acquaintance, so he carefully took the camera out and took one last shot.

The final picture was what brought Seo-jeun to the edge. The picture looked almost the exact same as the last one, but this time he knew that the filter had applied something magical to the handsome stranger’s pouch. He could imagine how beautiful his 10 centimeter cock could have looked next to his large balls. He fantasized about how the amber tone must have brilliantly contrasted the wiry, black bush. Just envisioning the toned, hard butthocks on his back was bringing Seo-jeun closer and closer. The thought of the stranger’s package made him want to burst.

As Seo-jeun’s image became a reality, Hyun-sin was concocting something up for himself. At seeing the beautiful stranger in the pool make a look of ecstasy, he began to furiously pump his diminished cock faster. It didn’t shrink much, but it definitely brought more pleasure. As Hyun-sin cupped his expanding balls, he could visualize the golden bubble butt that laid inside the tiny red trunks. While his bush grew, he couldn’t help but dream of the tiny, 6.5 centimeter cock that was hidden between those thick legs. Once his butt had finished perking up, he pictured the small balls that had no black hair to hide behind inside the red trunks. As the last of the Korean genetics took over, Hyun-sin intelligence finished its descent at below-average. Everything left of his past self was pushed into his cock, ready to release.

“어 그래!” the man in the yellow trunks shouted proudly as he shot his load into the towel.

Seo-jun, hearing and seeing this, felt himself loading up. Seeing the glorious alpha in front of him made him clench his thickening cheeks together as they rounded into a soft bubble butt. His miniature cock ached as he felt his balls shrivel slightly. The last bits of pubic hair disappeared as his pouch took on a lemony tone. Seo-jun’s intelligence also stopped dropping, putting him just a few points smarter than the handsome stranger, but not enough to be dominant. The rest of his former life was pushed into his cum and ready to be expelled forever.

“어 그래!” the man in red trunks shouted anxiously as he shot his load into the pool water.

The two strangers looked at each other, both knowing that they had just come for each other. The one on the chair made eye contact first, his confidence burning from his eyes. The alpha Korean looked down at the pool on the submissive cockily.

The one on the pizza float looked back, scared to make eye contact at first but then suddenly drawn in. The submissive Korean looked up to the chair at the alpha sheepishly.

Before anything else could happen, the lifeguard, proud at his work, made sure to wrap up.

“Spa is closed!” the attendant shouted in Korean, causing the two strangers to snap out of their trances. They both looked at each other one last time before leaving. As the lifeguard locked the doors and the two walked towards their respective rooms, they only had two things on their mind. They had to figure out who the arousing Korean was that they saw, and they had to get a job at the hotel the next morning.

— —

Once the man in red trunks got back to his room, he quickly closed the door and threw himself onto the bed. He was quite cold, having ripped off the swim shirt earlier and suiting for just the towel. He got up and looked outside, the sun was reaching the horizon. His hair still wet with the sunglasses falling off in the back. The hotel had truly set an atmosphere just like home. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After a minute of vacant staring, he realized that he still had the camera in his hand. Once he turned it on, he realized that he had only take one picture with it; the handsome stranger letting his semen absorb into the towel before the spa closed. Seeing this, the man instantly got hard again.He jumped on the bed and began to jack off before switching to grinding. This continued for hours, passing out around midnight with the camera still in his hand.

— —

The man in yellow trunks had changed a long time ago, having switched into his favorite pair of sweatpants and a tight, black tee. He always forgot to wash them, so they both stunk of his natural aroma. The sun had long since gone down, and the man had closed the shades once it had gotten dark. The man sat there in a chair, enjoying one of the authentic, Korean drinks provided by the amazing hotel. He was happy he’d had a great 26th birthday at his favorite place in the world.

After drinking down the whole thing in one go, his cock began to firm up again. He grumbled in his low voice before jumping on the bed, ready to jack off for the third time since the spa had closed. The thought of that alluring stranger back in at the pool had driven the man crazy, he had to find out who he was. After he had come again, he passed out, exhausted from a long day’s work. His sweaty body emitted a putrid funk as the Korean semen sunk into the black tee.

— —

The alpha Korean sat quietly at the hotel’s coffee shop, a blended naeng-keopi in hand. He had woken up early, cleaned himself up, and had even wanked one out before arriving. The application office was due to open any second, and he was going to be ready. What he wasn’t expecting was to see the erotic stranger from yesterday sitting only a few meters in front of him. The strangers voluptuous backside was screaming to him. His eyes stared hungrily at the sub, his dick poking at the edge of his tight jean shorts even though it had received attention minutes ago. He got up, palmed his crotch, and walked towards the man, ready to finally meet his next conquest.

The submissive Korean sat apprehensively at the hotel’s coffee shop, a simple, unsweetened Korean tea in hand. He had also woken up early, cleaned himself up, and been able to grind one out before getting to the application office. He had many dreams about the sexy stranger in multiple positions. Dreams about feet, piss, feces, and overall submission were biggest recurring themes among other kinky things. Once he had got to the coffee shop that morning, he was excited to see the handsome stranger there. He purposely sat in front of him, knowing where his eyes would lurk.

Nearing the end of his drink, he heard the stranger get up and slowly walk over, but before anything coukd happen, the application office’s doors swung open.

“Wow,” the interviewer said to himself in Korean. A huge line had formed as soon as the door opened. “Looks like we’ll definitely have enough employees for the expansions.”

He ushered the first two in, noting that he might even have to start interviewing in groups with how well Lee Hae-jin’s plan was rolling. The first two were obviously eager, with one wearing a white button-up and tight jean shorts and the other adorning a lime polo and tan chino pants.

“Names?”

“Dong Hyung-sik,” the white shirt replied, not bothering to be polite towards the other.

“Kim Seo-joon,” the lime polo added, timid in the presence of the other.

“What job would you like?”

“Lifeguard,” they both responded in unison, causing the submissive Korean to blush.

“You’re both hired! Welcome to Hotel Korea.”

The two confidently walked out, going towards the alpha Korean’s room. Lee saw them pass, smirking proudly at his success. The alpha Korean slapped the submissive Korean’s butt; they had some business they had to get to.

Hotel Korea: Chapter Three

--- Originally posted on 2019-11-18 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

The Ignorant Passersby

Lee Hae-Jin looked at his watch anxiously, his bicep unintentionally flexing as he did. His workout gear stretched over his tight body as the seconds ticked away, counting down slowly. It had been almost a month since the first Hotel Korea had opened, and nearly a hundred more had been built since then, with even more being proposed in other cities. Lee’s idea had been a huge success, with more and more of the world’s population becoming Korean, but he still had more work to do.

One of his newest ideas for faster conversion was about to launch, and he had no idea how successful it would be. Lee had made sure that if it faltered, only he would be able to notice. Not everyone stayed at a hotel, so he had to find a way to change the everyday civilians. As the last second clicked away, his plan came to life. Lee looked out the window, hoping to see some sort of changes. His anxiousness quickly turned to glee.

— —

“I’ll be back in a second, bro!” Chandler said as he stomped his way to the restroom. He was lifting weights with another guy from his fraternity, Nathan, but had suddenly felt an urge to take a piss. Nathan waved him off as he ran into the men’s locker room. He looked in the mirror and was greeted by a fairly built white male, his blond hair slicked back with sweat. Although his face looked red, his Under Armour wife beater looked rather dry. Chandler grabbed his phone from his gym shorts and took a mirror selfie, the white wall behind him accenting his tanned skin.

Suddenly, Chandler felt a stirring in his bladder, a reminder to why he had come here in the first place. He rushed to a urinal and took out a heavy dick, one that was almost 6 inches and still soft. He began to piss and looked up towards posters on the wall, mindlessly reading about some concert from an unheard American band. He smirked, believing the Top 40 playlist he was listening to was much better.

As Chandler pissed away, he began to hear music playing through the vents. He focused his hearing in on the music and, after a few moments of thinking, determined that it wasn’t in English. He quickly figured out it was some K-pop boy band. It wasn’t his kind of music, or the gym’s for that matter, but he assumed there must have been some big party from the new Korean hotel down the street.

Chandler focused back on the posters, reading about the new boy band that was touring all the way from Korea. He suddenly became overjoyed as he remembered that they were his favorite band. As he finished, he tucked a smaller, yellow cock back into his gym shorts and walked back into the main area of the locker room. Each step he took slowly brought him lower until the 6’2 male was only about 175 centimeters. His arms and legs inflated and he suddenly rushed back into the stall, his dick now wanting to do more than just piss in the bathroom.

Chandler quickly closed the stall door behind him and sat on the ridge of the toilet, taking out his much smaller dick. Chandler didn’t notice the difference in length as he got hard, his cock much shorter than what it used to be hard. He moaned as he began to stroke, his once rough hands becoming small and soft with a lemony sheen. As he edged, his pecs began to fill out more, his pre-defined abs sharpening. He groaned as his shrunken balls began to churn, his hair growing out into black bangs on his head.

“신 이시여!” Chung-Hee shouted as he burst a load in the stall, the white cum sticking out on the black wall. He cleaned himself and walked out, his small, yellow feet moving quickly across the floor. He walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror, the K-pop still playing from the vents overhead and in his earbud. Chung-Hee was glad that Nam-Kyu had convinced him to come to the local Korean gym today. He was a little timid that it wasn’t going to be authentic, but the place seemed to be as if it had come straight out of his own South Korea itself. He smirked as he walked up to the mirror, his sexy Korean body looked incredible against the black wall. He brought up his phone and took a mirror selfie, making sure to hold a straight face. He was looking as 멋진 ever. He sent the picture to his boyfriend before running back into the gym.

— —

Officer Charleston sat in his car, surveying the land around him for any sort of disturbance. Right across the street from him was the Hotel Korea, a newer building that had been the center of multiple documented disappearances, as well as numerous other complaints. He had been dispatched there to see if there was any reason the department should be concerned, but as he lazily ate a bag of potato chips that rested on his large stomach, he couldn’t find anything that seemed out of place.

Officer Charleston watched strangers as he sat there, his floating eyes hiding behind a thick pair of sunglasses. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just lots of random people around the busy street. He noticed the large Korean population that seemed to be spilling out of the hotel across the street, but he assumed that what the typical crowd for a chain targeted at a certain population. Officer Charleston scratched his bushy beard and placed the bag of chips next to him. He lined his large foot up to the brake and started the car.

Right as the car spurred to life, a blast of music began pounding from the building. Officer Charleston twitched from the sheer volume before turning off his car–this was obviously some sort of noise disturbance. He opened his door and shuffled out of the car, his large frame struggling slightly. The policeman strolled to a crosswalk and waited patiently, not realizing that as he stood there his foot tapped to the beat. He also didn’t realize that he was translating the Korean in his own head, beginning to understand every word.

A stoplight flashed red and the officer crossed with his fellow pedestrians. Each step brought the policeman closer to the earth, until he was barely 172 centimeters tall. His torso began to shrink as his stomach fell in on itself, the skin turning to a soft golden. His arms and legs plumped with definition, years of age being replaced with pounds of muscle. His shorter calves and forearms became solid as he made it to the other side of the street.

The policeman hummed along to the music as his thighs expanded inside of his pants. His hands became smaller as he adjusted his name badge, his name switching from the English phonetic system to Hangul. His feet also shrunk, now being able to slip comfortably into a pair of 250 mm boots.The yellowly tone overtook the rest of the officer’s body as his hair magically began to shed, all of it disappearing from the neck below. Even his beard fell away, revealing a sturdy jaw and the most flawless skin.

As a brown bob began to grow out on his head, the officer suddenly felt a sharp pain in his crotch. He rushed out to the side of the hotel behind a dumpster, pulling down pants to reveal a stubby, lemony cock begging for attention. He grabbed his cock and stroked it carefully, his whole hand not entirely fitting. He moaned quietly, its pitch rising as his Adam’s apple sunk in. He felt his balls tremble as he took in a harsh breath.

“커밍 해요!” Security Guard Choi howled as a small load poured into his hand. He sighed before wiping it on the side of his uniform. He was glad that he was able to sneak a session in during his shift at the Hotel Korea. They were fairly lenient on breaks, but sometimes a Korean man in his youth had to get in some extra time. The watchman turned the corner back around to the front of the building and noticed a car was abnormally parked on the street. It probably was just an accident, but he had to make sure that everything was perfect at the hotel. He strode over confidently: there was nothing a fine, young Korean like himself couldn’t deal with.

— —

John just needed a break. He wasn’t supposed to have his kid for the day, but his ex dropped him off a few days early. John hadn’t been able to take off work, so now he had to drag the 9-year-old around with him everywhere he went. It was completely agonizing. As they walked downtown, the kid had to see everything, point at everything, want everything. It was the worst when they passed the new hotel a few buildings back; there was way too much to look at. John eventually gave up, telling him to sit down outside and wait as he went into a brewery to get a drink. He knew it wasn’t the best idea, but he was about to explode.

John quickly ordered a strong scotch and took a seat. Getting closer to 50 everyday, he still couldn’t believe that he had a child so young. Wasn’t his sperm supposed to stop working at one point? The kid had put so much stress on his body, helping him gain weight and lose hair. The balding man sat there quietly as a glass was carefully placed in front of him. He grumbled before grabbing it, knowing he’d have to chug it. Why couldn’t the kid just grow up?

He grabbed the glass right as new song began. It wasn’t coming from the brewery, but instead from a distance away. John didn’t notice it at first, but he slowly began subconsciously focusing more and more on the music. It wasn’t in English, but John could feel himself slowly get more and more involved in the music. His gulping turned to sipping as he started fully investing his attention in the boy-band music.

As John casually drank his whiskey, he didn’t notice his clothes slowly becoming looser on his frame. His stomach was coated in a light tan as pounds shed themselves away, the hair falling with them. While abs and pecs appeared on his frame, round biceps and triceps also began to pop up around his thickening arms. While his body became more muscular, years of age began to disappear. His shoulders and hips were coated in a lemony shade as they widened and shrunk respectively.

As more of the beer disappeared from the cup, so did John’s height. He slowly diminished in his chair, losing 16 centimeters to his height. Although his legs had contracted, his thighs and quads had become enormous. His calves had also becoming thicker, but they had lost their body hair along with the rest of John’s body. The only hair that grew in was on his head, which now was a soft, full stark-black part. John’s feet compressed as the rest of the golden shade covered his body.

Putting his root beer glass down, John began palming his groin. It had become increasingly agitated as time went on. John knew he was in public, but he had to relieve his dick right now. He dug his hands into his pants and began furiously stroking; his cock became more sensitive from its decreasing length. Suddenly, John felt his pouch scrunch up in his hands, ready for action.

“달콤한 방출!” Joon-ho squealed in a high tone as a small wet patch appeared on the front of his shirt. Joon-ho groaned in delight as he resituated himself in the chair. He picked up the Korean coffee and took a sip, smiling at its deliciousness. He knew it was dumb to come to a brewery and not get alcohol, but he didn’t care for it that much. He was still basically a kid in his early twenties, so it never appealed to him.

Speaking of feeling like a kid, he had to go find his boyfriend. He didn’t have a daddy kink, but it was clear who was in charge and who wasn’t between the two of them. Before he’d run off to find his boyfriend, he’d have to finish off this drink first.

— —

Timothy hated the hotel that had opened near his apartment. He had been living there for almost ten years, and all that time he had assumed that nothing would ever be built in the hideous lot a little less than a block away. Then, out of nowhere, a giant hotel was built, with people flowing in and out everyday. The strange thing though, Timothy noticed that people of every size, race, and age went into the hotel, but only young, attractive Koreans came out. The 40-year-old man could sense something was wrong.

Luckily for Timothy, he had just come home from work early, his boss feeling extra kind today. He rushed home and ran upstairs to his bathroom to take a hot, long bath. He prepared all the materials necessary before stripping his suit down slowly, his furry chest and legs becoming exposed to the world. Timothy knew he wasn’t the most attractive of people, with his beer gut and clunky height, but at least was fairly average. Once he was naked, the middle-aged man got into the tub, laying down so his feet stuck out the other side. Timothy rubbed a wet hand onto his head, the short, graying hair meeting him. He laid there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Timothy’s eyes jerked open as he began to hear music bouncing around his bathroom walls. He focused his ears to figure out that it was coming from the hotel, realizing it was in some kind of Asian language. At first, he was completely annoyed, but as he listened to it more, he began to like it. What the boys were singing about became enticing to him, relaxing him once more into the tub before he fell asleep.

Tae-won squinted as he woke up, his nap being a little longer than intended. He slowly pulled himself up, his small body wholely underwater. He looked over his lemony, muscled body, his proudest features all displayed finely under the bubbles. He looked over himself as he felt his small cock rise, with the absence of hair making it look even more miniscule. In fact, Tae-won was completely hairless from the armpits down–and he completely loved it.

Tae-won brought a small hand to his dick, carefully bringing it to full mast with three fingers. He whimpered as he jerked away, his cock sensitive. The boy band played in the background as he kept pushing, his short but powerful legs scrunching up to his defined torso. Tae-won pushed his brown locks to the side as he began to stroke faster. As he got to the edge, he felt his balls scrunch up to push out a load.

“여기 온다!” Tae-won yelled as his shot a miniscule load into the tub. Once he took a few deep breaths, he regained himself and slowly got out of the tub. He grabbed his red jockstrap and tight shorts, placing both on as he dried himself off. Tae-won restyled his hair into the classic chestnut bob before running downstairs. He picked up his phone and saw that he had a little less than an hour before he began his shift at the Hotel Korea. He also noticed that he had received a text from his boyfriend a few minutes ago. He opened the message, finding a picture of the other incredibly attractive Korean at the gym. Tae-won smiled, noticing his boyfriend was wearing one of the wife beaters he had given him at their last anniversary.

“Looking good, Chung-Hee,” Tae-won muttered in Korean, responding back to the picture. He guided himself back to the staircase, his tight, yellowy abs glistened under the sunlight from a nearby window. He pulled up his phone and brought it to the mirror, going from the same straight face that his partner had. His lemony features looked delicious after his long wash. He shot the picture and sent it to his boyfriend before running back upstairs to his room to get his uniform on. He had a long shift ahead of him, but, luckily for him, he loved his workplace.

— —

Milo had been waiting for his friend for almost an hour. He was parked outside of his hotel, the new one that had just opened, and he still hadn’t gotten any word from Kayler. He should’ve been worried, but for as long as he could remember, Kayler was never really one to be prompt; however, this was getting absurd.

Both Kayler and Milo had been friends since kindergarten, and the two of them would graduate in a few months from the highschool a little ways out of the city. Kayler was at the hotel for an assignment, one in which the student would observe a different culture. Of course, the Hotel Korea was the perfect choice, but Milo hadn’t heard any word from Kayler. He was supposed to pick him up after three days at the front door, but as Milo fiddled with his large shirt over his lithe body, no one ever approached his car.

Out of the blue, loud music exploded from the building Milo was parked in front of. Milo ducked for cover, taking a few moments to realize that it was not some sort of explosion, but instead K-pop. Milo didn’t know what to think of it at first, but what the boy band was singing about was strangely alluring. Milo concentrated on the noise, grooming his bright red hair as he followed along. The longer he listened to it, the more he began to enjoy it.

As the song started its first refrain, Milo hadn’t noticed how his feet were no longer tapping the brake pedal. He subconsciously pulled his chair a few inches forward as his shirt began to fill out. The once loose shirt began to tighten around the pecs and abs that were popping up by the beat. His once miniscule arms bloated, becoming muscular and dense. His calves and thighs also expanded while an amber color began to blotch out the pale white.

By the second refrain, Milo’s shirt was now strained, his large torso and biceps making it seem like the seams would rip any moment. Milo’s pants were also threatening to tear, with a large bubble butt and tree-trunk legs pushing at the silky boundaries. Hair dwindled away all around Milo’s body except for on his head, which shortened into a black sports cut. A few years packed onto to Milo as he shifted into his early twenties, while his feet shrunk into a softer size of 245 mm.

As the rest of the golden tan covered his body, Milo grabbed his average size cock and began to stroke. It got hard instantly, but didn’t lengthen at all. His hard length was now the same as what he was as soft previously. Milo didn’t notice however, for he was too focused on how incredible the bridge of the song was. As the last refrain came around the corner, Milo felt his testicles tense quickly.

“너무 좋아!” Min-kyu cried as a spray of white cum covered his shirt. He sat there for a second, breathing irregularly before regaining consciousness. He hadn’t even realized he had an audience at the passenger door.

“여보세요?” The stranger asked, causing Min-kyu to jump. He turned to the window to see his boyfriend standing at the window, still on his shift as a security guard at the hotel.

“Choissi, you scared me!” Min-kyu said in Korean as the watchman entered the car.

“Well, I didn’t know I was late to the party,” he replied back before leaning over for a kiss. As the two embraced, Min-kyu suddenly felt a buzzing in his pocket. He took out his phone to see that he had a text from his friend Kun-woo. He put his phone down and continued with the security guard. If Min-kyu had waited this long, Kun-woo could too.

— —

Gunnar sat on the uncomfortable chair extremely bored. He couldn’t believe that his lousy father had just left him at the front of a furniture store while he went off to get a drink. He didn’t even like his father. The two never connected because Gunnar had spent most of his time with his mom. They never really spent time together, and when they did, it was just awkward and always ended in some sort of argument. It was like he wasn’t even related to the man, but he knew that he had to try to stay friendly.

Gunnar brought a small bag into his lap, looking through all the things that his father did let him get. It wasn’t much, the reusable bag was just as ordinary as they things they had purchased. There were some water bottles, gloves, and a new game for his console back at his other home, but otherwise the day had proved uneventful. His father wouldn’t let him go into any of the buildings he wanted to see, especially the new hotel that had just opened down the street. Gunnar took out the water bottle to take a drink, not knowing what else to do.

Without warning, music began blasting from down the street. Gunnar choked for a second on the water he had just opened, surprised. He took the plastic bottle out of his mouth and looked towards the hotel. He could almost see the soundwaves emitting from the building, the K-pop becoming strangely alluring.

Gunnar brought the juice bottle back to his mouth, beginning to enjoy the music as it played on. As he drank, his legs began to extend themselves, the new meaty thighs and calves pushing him to a staggering 178 centimeters. Gunnar subconsciously began to manspread as his body became wider, his torso filling in with strong abs and pecs. An amber tone flooded his pale skin while his eyes became a deep brown.

While Gunnar continued guzzling pop from the bottle, his arms and shoulders began to fill out. Years of time in the gym became evident as pounds of meat were added to the boys frame. Veins became visible while his hand became round and hard, the results of numerous callouses. His expanding quads caused his shorts to pull up, now looking more like short-shorts than their previous knee-length.

As Gunnar topped off the beer bottle, he began to feel a rumbling in his balls. He had no idea what was happening, but something was telling him in the back of his mind that he should stroke his small cock. He grabbed it, and, with a sudden feeling of elation, began pumping furiously. As he did, he didn’t notice his grunts slowly becoming deeper, or how he now had to blow black bangs out of his face. Right as the yellow color covered the last of the pale skin, Gunnar felt a final push in his groin.

“달콤한 서울!” Gun-woo grunted as his jizz landed on his Corona shirt. He quickly rubbed it in before grabbing the matching bag and looking through it for a back-up outfit. All he had was an empty glass bottle, a beer koozie, and a Korean porn film for his date tonight. His date! He had completely forgotten about it, and where his partner had walked off to.

As if on cue, his boyfriend walked out of a nearby coffee shop. A grin plastered itself on Gun-woo’s face.

You look adorable, boy,” Gun-woo remarked in Korean as his boyfriend walked over.

“You aren’t too bad either, old man,” the man replied back.

“Joon-ho, you know I’m only five years older than you,” Gun-woo snarked.

“You’re talent in bed says otherwise.” Joon-ho replied, licking his lips. Gun-woo smirked as he got up to leave with his boyfriend, knowing he had a fun night ahead of him.

— —

Lee Hae-jin sat at his desk, the new information charts flooding in from every other Hotel Korea. His plan had been a huge success, as apparent by the massive spikes of local Korean populations in each location. The music was an easy choice for conversion while still being untrackable, but the problem was how he would transfer the Korean genetic code through the melodies. He had to write a song that would transform its listeners.

After tedious research, he finally came to an idea: Don’t create music, create a band. He designed his own K-pop boy band, which he cleverly named KOREABOO. They would seem like any other boy band from South Korea, but they’d only produce Lee’s music. Their voices would make the melodies that would become hypnotic to new listeners. Their words would help produce the new Korean population faster.

Lee closed the laptop and chuckled to himself. It would only be so long before the entire world would be Korean, and, more importantly, under his control.

The Interviews

--- Originally posted on 2021-02-07 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Can you guys believe we actually made it?” Elijah exclaimed proudly. Even as the tallest of the trio at 6’7, he had to arch his back to see the top of the skyscraper in front of him. Elijah had worked hard to get his degree in business, so the prospect in front of him made him feel like he was touching the finish line. He had applied for an interning position in the financial department, and the company had been so impressed with his application that they had set up an interview immediately.

“I will admit, it is pretty incredible,” Dylan added. He was in the middle of the three, having a little over average height at 5’11 and pretty good muscular tone. What really stood out about him though was his voice, for it was a powerful bass that could shake concrete walls and was completely recognizable at any event. He too had applied for an interning position in the financial department, creating a little friendly rivalry between the two.

“I’m still surprised we all made it.” Although Joe was almost a foot shorter than the giant Elijah at 5’7, he made up for his height in sheer body mass. Back in college, he had been the star wrestler of the college, giving him a body packed with pure strength and flesh. One wouldn’t be able to guess it, but Joe was also skilled in another area: accounting. He was so talented in fact that he had actually been scouted out by the company.

“I guess we should head in,” Elijah stated, making his way forward slowly. “If we actually want to work at the Carmichael Corporation, we’ll have to ace these interviews.”

“Oh yeah, like that’ll be hard,” Dylan jeered as he walked through a set of grand swinging doors. “My record is pretty well stacked. I think I have the best chance out of the three of us for this position.”

“Dude, I’m going for accounting.” Joe gave a rough eye roll, before walking off to notify the secretary of their presence.

“And like I have any competition,” Elijah scoffed as Dylan and himself took a seat on a nearby bench. “Once they see that my name was on the Dean’s List every semester, I’ll get in for sure.”

“You only got that because you were the captain of the basketball team,” Dylan mocked.

“Did not,” Elijah hurled back.

“Did too!” Dylan retorted.

“You understand that I actually worked for those grades, right?” Elijah felt himself get heated as his muscles grew tense.

“Oh you worked for them alright,” Dylan mumbled. “On your knees.”

“Excuse me, bro?!”

“You heard what I said, coc-”

“Gentlemen!”

A sharply dressed male was staring down at the two bickering companions. The man was furiously tapping a pen against his clipboard, obviously irritated. Standing tall in front of the two, he was wrapped up in a gray 3-piece suit with a checkered tie that fit well against his sculpted body. His face showed that although he acted superior, he had to be a similar age to the two young men cowering below him.

“My name is Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV, and I am one of the Accounting Managers here at the Carmichael Corporation,” he began pompously, effortlessly taking control of the situation. “If you want to work here at the Carmichael Corporation, the first concept you must learn is respect and decency to and in the workplace.”

“Sorry,” Dylan and Elijah replied in unison, deeply embarrassed and annoyed by the stuck-up prick.

“Now, I assume I will be performing one of your interviews today,” Yale took a moment to look at his clipboard. “Is one of you Joseph Koroll?”

“That’s me.” Joe appeared from behind Yale, surprising the other man a little bit. After checking in, Joe had quickly run to the bathroom to wash his face, finding he had accidentally missed a few hairs when he had shaved this morning. Not noticeable, just a little itchy.

“Exemplary,” Yale responded, causing Joe to give the other two looks that said What’s with this guy?

“Let us make our way to a correspondent room, we have a lot to cover in little time.” Before Joe could comprehend what Yale had said, the other man was already walking towards an elevator. Joe quickly scurried along, waving to his pals before he was lifted up.

“How do you think he’ll do?” Dylan pondered.

“Better than the two of us so far,” Elijah pouted.

— —

“Joseph Koroll.”

“Yes?”

Yale sat straight at his desk, constantly giving off an ill-tempered glare as he peered back and forth between Joe and Joe’s resumé. What made it even more intense was that Yale’s eyes had an oddly captivating color to them. The two sat in a small conference room on the 15th floor overlooking a part of the city below. Joe didn’t feel that nervous–he actually felt quite confident–but the giant yellow chair he sat in made him seem much smaller than he actually was. Even for his muscular figure, he barely filled half the seat, and his head did not make it anywhere near the top. Not only that, but the chair was placed in the center of the room, giving him more attention than he needed.

“I despise that I must admit it,” Yale sighed. “but your experience and credentials are rather splendid.”

“Thank you?” Joe replied back, a little confused.

“If you want to be a part of the Carmichael Corporation however, there are some aspects that must be changed or enhanced.”

“I understand.”

“The Carmichael Corporation is not some urban start-up with jeans and herbal teas. This is a very demanding industry, one that expects all employees to be obedient and loyal.”

“Of course,” Joe nodded along. “That would make sense.”

“I do not know or care what went on at your last position, but if you want to succeed in this company, it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Would you be okay with this level of obedience?”

“Yes sir.” Joe slyly added in the title, sensing he had to accept a power shift.

“That is more appropriate,” Yale smiled. “Now, let us first address the things that need to be changed to be hired. Your attire is the most noticeable facet, as it is unsightly to say in the kindest of terms.”

“Unsightly?” Joe was surprised, finding his red sweater and black slacks quite refined before making eye contact with Yale.

“And that is the kindest of words,” Yale snickered back. “If you want to succeed, you will need to learn how to dress like a man. Let me read you a small excerpt from the company handbook.”

Yale stuck a hand into his bag and pulled out the largest book Joe had ever seen. It had to be at least 1000 pages, yet Yale had no trouble finding the exact description he was looking for.

“Blazers are classic items that work for semi-formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, a blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event. Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit. Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices. Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”

Yale continued, “Supports should be practical and supportive. Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut. Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage. Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous. It is also compatible with tennis and golf; sports you will be expected to participate in and the only sports you will be allowed to play.”

Yale paused and took a deep breath. Once he had finished gathering himself, he looked over at Joe and gleamed with satisfaction. “I believe it is secure to say that you have already anticipated these particular needs of the company. Am I assuming correctly?”

“Yes sir,” Joe quickly replied. He had made sure to dress in one of his casual outfits today, something comfortable yet reputable. Along with a navy blazer that had been hung on the door, Joe had paired his classic navy polka-dotted tie with a blue button-up and wool dress pants. Sheer socks silently encased his Size 11 feet inside expensive-looking Oxfords, while two bright, yellow suspenders and a hefty watch worked as the statement pieces. He’d also made sure to shave his beard into a beautiful stubble, something that really made him seem both masculine and well-kept. Joe had originally been concerned that the look was a little too casual, but the fact that his superior had noticed it brought a smile to his lips.

“Superb,” Yale acknowledged. “If you are hired here, you will be expected to meet a certain standard of fitness.”

Yale once again examined Joe before meeting eyes, causing Joe to respond with a smug look.

“Interpreting what I have seen and read, I suspect you will be engaging in a routine similar to the one when you were in varsity golf?”

“Very similar, indeed.” Joe resituated himself in the chair, sitting a little straighter to truly show off his 6’1 height. His tight clothing did an impeccable job showcasing his muscular build, which wasn’t as massive as a bodybuilder’s but definitely imposing. He kicked up one of his Size 14 feet onto his knee, knowing he could now get a little more comfortable.

“You will also need to adapt to our image of masculinity, Joe. This is something that has an adjusting definition for everyone here at the Carmichael Corporation. Do you understand what I am referring to?”

“Not exactly, sir.”

“To explain further,” Yale eyes had a piercing gleam to them. “the duty of a man is to understand that when lacking in some areas of presence, he must identify other ways to consume the devoid territory. Men are meant to take up a certain amount of space, no matter their stature. This does seem appropriate, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Joe completely interpreted what Yale was referring to. It was only natural that some men had larger presences than others, so it was Joe’s duty to match that same standard. Readjusting in his seat once more, Joe felt his wide, plump bottom jiggling about, consuming the entirety of the extra wide seat. He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a distinct moose knuckle. The fluid movement accidentally made him hard, but Joe knew no one would be able to see his 4 inches.

“Now, I believe the next issue is your tone and speech.” Yale pulled out his handbook once more and flipped to another random page.

“Our manual refers to multiple accessible forms of dialogue, but you will be working with men of all ages from assets and banking within accounting. Therefore, it would be best if you learned how to speak slower and adapt your vocabulary to something better cultivated.”

“Why would that help me exactly?” Joe questioned.

Yale, once again annoyed by Joe’s indecency, glared directly at him before explaining. “It will deepen your voice and give you more presence, which will be extremely helpful in business. You will also be able to use a fuller, more masculine tone–much like my own. I expect that is what you desire?”

“Yes sir.” The words spilled out in nearly double the time they had before. Joe’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke as every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.

“Finally, if you aspire to work at the Carmichael Corporation, it is imperative that you adjust your title.” Yale moved along calmly, not at all caring about Joe’s confusion. “Joe is a very informal name. Lazy and lackadaisical. It sets you up casually in a professional world, agree with me?”

“I guess I don’t know…” Joe muttered, his voice sluggish and insensitive.

“In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression. The men in these industries expect a certain standard of professionality, even in your title. And you must give yourself every possible advantage.”

“Yes, of course sir,” Joe monotoned.

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as your full name, John Millard Koroll.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but that is not-”

“And where is your surname from?” Yale interrupted. “Is it German?”

“No, it is most certainly-”

“Make it German. It will give you a much more asserting presence. And I reckon a suffix would add some competency as well. From now on, we shall refer to each other by our full names to emulate what the atmosphere is like here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Joe was still at a loss over the last few comments. He was starting to feel a little panicked over the thought of losing his own identity to the corporate world, but before he could think any further on the topic, Yale stepped in.

“That will work for you, will it not,” Yale stood up from his chair and extended a hand, making sure to share a mutual gaze with Joe. “John Millard Koehler III?”

“By all means, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.” John Millard’s thick, slow voice drawled out. He got out of his own seat and shook Yale’s hand in a firm motion.

“Splendid!” Yale replied. “Then I can confidently declare that you are precisely what the Carmichael Corporation is scouting for. John Millard Koehler III, you will be starting as early as next week.”

“That is just grand!” John Millard responded cordially. “It is truly an honor, my gratitude, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.”

“The honor is all mine, you will be an illustrious addition to our department.” Yale sat back down in his chair and ushered John Millard to do the same. “Before I dismiss you, let us discuss acquisitions and the baseline salary. Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we want to make sure that you can ‘be audit you can be’.”

The two chortled merrily at the accounting joke before getting back to business, knowing they had a prosperous future ahead.

— —

“It’s been almost an hour,” Elijah exhaled. “Shouldn’t Joe be done with his interview by now?” The two other men were still sitting on the same bench, waiting for anyone to come and greet them like Yale had appeared before. Countless businessmen had passed in front of them, but all of them seemed so eager to work that they didn’t recognize the recently-graduated college students.

“I don’t know,” Dylan replied honestly, twisting a lock of his curly mane within his fingers out of boredom. “I mean maybe this is the corporate world and everything takes a little longer than expected.” He then stretched to loosen up his joints, showcasing the body of a former running back for everyone to see.

“Yeah, but how many questions do they have to ask to see if Joe is a good fit or not?”

“Apparently a lot.” Dylan began swinging his legs back and forth like a child on a swing to entertain himself. The Size 13 canvas shoes went to and fro, hypnotizing him more than they should have. Elijah watched on too, somehow entertained by the small amount of movement.

“Ahem.”

The two young men quickly shot up off the bench, standing solid. In front of them was a brawny man between the pair’s heights. He looked to be somewhere around sixty, as displayed by his slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jaw, and robust torso. His body was brilliantly exhibited in a multi-layered suit, one that displayed every shade from silver to slate.

“I assume the two of you are here for the hiring process, correct?”

The two men nodded their heads quickly.

“Very good.” The man made a quick glance at Dylan and motioned him to follow. Dylan did just that, giving a thumbs-up to Elijah before disappearing down a hall.

— —

“Dylan Pringle.”

“Yes… sir?”

Dylan watched a small smile creep onto the man’s lips after his little addition. There had been a few minutes of back and forth eye contact from Dylan’s resumé and Dylan himself, but he wasn’t feeling too apprehensive. Although the man seemed extremely uptight, Dylan knew there was nothing in his credentials that wouldn’t seem impressive. Plus, the man had already seemed to take a liking to Dylan, as he had been escorted to an expansive office that Dylan assumed had to be the man’s own. It was simply decorated with a few modern black-and-white pictures and two tables lined with retro leather chairs. There were also a few closets and coat racks holding different suits and other formal wear, probably owned by the man himself.

“I must inform you that the position you have applied for has already been filled.”

The sentence came as a shock to Dylan, causing him to twitch a little in his seat. Dylan was so perplexed that he had to examine the man’s eyes carefully to see if he was telling the truth. He was surprised to discover that they had an oddly charming hue.

“I would regard that as a godsend however, as you were not at all qualified for the position.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan’s bass tone became thundering. “I have everything the job requires… and more!”

“Surely you meant to say ‘Sorry Sir, is there another position open?’ as here I thought you were serious about working here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Dylan was once again caught off-guard.

“Hmm, they told me you were more articulate.” The man made a disappointed grimace before moving on. “I was willing to offer you another position working under me rather than in the financial department as it seems you have no competence in the area. That is generous of me, is it not?”

“Yes, definitely sir.” Dylan was relieved that he still had a chance to work at the Carmichael Corporation, especially after applying for a job he never could have performed.

“Good.” The man walked over to a table and grabbed a rather large book. Dylan was able to catch a quick peek as the man passed by, noticing the pages were lined with questions and guides. Dylan hoped these weren’t all going to be used in the interview for the other position.

“There are a few things you will need to learn quickly if you expect to succeed in this business, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Dylan made sure to maintain eye contact to confirm his answer.

“Very good. First, we have a completely reasonable dress code here. I know you may not have expected to wear a suit every day, but it will be required. And by a suit, I expect a minimum of 3 layers in some shape or form.” Dylan cringed in his seat barely, knowing that his black turtleneck and jeans probably didn’t make the cut.

“Sir, are you-” Before Dylan could protest, the man pushed forward.

“I find a certain degree of conformity aids in office morale, is that not fair? I can tell by how you present yourself you also believe this to be true.”

“It is fair, sir.” Dylan agreed. He always made sure to wear multiple articles underneath his blazer, as it made him feel more polished. Even though he was forced to take off his tan blazer at the door, it had allowed him to expose the other garments on his body. These included matching tan pleated pants that graciously showed off his hefty pouch, a white button-up with matching white suspenders that strained heavily against his pecs, and a striped tie that shared the same charcoal color with his wing-tipped derbies. Readjusting his glasses, Dylan waited patiently for the man to continue.

“I believe it is also appropriate to have a strict haircut policy. Your hair is to be cut every two weeks, and I will refer you to my own barber. You will style it neatly and you will use whatever product I chose.”

“Sir, if I may interrupt.”

“No, you may not.” The man glared down on Dylan. “I expect to see comb lines so sharp that even from a mile away a man could tell you know how to use pomade. Understood?”

“Completely, sir.” Dylan felt like this task would be no problem, as he already maintained his hair strictly. Brushing a hand across his scalp, he was delighted to feel his sharp quiff still held stiffly in place with not a single hair sticking out. He also made sure to rub a hand across his jaw, feeling up the sculpted beard contemptuously.

“Now, you recognize that you would not be starting at the top, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Meaning that you would have a certain number of superiors, including myself, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“So to clarify,” the man began, making sure that their eyes met so he could verify. “You would be an inferior male, underneath me and a plethora of other men.”

“Wait, that isn’t-” Dylan’s booming register was somehow once again cut off.

“You will need to present yourself to this position accordingly, but I believe it is fair to say that will not be an issue.”

“That is accurate, Sir,” Dylan replied reverently in a soft, creamy tenor. He understood where he was on the ladder, and how he’d have to act accordingly. Still sitting in his chair comfortably, the 5’7 man brought his legs closer together, allowing the sides of the Size 8 feet to touch. While doing so, Dylan felt his micropenis twitch eagerly inside his tight briefs, sending an excited reaction to the hole between his two jiggly, doughy buttocks.

“You will also be expected to attend to some other needs of mine,” Sir started. “Dry cleaning, note taking, errands, and the like.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“You will be loyal, you will be obedient, and you will be my dedicated servant.”

“Sir,” Dylan’s meek voice began. “What do you-”

“To work and succeed at the Carmichael Corporation,” Sir declared through fiery eyes. “it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.” Dylan was willing to do just about anything that could give him an advantage in business; anything that would make his superiors pleased.

“So with that said,” Sir leaned back in his chair happily, dropping the handbook on the desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “If I were to ask you to, say, change your name, would you do that for me?”

“Yes Sir,” Dylan lied through his teeth. He was willing to do just about anything, but not that.

“Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we like to go by our full titles as they allude to more professional, defined statuses.”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“Let’s first start with Dylan: just a gross, common name. You agree?”

Dylan didn’t, but the thought of a superior changing his name was suddenly tantalizing.

“Personally, I believe you would be more suited as a Dorrance. And for the surname, well,” Sir chuckled wickedly to himself. “Pringle was never an actual name, just a detrimental snack. You would be much better suited with Peabody. Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking. Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.”

Before Dylan could fire back a string of arguments, Sir had ascended out of his throne and extended a strong palm.

“Congratulations, Dorrance Rotterham Peabody, Jr.,” Sir seemed very pleased with himself. “You will be a great fit as my new personal assistant.”

“Thank you immensely, Sir!” Dorrance replied, jumping out of his chair in excitement and eagerly shaking the man’s hand. “How soon may I begin to work under you?”

“Right away, boy.” Sir made sure to emphasize the demeaning word. “I have a few outfits I need you to sort through and approve of, as you know my taste quite exquisitely.”

“Of course, Sir.” Dorrance followed Sir to a table covered in sheets displaying different suits and styles. He immediately immersed himself into the work, separating out the preferable blacks, navys, and grays from the disgusting other palettes. This extremely pleased Sir, so much so that he wanted to reward Dorrance with something special. So, Sir gave Dorrance’s butt a big appreciation swat as he strutted away, causing Dorrance’s ample rump to shudder within his pants as he continued his work.

— —

Elijah grimaced, noticing the time on the gigantic clock inside the main lobby had only moved by a minute. The wait had been a lot longer than he had expected, forcing him to cancel an event with friends and a hookup from Grindr. It had been about an hour since Dylan had been taken away to his interview, and almost 2 hours since Joe’s disappearance. He was concerned about what this meant for them, but he was becoming more concerned about what this could’ve possibly meant for himself. Maybe he didn’t have a chance within the Carmichael Corporation. Elijah was beginning to feel as if the employers had completely forgotten him when a young man magically appeared before him, answering his plea.

The man wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly strained at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch. It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button-up shirt and a gray tie with a subtle windowpane pattern. He carried a briefcase that looked both rather expensive and rather ordinary. The young man stood ramrod straight, his muscular build hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His powerful jaw–while covered in a little youthful baby fat–spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape.

“Elijah Grove.”

“Yes?”

“I assume you are the last respondent today?” His voice was slow and deep, catching Elijah off guard.

“I guess?”

“Do you guess or do you know?” The young man seemed to get rather disgusted by Elijah’s uncertainty. “If you expect to succeed at the Carmichael Corporation, you are going to have to know.”

“I-” Elijah was almost sure he saw the young man’s eyes flash dazzlingly as he began. “I know I am the last respondent, yes.”

“Grand.” The man ushered Elijah to get up and tread closely behind. Following quickly, Elijah was surprised to see that they were leaving the building.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elijah chose his words carefully. “Where are we going?”

“I am fond of conducting my interviews over promenades,” the young man replied. They steered their way around crowds of businessmen as they ventured into the streets, making random turns here and there. “It shows how well you can think on your feet, literally. It is an aptitude you will need to be proficient in if you want to become an Associate like myself.”

“Associate?” Elijah blinked a few times out of confusion, knowing that he had applied to work as an intern in the financial department. Although he was a few inches taller than the young man, he was having a little difficulty catching up, causing him to fall in and out of the conversation.

“Indeed,” the man misinterpreted the question. “I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions and advanced from Junior Associate to an Associate. Fascinating, is it not?”

“Sure.”

The two strolled a little further out of the city, moving away from the busy center where the Carmichael Corporation headquarters stood. They came upon streets a little emptier then before until they finally turned into an old park. It was actually quite beautiful, covered in old knotty trees and overgrown plants. Birds were constantly chirping and squirrels chased after each other like there was no tomorrow. It was also littered in large stones, adding an oddly picturesque feel to it. Elijah was surprised that he had lived in the city for so long and had never once been to this place.

After a while more of walking, the man led them to an old picnic table before turning around and offering a large, rough hand. Confused, Elijah accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones. Elijah had kept his body fit since his high school basketball days, so he was surprised to feel such a sheer strength in the young man’s shake.

“My name is Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.,” the young man stated before placing his briefcase down and taking a seat at the table. “Our interview should not extend too lengthily, as I have some imperative work to attend to after this.”

“What would that be?” Elijah asked earnestly, his jovial tone a major contrast to Keating’s flat, molasses-like demeanor. At 6’7, it was fairly difficult for him to get his skinny legs under the table, but he managed.

“I have been assigned to a downtown acquisition project, a potential development on 520 Porter where we need to clear the lot.”

“Huh, okay,” Elijah strangely got interested. “So what is it that you are removing?”

“Currently the future site of the Carmichael Settlement on Porter is occupied by this park we are lounging in right now.”

“This park?” Elijah was surprised. “But it’s stunning! There’s so much life and nature here. You wanna tear it down?”

“It is an eyesore and it occupies a lot with high economic potential. It is better suited for development.”

“How could you be such a soulless jerk?” Elijah scolded, getting angrier faster than he had anticipated. He began caring less and less about the job and more about his own morality. Sure, Elijah got how important money was, but he didn’t think he would be able to live with the guilt of destroying an animal’s habitat, let alone an entire population’s. “Don’t you understand what you would be doing? The impact this will have?”

“I’m offended by your tone.” Even after being insulted, Keating’s voice still sounded low, slow, and empty. His eyes however seemed to flare up before he continued. “And yes, I understand exactly the impact this will have. It will create a serviceable, profitable property for the Carmichael Corporation, which in turn will compensate me with enough money to survive. That is what any respectable man like you and I would desire.”

“Survive?” Elijah mocked, now getting extremely annoyed that Keating had compared the two of them.

“Obviously.” Keating wasn’t defending himself, but instead explaining what he thought was a common fact. “I just bought a house out in Fenwick, the only neighborhood in this squalid city with expansive acreage, tree-shaded streets, and good schools. It is very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood, especially one with the seven bedrooms, four floors, and private tennis court I required. Plus, I’m working on my country club application. The application fee alone is $50,000. Looking over your records earlier, I had gathered that was something you desired as well, correct?”

“Yes, that is true.” The idea was buried inside Elijah’s mind. Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it was embedded deep, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club. It was always the goal to move out to Fenwick for corporate shark Elijah.

“I am relieved that that is settled.” Keating opened his briefcase to reveal a combination of different documents, papers, and a massive book that Elijah couldn’t believe fit in the bag. Keating proceeded to pull it out and flipped open to a page somewhere in the middle.

“To become an Associate, you will first be assigned underneath me as a Junior before moving up the ladder. You will still make a good deal of money however, so do not feel too unsettled. Do you understand?”

Although they were maintaining a shared gaze, Keating was not able to read the confusion on Elijah’s face.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s correct.” Elijah was here for a position in the financial department, not to be an Associate, so he was embarrassed to point out the error that Keating had made. Not embarrassed enough however to not correct him.

“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects,” Keating answered, once again misreading. “I believe that will be appropriate compensation, am I accurate?”

“Yes, indeed you are,” Elijah replied cheerfully, glad that the issue was all cleared up. He had wanted to start as an Associate right away as he was worried it the Junior position wouldn’t give him the pay he had hoped for, but apparently it wasn’t that far below. Plus, if he did well, he could quickly move up like Keating had.

“Your job will require calls, lots of calls,” Keating droned, his piercing eyes drilling right into Elijah’s. “Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests. A few calls will be less productive, with upset protestors yelling at you about our improvement upon the lot. You will have to decelerate your speech to command attention better. Be direct and contain emotions. You will be better suited to appear calm and in control at all times. There is no need to ever appear energetic or excited.”

The hurling of information confused Elijah. “So you are saying I shouldn’t care about the clients?”

“Yes,” Keating confirmed. “You can try being sympathetic, but you will quickly find that being stern and direct will get them off the line quicker so you can return to work. Based off of what I have already perceived, this will not be a hindrance.”

“Thank you.” Elijah found himself mimicking Keating’s voice: deep, dull, and disinterested.

“There are many perks of the job, including a corporate gym on the fifth floor which I highly recommend you use.” After investigating Elijah’s long, fit body, Keating brought his eyes back to Elijah’s own. “We expect every man to have a sense of presence at the Carmichael Corporation. Currently, you are far from meeting those standards.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elijah responded. It was hard for a man of his height to keep a healthy weight. A high metabolism meant he was always fairly skinny, but he didn’t expect it would be such a problem.

“The gym is a good source of weight training,” Keating continued, ignoring the question. “I personally workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards. You will be expected to maintain a similar routine. It appears however that you already understand the importance of presence, but if you are interested in a tour of the corporate gym I would not be affronted.”

“Thank you, I would be very fond of that.” Elijah smiled politely after his reply, moving his legs a little under the picnic table. At 6’3, it was a little difficult for him to keep his well-defined legs under the table, but he managed. Although he’d left golf after college (and hoped to get back into it with his admission into the country club) Elijah had made sure to keep his body in excellent shape by working out almost everyday. His proof could be seen through the skin-tight quarter-zip sweater and the black khaki’s that hugged his meaty quads and calves.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we do have a dress code, but it is reasonably undemanding.” Keating turned the manual around to show Elijah. The page that Keating had flipped to displayed a model covered head to toe in a full, very dapper yet very posh suit. Elijah’s eyes fluttered quickly before looking back to Keating for confirmation.

“‘Reasonably undemanding’?”

“I would say so. A suit works as the foundation of a man’s future in business.” Keating closed the handbook and placed it back into his briefcase. Elijah could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of Keating’s mouth during the action. “I appreciate that you have already generated this knowledge.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” Elijah flourished, his voice still plodding. Elijah had made sure to pick out an outfit that had shown off all of his best features. First, a drab, beige, perfectly-cut jacket with matching pleated pants, accompanied by a striped salmon button-up that contrasted well against his pale skin. He had matched his coffee-colored tie to similar shaded Size 13 tassel loafers and a pair of bronze supports that were hidden expertly beneath his coat. Finally, he had styled his blond hair into a fashionable ivy-league cut, making sure to also get a fresh shave earlier that morning. Just the thought of himself in the outfit made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 6.5-inch mast.

“There are only a few more things we must address, one being your character and ethics.”

“What is it the company expects?” Elijah asked.

“You must understand,” Keating glared. “the Carmichael Corporation expects every man to share the same morale system. We want a unified front; a collective conscience per say.”

“Alright,” Elijah accepted. “What are these shared values?”

“There are the equitable ideals like marrying a woman of the same class, having an abundance of children, and being a member of good standing at multiple prestigious clubs.”

Elijah sighed to himself quietly while still maintaining eye contact, disappointed in these old-fashioned beliefs.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we also have intimate objectives that stand high above the others. You must want to move upwards on the corporate ladder. You must want to fully commit yourself to your work. You must want to embody everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich. You must want to be every title a man should own: sportsman, fraternity brother, and avaricious. You want money, do you not?”

“Yes,” Elijah confirmed deliberately. “I want money.” This brought a greedy sneer spread to Keating’s face. Elijah felt like a low, deep, and great truth had awoke inside him. Luckily, the Carmichael Corporation’s principles had aligned perfectly to his own.

“Very good.” Keating eyes also seemed to grin wildly. “Now, two imperative adjustments I would personally like to make. The first is your name.”

“My name?” Elijah opposed.

“Yes, you will need something stronger, more outdated to establish yourself as a man of the Carmichael Corporation. Is that not true?”

“Yes, I do believe that to be true,” Elijah suddenly affirmed. “Please tell me what you think my name should be.”

“Your name is not the only dilemma however, but also your nationality,” Keating resumed. “I believe a British origin would give you a brilliant presence. More mannerful, much more respectable, and it would help establish you as a leading man. Plus, a legacy will give you generational value. What do you think?”

“I-”

“But,” Keating cut off before Elijah could even attempt to reply. “I should not be bashful in saying that you already represent all those factors. Care to agree, Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth?”

“Most certainly,” Emerson acknowledged accordingly in a pretentious accent. He was a diligent, hard-working, and prosperous Brit, and those were only the first words that came to his head. Some may have called him smug and arrogant, but he was really just confident and self-assured. He resembled the epitome of a real man, as displayed by his stunning suit that contrasted his tanned skin eloquently. His dark, chestnut hair and beard also gave off a shocking amount of masculinity. Just the thought of himself and his own superiority made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 9-inch mast. He was by no means a repulsive sodomite, but he could admit a handsome man when he saw one. And he was a handsome man.

“So what do you convey, Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.?” Emerson began, taking a stand with his Size 15 feet planted firmly beneath him. “Do you believe I could become a Junior Associate at the Carmichael Corporation.”

“By all means,” Keating replied, getting up and extending a hand forward. “You’ll be a fashionable fit.” They gave a single sturdy shake before finishing their business. While heading towards the exit, they held a light conversation about stocks, each having grabbed a business edition of the Times along the way.

Gripping the paper tightly as they drifted away from the park, Emerson felt almost restless. The idea of stripping away that atrocity of a park to add in a new, profitable site was so thrilling it was mildly arousing. After his success here, Emerson knew he would receive a promotion, which pleased him mightily. Making their way across a boulevard, Emerson watched the Carmichael Corporation’s headquarters come into view, the place where he knew he would accomplish everything he desired.

Identity Death

--- Originally posted on 2024-04-12 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

As directed by @mrrharper

“Endless war will end our world!” Alan shouted.

“Stop funding our military!”

Alan was amongst the hundreds of protestors at the courthouse fighting against the proposed budgetary reforms. Schools, roads, transportation, parks, environmental protections agencies–they were all on the line. Through the presented bill, thousands of institutions would be shut down as billions of dollars would be rerouted towards a single entity: the military.

“The military corrupts! Stop the brainwashing!” Alan spat. He had organized this event under his alias, a popular political blogger on multiple social media outlets. Although his voice was loud and aggravated, Alan's physical appearance was anything but. He wore a baby blue tee and white-washed skinny jeans. 5’7 with bleached hair. All he needed was a rainbow somewhere to perfect his twink look. But he was not here to make that kind of statement. He was at the protest to make another form, something that could gain traction. Peering across the crowd, Alan saw his chance. 

A few of Alan’s fellow protestors were bombarding one of the towering guards with jeers. They scrutinized him, although it appeared none of their words got through the soldier’s heavy artillery padding. In fact, the solider stood proud in his position, dominantly poised with his chest puffed up in pride. Alan approached the guard slowly, noticing he remained perfectly still as the protestors continued to insult him. Without thinking twice, Alan approached and made his move. 

“How about you show us what they’re really funding, dickhead?”

Alan threw a fist at the soldier, putting all his strength behind the movement. Due to the crowds, the soldier did not recognize the motion until it was too late. Alan’s knuckle dove right into the much taller man’s neck, ricocheting into the muscular, masked chin. Instantly, there was a cheer from the crowd at the successful blow, but it was quickly hushed.

“You pathetic cocksucker,” the soldier growled. In a flurry, the once peaceful statue became a merciless brute, swinging down and dragging Alan out of the crowd. Before he knew it, Alan found himself handcuffed with the soldier escorting him off into the enemy’s territory.

“You can’t do this! This is illegal!” Alan cried out. 

“Shut your whiny mouth.” As soon as they were out of public sight, the soldier slapped Alan hard across the face. The warmth of blood soon filled his cheeks where the bruise began to bloom. Alan made sure not to react, but he could not hide the worry in his voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The barracks, you fairy prick.”

The soldier brought Alan to a building not too far from the protest lines. He guided them down numerous hallways, Alan losing track before they even made it halfway there. There were checkpoints, various nods, and some curt conversations with other soldiers, but nobody questioned about Alan or the situation. Eventually, Alan was tossed into a small makeshift bedroom, only holding a cot and a pile of unwashed clothes.

“Get undressed,” the soldier demanded.

“Why should I listen to you?”

Alan was met with another forceful assault, this time a punch to his gut.

“Cause I’m First Sergeant, maggot, which means out of the two of us, I’m in charge.”

Alan scoffed. “Is that your name: ‘First Sergeant’?”

“First Sergeant QF24,” the soldier gruffly shot back.

“That’s not a name either,” Alan replied. 

“Been in service so long I don’t need a civilian name.”

Alan wanted to jump on this, make a point about how this was evidence of the dangers of the military, but First Sergeant continued.

“While my identity is real, I assume the one you were about to give me is not. What do you go by, something like that 'AlanActivist' snot?”

Alan blushed, believing that his pseudonym had been cool and unique.

“It’s about time you considered that maybe it is not the military that enforces this ‘identity death’ you all are so worried about, but your own belief system.”

“You can’t be serious,” Alan snarked, surprised at the soldier’s intelligent argument. First Sergeant was however humorless, once again pointing to the pile of discarded clothes.

“Get dressed, degenerate.”

The soldier placed one of his giant, gloved hands behind the twink’s back and pushed him towards the pile. It appeared to Alan as a giant heap of army green and camouflage. Slowly but hesitantly, he began to strip himself of his clothing, hoping to avoid any further hazing. Once down to his underwear, he silently pleaded that he would not have to drop anything else.

“Soldiers go commando, sissy.”

First Sergeant quickly appeared behind Alan before ripping his underwear clean off, exposing the twink’s bare bottom and small package to the world. Alan quickly covered himself up with one hand before leaning down towards the pile. He grimaced, his fear no longer overriding the powerful musk seeping from the military cloth. First Sergeant chuckled at his disgust from behind.

“Aren’t homos supposed to like that kind of thing?” he asked, before grabbing the back of Alan’s head. “Go on, get a better whiff of it!” Amused, First Sergeant plunged Alan’s head into the musky pile of clothes. Alan’s oxygen supply was cut off, forcing him to inhale the overpowering masculine fumes.

“You idiots never consider that being in the military is hard work. It’s not all fun and guns.” First Sergeant smothered Alan’s head further. “‘Bout time you realize what it’s like, standing on the front line all day, hot and sweaty and random strangers berating you for protecting their country, their freedom.”

The military body odor seeped into Alan’s system, numbing his body and clouding his mind. By the time he was pulled away, the naked twink struggled to form a coherent thought.

“Much better,” First Sergeant noted the lopsided smile on the twink’s face. “Now, fit yourself into some tactical gear.”

Without questioning it, Alan followed the soldier’s command. He did not know every single piece of equipment that went into the common soldier’s uniform, nor did he understand the procedure to follow, but somehow Alan managed to get the attire onto his body.

Combat pants, military-grade socks, gore tex boots. Camouflage button-up, hardshell jacket, belt with holster and magazine pouches. Shooting gloves, army print hat, face mask. It took a minute longer for Alan to place every minor piece of tactical protection onto himself, but finally his smaller frame was completely covered, dwarfed by the oversized gear.

“Looking like a real soldier there,” First Sergeant mocked. “Now let’s actually make you one.”

Already covered in the musky clothing, Alan’s intellectual ability had been dulled considerably. But when First Sergeant approached, clutching Alan’s head once more before shoving it into his wet armpit, his brain completely halted. Coming straight from the source, the soldier’s stench wafted past all Alan’s barriers, taking control immediately. Its first instruction was to keep sniffing, its second was to conform.

With a chuckle, First Sergeant watched as Alan’s body began to expand underneath his hold. The shrimpy twink grew inside of the tactical gear, filling it out properly in every direction. Muscular arms filled the sleeves of the jacket, meaty hands stuffing the crevices of the gloves. The vest became as padded on the back as it was in the front, juicy pectorals and rigid abdominals forcefully pushing against the fabric. 

Thicker thighs padded the pants, bloated feet crowded the massive boots. Two muscular buttocks crammed the seat of Alan’s pants. A lantern jaw and cleft chin became prominent underneath the face mask. Buzz cut hidden by the cap, deeper voice waiting to confirm with “Sir, yes sir!” First Sergeant even noticed the prominent padding his new soldier was developing beneath the belt. When he ultimately removed Alan from his hold, the man before him now stood at the same domineering height.

“Good, now just stand still for one moment.”

Even if he wanted to, Alan could not move. The musk was still lingering in his mind, holding him steady as First Sergeant deposited an obnoxious military headset onto Alan’s head. He then plugged the headset into a walkie-talkie before tuning it to an empty channel. A robotic voice began looping into Alan’s ears, along with a few simple tones to open up the receptive pathways in his brain.

“Ready to get back out there?” First Sergeant asked, knowing his fellow soldier could not hear him. With a smirk, he escorted the dumbfounded subordinate out of the room, pacing slowly as Alan absorbed the propaganda. It was simple phrases, nothing too complicated but through repetition effective on the psyche. “Military good,” “pacifism bad”. “Nationalism good,” “multiculturalism bad.” “Masculinity good,” “progressivism bad.” The messages were rudimentary, but deliberate.

Once they stepped back into the open, fresh air, Alan’s consciousness resurfaced. He tried to fight back against the rampant messaging, doing his best to tune out the audios as the First Sergeant led him back to the front line. Alan was being attacked on all fronts: his morals, his identity, his sexuality. Every time he turned away to defend one trait, it was like he lost another. He felt himself dwindling, chipping away.

Before long, the two stood directly in front of the courthouse, mere feet away from their first encounter. First Sergeant loaded the new soldier up, arming the man with a weapon and other items necessary in case of an emergency.

“Let’s see if you’re done cooking yet.” First Sergeant looked directly into his subordinate’s eyes, pleased with their reflective quality. He then removed the headphones.

“Name and rank, soldier?” he saluted. The other man fell into place, mirroring his actions.

“Private Aaron Steel, MH36 sir!”

First Sergeant smiled. The name change was a good sign of transition, but complete removal would have been preffered.

“Ready for the task, soldier? Will you be loyal and obedient to the greatest nation? Follow every instruction in the name of tradition?”

The soldier nodded his head quickly, “Affirmative, sir.”

“Alright then.” First Sergeant replaced the headphones back onto the private’s head, knowing a little more time would do the trick. “Dismissed. Get back to work, private.”

“Sir yes sir!”

First Sergeant strolled back to his command at the front line. The new private monitored the crowd, absorbing his commands as he scanned for any disturbances.

What the Athletic Department Needs

Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…and of Maturitatem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait… what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know, Coach.”

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

“Yeah, Coach.”

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

“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”

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

“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.

“Try it on me.”

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

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

“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.

“Yeah bro?”

“Are you missing anything?”

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

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

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

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

An Unsatisfied Revenge

This guy used to be such a cock hungry bottom twink. He would go into the club and then come out hours later like a pound heavier without having gone to the bar, if you catch my drift. Well, those days are over for him! Hahahaha!

You see, my man cheated on me and I’m sure you can guess with who by now. He said it was a temptation too great to resist. Can’t say I didn’t believe him. I heard the guy could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. But no matter, plenty of guys don’t cheat on boyfriends, regardless of any temptations, so I already dealt with him. I just also had to deal with the couple breaker. You know how it is.

Of course, what transpired next was just thoroughly annoying. This twerp, who proudly could have handled any stick south of the Mason-Dixie line, was made to have a massive body too big for his clothes and couldn’t fit a needle up there. And you know what he says? “Thanks! I was getting bored of bottoming all the time! I always wanted to try topping guys but they always laughed at me and then just fucked me raw anyways! Time to go back to all of them and do to them what they did to me! They’ll probably love it even more! Uhuhuhuh!”

Ugh…

New Bodies - Raul & Chad

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this, Chad” I said, shaking my head as I sipped on my whiskey and coke.

“I still can’t believe you agreed to it, honestly,” Chad said, laughing.

There was only 10 minutes left before the online polls closed - the polls that would effectively transform both Chad’s body and my body for an entire week. We had both spent the day together just lounging around the house. I made breakfast, we watched a couple movies, and over the last couple hours, we started doing our own things while chilling on the couch, clad in nothing but a hat and underwear. Chad was busy playing on his Playstation and I downloaded a couple music albums that had been out for a while, but I never got around to listening to.

I wouldn’t openly admit it to Chad, but I was nervous. I had no idea what the Internet had in store for us. I mean, what if they completely crossed us and put in completely dissatisfying bodies as a joke? Made me like, 50 years old, turned Chad into a child, and I’d have to take on a parental role for the week. I was not down for that whatsoever. So, I set down a few safety nets: We couldn’t get any younger than 18, and we couldn’t get older than 35. We would still be aware of who we were, and how we used to look. And finally, I made sure that reality would, as usual, shift around us and we’d be able to behave and live life like our new bodies had always looked that way.

But, a deal was a deal. This change was going to happen, whether I completely agreed with it or not.

“Call it a lapse of judgment,” I said, still drinking from my glass.

“Babe,” Chad said, pausing his game and turning to look at me. “Trust me, it won’t be that bad. It might even be fun. And we’ll be here for each other, to look after each other and take care of each other, even if things do go totally sour.”

Chad was right. Things would be fine. After all, the change was just for a week. I needed to swallow my pride, and let things fall into place, especially if this little experiment was going to make my man happy.

“Okay, Chad,” I said, exhaling. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just haven’t done anything like this before. I’m usually the one doing the transformations, not the person getting transformed in ways I didn’t exactly approve.”

“I get it,” Chad said. “It’ll definitely be an interesting experience for you. But it’ll be over before you know it!”

I nodded and glanced over at the clock on the wall. 23:57. In just a few moments, I was going to have to kiss this perfect body goodbye for seven days. I stood up and walked over to the full-length mirror. I quietly mourned over the physique I had carefully crafted over the past year, flexing and posing in numerous angles.

“Just a week,” I said, quietly.

“Getting one last look?” Chad said, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I’m sure you’re going to be just as beautiful when this is all over,” Chad said, kissing my cheek.

Taking Chad’s hand, I walked us over to the middle of our living room.

“Okay, Chad,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I only have a bit to explain this but, here goes nothing. My transformation will take place first. While I’m transforming, don’t try to touch my body or anything. Let the transformation completely finish first; I’ll let you know when that is. If the transformation feels like it’s being fought against or interrupted, there’s really no telling what could happen since I have set this to occur without my interaction.”

“Once my new body is finished, we’ll have a minute or two to talk before your change begins. Once you’re fully transformed, then we’ll be able to actually talk about what happened, explore our bodies, and see exactly what the online polls say and how people voted.”

“Okay, Raul,” Chad said, nodding. “I understand. I’m ready.”

I nodded in return, watching the second hand on the clock slowly creep towards…

Midnight.

“Fuck,” I said, extending my arms outwards to maintain my balance.

The room around me felt like it was spinning. I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on Chad, but my vision blurred beyond my control. My skin felt like it was heating up from the inside, stretching in every direction. I coughed as I struggled to catch my breath. Maybe letting this transformation occur on its own without my interaction was a mistake. I wasn’t able to pad the changes with serotonin or any kind of positive feeling. My body and DNA were changing, and I was helplessly along for the ride.

“Raul,” Chad said. “You’re definitely growing – getting taller, and buffer.”

Well that was a good sign at least. My fears of becoming a tiny, short Latino twink were eradicated from my mind. I guess the people online preferred me to look like a stud.

“God,” I said, holding my head. “I’m just warning you, Chad, that this transformation is not going to be as smooth as the ones I’ve done for you. It feels like I’m on the world’s fastest and bumpiest rollercoaster.”

I tried to see if Chad’s facial expression changed at all, but the attempt was futile. I could barely pay attention to what was going on with myself. Chad was right: I was getting bigger. I could feel myself inching further away from the ground and my weight increasing slowly.

But then a new sensation began. One I genuinely couldn’t put my finger on. I had definitely felt this before in the past, but it must have been a very long time since then because I couldn’t tell what was happening to my body.

“Chad?” I asked. “What’s happening now?”

“I’m…” Chad began. “I honestly can’t really tell. You’re not growing any more. But… something definitely is still changing.”

I closed my eyes, the dizziness finally getting the best of me. I fought to pinpoint words that would describe how I was feeling.

Shrinking? Tightening? Energized?

Nothing made any sense. I wasn’t losing muscle mass, nor fat content. My muscles weren’t getting any more toned. I was at a loss. But before I could continue to think, everything stopped. The sensation was gone and I no longer felt like the room was rotating. My body had finished changing.

“Oh shit,” Chad said.

“What is it?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“Well, your body’s done,” Chad said, with awe.

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat a bit. “I can tell.” I coughed. It felt like something was lodged in my throat. “But what are you cussing about?”

“I think I’ll just let you take a look for yourself, baby boy,” Chad said, slightly smirking and taking a seat on the couch.

“What?” I said, furrowing my eyebrows. I coughed again. Why did Chad call me that? He had never said anything like that before, especially considering we were the same… unless… No…

I hurriedly made my way to the mirror, my eyes widening. Chad chuckled as I finally got a look at myself.

“Fucking shit,” I said, my eyes widening. “I’m a fucking kid.”

I ran my hands over my body, tight with muscle, definitely more toned and built than my ideal body. But, the baby face I now possessed offset all that. I couldn’t be more than 18 years old now. Six years, vanished into thin air. And no amount of increased muscle or height would make me look anything other than a freshly graduated senior from high school.

The sensation I experienced finally made sense - the feeling of loss, but simultaneous energy. I was getting younger. I hadn’t regressed myself since I first received my magic specialization, back when I aged myself down into an elementary school kid, aged myself up into a middle-aged man, and back to my normal age.

“I’m a kid,” I repeated, still surprised I let this happen to me.

“Raul,” Chad said.

I turned around to face my now much older boyfriend, and leaned against the couch. I opened my mouth to speak, but was immediately blinded by a flash of light.

“Oh my god,” Chad said, laughing. “This is perfect.”

“Chad, what the fuck?” I said, finally realizing the higher timbre of my voice. “Did you really have to take my picture already? I’m barely processing that I agreed to let you all turn me into a boy again.”

“Aww, come on, Raul,” Chad said, putting his phone away. “You’re not a boy, you’re still a man. Just, a much younger man! And at least we’re the same height now!” He smiled, his eyes twinkling as if he could barely contain his laughter.

“Well, you better chill out and get ready for your transformation any second now,” I said, my tone dripping with annoyance. “I would get in the middle of the room if I were you.”

Just as Chad stood up, he doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Holy shit, Raul,” Chad said, gasping. “I didn’t think this would feel like this.”

“Babe, don’t move,” I said, letting my annoyance subside for a moment. “Only stand up when you feel like capable. You’re going to feel extremely warm and dizzy.”

I watched Chad, trying to level out my concern and let the transformation take place on its own. He was already expanding, both in girth and height. The abs underneath his clenched arms began to firm, becoming more prominent than before. His legs and torso stretched, increasing his height several inches. He appeared to be gaining a little weight too, fat wise, but that was difficult to notice because of the extra muscle tone. It balanced out a good amount. It would likely only ever become noticeable if Chad ever got bloated or skipped the gym for a couple days. He was becoming an even more built man.

“Am I getting bigger, Raul?” Chad asked, starting to straighten his posture.

“Yeah, you’re bulking up a bit,” I said, watching my man surpass 6 feet tall. “We have a bit of a height difference again.”

“Aw,” Chad said, sighing. “I was kind of hoping we’d be the same height at least.” He clenched his eyes tightly. “Shit, Raul, something else is happening. I don’t think I’m growing anymore.”

I surveyed Chad head to toe. I couldn’t sense any significant change. He definitely had stopped growing. But then I noticed his beard and body hair begin to retreat into his skin, leaving him smoother than I had ever seen him.

“I think you’re getting—”

“Wait,” Chad said. “I think it’s done. I don’t feel anything anymore.”

Chad hadn’t regressed much. I was thankful, but also mildly annoyed. He looked to be about 22, still four years my senior. If we were normal people, he’d just have finished his undergraduate studies, and I would barely be starting mine.

“Yeah,” I said. “I think you’re done.”

Chad opened his eyes, rubbing them in the process.

“Oh damn,” Chad said, flexing his arms. “I’m even bigger than before.” He looked over at me, smiling. “Can we go into the bedroom? I’d rather take a look at myself in there.”

I nodded and followed Chad into our bedroom. He really was big. I knew he likely only had 20 or so pounds on me, probably closer to 30, but it made me feel unrealistically small in comparison. I knew I was ripped, but our age gap made me feel a bit inferior.

“Whew,” Chad said, whistling at his reflection. “This is way more ripped than I ever wanted to be, but I’ll take it for now. I look hot as fuck.” Chad whipped out his phone, snapping a quick picture in the process. He looked up and removed his hat and began to analyze even further.

“I’m kind of bummed about the body hair, but it looks like I can still grow a beard if I let it happen. I think I’m a little younger though.”

“Yeah,” I said, standing next to Chad, our size difference becoming even more apparent. “Just a couple years though, I think. I’ll check when I check the laptop for the actual votes.

Grabbing my laptop from the charger, I sat on our bed and quickly logged into Tumblr. I felt the weight of the bed shift underneath me as Chad sat besides me.

“You’re seriously so cute, Raul,” Chad said, kissing my neck.

“Chad,” I said, attempting to keep my voice level. “I appreciate the compliment, but, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not too thrilled about being reduced to a teenager again.”

“Okay, okay, Raul,” Chad said, rubbing my leg. He knew better not to continue to tease me when I wasn’t in the mood.

“Well,” I said, sighing. “I was right. According to these votes and how I set the algorithm, I’d say I’m 18 again, 5 foot 10 inches, and 185 pounds. Some people wanted me to be older, and some even wanted me to chunk up a bit, but those votes were all negated by the overwhelming decision to make me younger and grow my muscles.”

I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. I was annoyed that I was regressed into a twunk, but I wouldn’t have been too happy to be a chubby 18 year old.

“And what about me?” Chad asked.

“You…” I began, clicking over to Chad’s poll. “… I’d say you’re 22 years old, 6 foot 2 inches and 205 pounds. You had nearly just as many votes, but the difference between age regression and progression was much tighter. Hence why you barely regressed.” I looked over at Chad and couldn’t help but chuckle to myself at his expression trying to read all the votes. Even underneath all the extra weight and height, he was still the same guy I fell in love with.

“You gained a little bit of fat,” I continued. “But honestly, you’re so built you can hardly tell. I’m sure you just have to flex your stomach a little harder if you want every ridge to show, and maybe eating a big meal would make your abs a little less noticeable. But, I wouldn’t trip over it. A minority of people wanted you to lose some muscle mass, but everyone seems to love your muscles so they voted for an overwhelming amount of muscle growth.”

I closed the laptop, and smiled softly at my boyfriend. This was definitely an experience. And it had barely begun. Sure, the transformations were finished. But we still had to live in these bodies for the next week. I could only imagine the encounters we’d have from strangers and hearing how differently we would be treated now that we looked totally different. Sure, reality was warped that this was how we always looked, but I’m sure we’d still get a lot of head turns as an even more obvious muscled-gay couple, especially with the subtle age difference.

“I know you’re mad you lost a few years,” Chad said, still rubbing my leg.

“Six years,” I said, correcting him.

“Yeah, six years,” Chad said. “I’m sorry. I really am! I would’ve thought they’d want you to be a muscle daddy or something, but I guess they were thinking more on the twinky side.”

“It’s fine,” I said, shrugging. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I thought the same thing. But Chad didn’t need to know that. “It’s just for a week. I’ll survive.”

“Exactly!” Chad said, smiling. “That’s the spirit. Thank you for even agreeing to do this. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun with these new bodies… we’ll get to explore in different ways, if you catch my drift.” Chad slid his hand higher up on my leg. “I’ve never been with a younger guy before.”

“And I’ve never been with an older man before,” I said, chuckling, still getting used to hearing my lighter voice. “So I guess this is a first for both of us.”

“Plus,” Chad continued. “I’m sure the people online will be happy with what they created. It’s a win-win for everyone.”

I nodded. This definitely was a successful start to this experiment. Sure, I wasn’t happy to not even be old enough to buy alcohol or drink alcohol anymore, but I guess things could have turned out worse.

“Now,” Chad said, sliding his hand into my briefs. “Let’s see if my baby boy feels a little more submissive in this body. Now that you’re… smaller than me, body wise, and age wise.”

I felt my breath hitch as Chad’s hand skirted dangerously close to my groin. Where was this personality shift coming from? Chad? Being dominant? Me… kind of enjoying it?

Shit. It had to be the reality shifting and me actually allowing the transformation to take place on its own. I didn’t think personality changes would be possible if I wasn’t directly involved in the initiation but it seemed like…

“Oh fuck, Chad,” I said, moaning as Chad licked the inside of my leg. I arched my back as he continued to tease me; in the same ways I had grown accustomed to teasing Chad. Except now, I was on the receiving end of things. And I loved it.

“This is going to be a fun week, Raul,” Chad said, pulling down my briefs.

–

Final transformation stats:

Raul: Age: 18 | Height: 5 foot 10 inches | Weight: 185

Chad: Age: 22 | Height: 6 foot 2 inches | Weight: 205

What do you guys think about Chad’s and I’s transformations? Shoot me a message or let’s chat a bit. Until next time!

CAMO CATFISH

So, this is me now...Private Calvin Mantly, and it looks like this is me from now on. It's been hard getting used to the glasses and the skinny body that refuses to pack on muscle no matter how hard I work out or how much I eat. I will say that I've been enjoying my new cock. It's much larger than my previous one...an unexpected surprise and who knew Calvin here was a power top. I've railed so many beefy muscle bottoms in the last few months. I might be smaller in frame, but they all know who their daddy is. It's been kind of fun, honestly, but when I met "Cal" online and agreed to swap lives so I could get out of the service years earlier, I never expected to wake up and see this in the mirror.

"Cal" told me the truth. He did say he was a gay, large-cocked top. I just assumed the rest after he sent me a cock pic. I never imagined a dick like that could be attached to such a nerdy guy. But, waking up and seeing my new reflection was a shock. I went from massive, tanned jock who could have anybody he wanted to Calvin Mantly. Granted, I was a hungry power bottom before and had always dreamed about being a power top. So, I got what I wanted and it's my fault assuming "Cal" was more like me.

I'm on my way to base camp now, and I just got a text from my old body.

We're going to be stationed in the same area next month before I get to leave for home, and Jeff wants to hook up. He always likes to send me pics to remind me of how hot I was, how hot he is.

I get it. I remember what it felt like to be that guy. I could have anything I wanted, but what he doesn't realize is that I'm getting whatever I want now, and I know how much he wants to be drilled by this massive nerdy dick I'm dragging around.

Yeah, I'm going to drill him hard. I'm going to tear that ass up and make him beg to suck me off. I'm going to make him my bitch for the last month I'm here. After that, I'm going to go home and join Calvin's dad's law firm. I'm going to pound all the little law clerks all the way to the top until I'm running the place in expensive suits and cars. Who knows, maybe I can build this body up and have the proper build for the power top I am.

Yeah, I was catfished, but Calvin Mantly is a whole new man.

The Blue Pants - Poser Transfer

Jeff pulled his car in the driveway. His 7′ frame was still pumped from the intense workout he just had. He entered the house to find a package on the kitchen counter. His housemaid must have accepted it. Though the packet had no return adress, it was clearly adressed at him. 

“What the fuck? I didn’t order anything!”, Jeff boomed, his powerful bass echoing through the house. Deciding to let his curiosity win, Jeff opened the package.

It turned out that it contained lots of styrofoam and interesstingly a pair of bright blue posers. “What is this?”, Jeff wondered, tousling his curly blond hair.

‘Maybe it is a fan present’, Jeff thought to himself. He made quite an impact at his last bodybuilding contest. ‘Hehe, no surprise I took the trophy home.’

“I should try them on, maybe I can wear them at my next show.”

Without hesitation he stripped in the middle of the kitchen and tried the posers on. ‘They emphasize my horsecock and bull nuts pretty well’, Jeff thought, checking himself out in the hallway mirror.

Then he realized, that the bulge seemed to shrink. “What the fuck is that.”, in horror he noticed that his voice wasn’t the usual rolling thunder, but rather the voice of a total pipsqueak.

Jeff tried to pull the posers off but he just couldn’t. As much as he tried, he just couldn’t move them. That’s when he saw his muscles shrinking and the hallway grow. He could not even scream, being far too shocked to do so. 

Just 30 seconds after horsehung, 7′, 300 pound, 35 year old pro bodybuilder Jeff had put on the blue posers in his kitchen the briefs disappeared from his body leaving 5′5″, 90lbs, 19 year old twink Jeff and his hamster dick behind in the hallway.

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Drew’s day had been horrible. The members of his college’s football team had picked on him again. Not that this was a new thing to mention. He had been their playball since he started his studies and now being an employee of the physics departement didn’t change a thing. After all he always was on the skinny side. And him standing at the size of 5′7″ wasn’t a help. 

Admittedly he did have sex. He was regularly clubbing and most of the time ended up bottoming for someone bigger, which was pretty much everybody.

Entering his apartement Drew found a package on ground. He unpacked it, wondering who had send it to him. He had neither parents nor friends and he didn’t remember ordering anything. Inside the box was a pair of blue posers.

“I bet the footballer players send me this”, Drew said to himself, “They want to mock me again.” Enraged Drew was about to throw the posers into the trash can. But then he felt the urge to put them on. He didn’t know why, but he just needed to wear them. 

Removing his clothes he went to the bedroom and watched himself in the mirror. In addition to his small stature and general skinniness., his dick was not more than a shrunken peanut. Pulling up the posers he felt just at ease, as if everything was were it was supposed to be. Watching himself in the mirrorr he just had to laugh. It was just to comical, watching his skeleton figure wear the oversized poseres with the far too big pouch. 

That’s when he noticed, that the pouch wasn’t big, It was tight, and getting tighter. Far too distracted by the sensation of his stuffed crotch, Drew didn’t notice even notice, that he was getting taller, growing froma mere 5′7″ to a towering 7′2″. 

“Fuck!”, the for now giant beanpole shouted. But his voice wasn’t squeaky anymore. It was more like a foghorn. “What the hell!” Drew gripped his throat, surprised by his now deeper voice. That’s when Drew noticed, that the hands gripping his throat were getting bigger. “What’s happening?” As he held his plate sized hands in front of him, he looked down and saw his feet were growing too. His former size 7 shoes wouldn’t fit him anymore, size 21 would be more adequate now. 

He looked at himself in the mirror and witnessed his whole body expanding and getting heavy with muscle. It looked like he was getting pumped full of air. But the flesh wasn’t soft, it was hard as steel. He flexed them, perplexed by the feeling of his big muuscles. “Fuck yeah!”, he bellowed. The only thing that didn’t fit his new image now was his face. It was like a child’s compared to his new masculine body.

But that was about to change too. Drew suddenly felt his face twitch and convulse, watching it change in the mirror. The result was an uber-masculine face, that still had the charm of a pretty boy’s. The last thing to change was his hair. His unruly brown hair grew into a sexy undercut with  some streaks falling in his face. Then his jaw began to itch and a manly brown beard began to grow. That’s when his mind began to change too. His knowledge of major physics changing into knowledge of nutrition, dieting and workout routines.

So about 5 minutes after 5′7″, 90lbs physics assistant Drew had put on the posers, horsehung, 7′2″, 315lbs fitness model and personal trainer Drew went out, searching for an ass to fuck.

Wizard Tales - A Different Kind of Convention

My name is Ron and I am a wizard. I have been alive for several centuries. I have seen empires rise and fall, people making terrible mistakes and experiencing the highest of joys. But most of all, I have had my fair share of fun with mankind. You see, my special kind of magic allows me to alter people’s bodies, minds, all kinds of places and of course reality to avoid suspicion.

———————————————————————————————————-

I was out to have fun again and which place would be more fit for a reality warping wizard and muscle growth enthusiast than a comic convention. I saw endless possibilities for mischief, using quite a lot of them. I blew a meager He-Man cosplayer up with brawn and emptied his mind, leaving him nothing more than a breathing block of muscle. To upgrade his costume further he transformed the guy’s dog, who was dressed up as Cringer into a real tiger. The next ‘victim’ was a guy in a baggy Captain America costume. I expanded his muscles until the costume was straining against his new bodyuilder physique.

I decided to take the fun to a new level and sat down. The spell I wanted to use consumed a tremendous amount of magic energy, so I had to gather some more first. 

An hour later I had gathered all the power I needed and cast the spell, transforming this comic expo into a bodybuilding convention.

———————————————————————————————————-

I watched the nerds around me blow up into musclebound hunks of various shapes and sizes, the themes of the booths shifting from comics and nerdy movies to nutrition and working out. The costumes most of the visitors wore shifted into revealing tank tops and spandex shorts, though I spotted a lot of shirtless hunks or studs who were only wearing a speedo or poser.

That’s when I saw a pair of nerds, eyeing the muscular bodies around them with awe. They were obviously turned on by display of sheer manliness and the smell of testosterone, that filled the air.

‘Now that’s interesting, so I get to play a little more.’, I thought an decided to follow them. They stopped in front of the booth, which belonged to the National Physique Commitee, which was about to announce the best person who had won the most bodybuilding contests this year and that’s how I got an idea.

“Ned Plinburg, please come to the stage.”, the announcer declared and a spotlight aimed at one of the nerds. The crowd cleared a path towards the stage and hesitantly the skinny boy walked towards the platform. As I watched him entering it, I made his clothes disappear, leaving him in nothing more than a tight black speedo. It was obvious for everybody that the covered dick wasn’t so big, since only a small bulge was visible at the front pouch. Almost everyone was laughing at him now, since his short, twiggy body was on full display. 

Of course I couldn’t leave him this way, so I began with increasing his height well past 6′. He ended up at a towering size of 6′10. He looked even more comical now, but I gave him a body more fitting the convention. His muscles grew and grew until it had definitely pro bodybuilding qualities. Additionally I altered reality so everyone now remembered him winning the Mr. Olympia contest three years in a row. Next I made his glasses disappear and transformed his face and hair in the process. He ended up with a model like visage and a nice brown buzz cut. As a special a trait I added little studs to both of his ears.

So now a pale, shy bodybuilder stood on the stage. A man came onto the stage, holding a giant golden trophy and handed it to Ned. I decided to alter his name as well making him Ned Muscleburg. “I am very proud to give this trophy to the man, who has won it the last three years as well: Ned Muscleburg!”, he announced. As he took the trophy a tan started to spread from it until his whole body was dyed in a caramel brown colour.

“Um, thank you…”, he said softly. Though I had deepened his voice signifcantly, he was still very shy. That had to change and so I made a few corrections on his mind. “I would like to thank my husband and long time supporter, Dean. Come to the stage, honey.”, Ned boomed and pointed at his former friend, who was still a nerd.

When Dean had reached the platform I had another idea. With a devilish grin I lengthened and fattened the dick in his jeans, as well as growing his balls. Though he was still as skinny as a girl he was now as hung as a bull. “Without him regularly pleasuring my hungry muscle ass I could have never won this many contests.”, the giant, musclebound bottom exclaimed and kissed his horsehung twig of a husband.

I want to thank @alphachanges for the ideas, though it had not exactly turned out how he thought and thanks to @amalianetwork for his help with the story.

Though I have to admit that the main idea is from @absqrst‘s stereotypes storylines

The 1000th Customer

Cho had always been a skinny child. Of course he was, he was asian after all. He was predestined to always be the one in a group who was the shortest and skinniest. And the word short was not only meant heightwise, he was as hung as a 3-year old child. But he had stopped complaining years ago. He had settled to being a bottom for the bigger guys, meaning almost everybody. Cho had given up his dream of being the top in a relationship long ago. He had tried relationships with guys and gals alike, but he always ended being either the bottom or being left.

Still he had decided to go clubbing tonight. After an intense night of dancing, flirting and drinking, he went home with a black behemoth named James. The 7′ giant spent all night thrusting his black jackhammer of a cock into Cho’s big asian ass. After James had emptied his bullnuts into Cho’s tight hole for the 5th time the tiny asian passed out from the pure orgasmic bliss.

The next morning Cho woke with his raw ass still in the air, the black stallion lying asleep next to him. He gathered all his clothes that were scattered throughout the room and made his leave. Though after he had closed the door behind him, Cho noticed that he had left his glasses on James’ dresser. “Damn!”, Cho, exclaimed with his high pitched voice. He didn’t really need to wear them all the time, but still it was infuriating that he had forgotten them.

His work as a programmer was a struggle without his glasses. Since he was farsighted he couldn’t really see what he was typing. He decided to pack up earlier this day and pay his optician a visit.

As he approached the shop at main street, he noticed a sign: “Currently on vacation. Will probably be back on 17th” “The 17th? That’s still one week from now!”, Cho squeaked angrily. He decided to head home using a small alley as a shortcut. That’s when he noticed a shop on the left of the alley. The store window displayeda few pairs of glasses and since he needed one desperately he decided to enter the store.

He was greeted by a whistle and several air balloons. “Congratulations! You are our 1000th customer!”, a croaky voiced old man exclaimed, revealing a banner who read exactly the same thing. “Your price is a free pair of glasses”, the old man added in a far more normal tone. “Let me have a look at you.”, he asked Cho, eyeing from head to toe, “Ah, yes you are farsighted and need 2,0 dpt on both eyes. I think you’ll like this model. But please don’t try it on here, I unfortunately don’t have any mirrors.”, he said handing Cho a fitting pair of glasses.

A little startled Cho left the shop again. He decided to have a look at the glasses through the reflection on the store window. “Here goes nothing”, Cho said with his high pitched voice and pu the glasses on.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Looking awesome.”, Cho commented, eyeing the new glasses on his ngular face. As he watched himself in the reflection he couldn’t help but letting his calloused plate sized hands over his square jaw, feeling the stubble under his fingers. “Shit, I’ve only shaved an hour ago. By the way were was I going?”, he asked himself. ‘Oh yeah, I was on my way to meet James.’, he remembered. The little black twink had called him to arrange a ‘meeting’, an invitation on a coffee that would definitely end up with sex again. He could just tell him so, but little James was just to shy. He had just never had sex with an asian before. All asians were just plan sex beasts and most of them were cool with fucking a twink’s ass.

Of course they were, asian bullnuts and monstercocks needed to be constantly pumped dry, no matter the method. Cho was no exception. Like many other asians Cho hadn’t finished high school and spend his entire freetime partying, working out and most of all fucking.

As he reached the small cafe James had chosen, he already saw theblack twink waiting for him. “Hello Cho. I have already ordered you a coffee”, James greeted him with his soft, effeminate voice, shoving a cup of iced coffe across the table.  “Yeah thank you. So do you want to fuck now? I still gotta make two movies today.” came the straightforward reply of Cho, who was checking out his phone. He already had several messages from several guys and girl, all more than willing to become an orifice for Cho’s cock. James had been totally entranced by the twitching of Cho’s muscles and the pumping of his veins. “Yeah sure.”, James said, standing up and making his way towards the hotel across the street.

Thirty minutes later James found himself on all fours as Cho jackhammered his cock up his ass. He could only moan as the 7′3″ 320lbs asian bull was gripping James’ hips tightly as he shot his first load up the blayck boy’s hole. While James had already shot numerous loads it was the first for Cho. “Don’t you dare passing out yet, I still have a few ones left.”, he whispered into the almost unconcious twink’s ear.

———————————————————————————————————-

Another hour later Cho left the room and made his way to the movie set. He was scheduled to make two porns today. “Ben Whore”, was featuring him fucking his way through numerous girls in an ancient setting. He didn’t know the name of the second movie, but it was centered around him dominating numerous twinks and amateur bodybuilders and fuck their asses until they were raw.

He got scheduled for porn movies on a regular basis. After all ‘Cho, the Japanese Bull’ was the most famous and best paid porn star in the world.

This time I’m trying myself at a more graphic description of lovemaking.

Stereotyping

Tucker and John were an odd couple. Not only were they mixed raced, with Tucker being an Afro-American and John’s grandparents having come from China in the late 1960′s. But that wasn’t the most extraordinary thing about their relationship. They weren’t the stereotypical black and asian guys. While Tucker was had graduated from college as the best of his year and even had a doctor, working for a big international medical company, John had dropped out of high school, which not even his status as the school’s star quarterback could prevent, since that couldn’t compensate for all the Fs he had. So while Tucker worked in a big laboratory and had just developed a new medicament against the flu, John worked as a personal trainer in one of the local gyms and sided as a fitness model.

The couple didn’t even fulfill their respective stereotypes in the bedroom. While Tucker was a timid little bottom, who was hung like a gerbil, John was an agressive top, who knew how to use the coke bottle thick shank of sexmeat, that hung between his legs. He would continuously tease Tucker’s keyhole tight asshole with his fist sized cockhead, which alone was enough to make the little guy spurt, before pushing in in one smoooth motion, that would then become a constant jackhammering, that would change his blissful moans into orgasmic screams. And while Tucker had already shot numerous loads, it would take the horny Chinese another 30 minutes to dump his in comparison enormous load up the black doctor’s big booty.

But then one day, a mysterious package arrived. Tucker found it in the hallway, when he came home form work, having packed up his things early, to surprise his husband, only to find their flat as messy as he had left it, even though he had asked John to tidy it up while he was gone. Tucker would have done it, but he ws already late, after the Asian hulk had had another go at his ass this morning. “He probably isn’t even up yet.”, Tucker thought checking his watch. It was already past 2 pm but he forgave his husband, after all it was the big guy’s free day.

Forgetting the package for the moment, Tucker silently entered their shared bedroom, finding John still asleep, the bed sheets stuck to the impressive tent his bull cock was making. Quietly, the little black guy approached his sleeping husband, slipping his under the sheets and going down on the impressive tool, the sleeping John stirring slightly as he did so. Slowly but steadily the Asian behemoth awoke, as his twinky husband blew him, even able to deepthroat the cock until he, now fully awake, forced the entire length down his lover’s throat and finally shot a humonguous load.

“Hey baby, finally awake?”, Tucker asked. “Yeah.”, came the reply from his husband, his voice so deep, that it made Tucker’s little cock hard again. A short time later, John had gotten dressed, meaninng he now wore underwear, leaving his perfect torso on display, and set at the kitchen table, downing a coffee and reading the newspaper. Then Tucker came in with the package he had previously ignored. “We’ve got a package, baby. It’s addressed to both of us.”, he said, showing the brown box he held in his small hands.

When the two of them opened the myterious carton they found a small vase and a piece of paper in it, that read: “To set things straight in your relationship.” Curiously Tucker inspected the vase. The little piece of pottery was painted with what looked like a mix of Asian and African symbols. “That thing looks pretty strange.”, Tucker murmured to himself. “Show it to me.”, John asked him and Tucker handed him the vase. And in the exact moment, when both them touched the mysterious piece of pottery, a bronze light erupted from it, knocking the couple out.

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John laid on the bed, the sheets still sticky from cum. But of course it was less his cum than rather the one of Tucker, the big black bull. He had spent all night jackhammering his enormous black dick up John’s tight Asian ass and from the looks of it, he hadn’t stoppped, when John had already passed out rom both exhaustion and bliss. It looked like Tucker had shot over a gallon of cum all over the place. John’s little cock already got hard, just thinking about his husband. 

Despite having two doctor titles and having made a lot of money, when he had worked for that one chemical company, John had quit his job two years ago, when he had met Tucker. Before that, the Asian twink had been one of then leading experts in mathematics and chemics in the whole world. But then he had met the black behemoth called Tucker. The guy was just perfect, Incredibly big muscles under that perfect black skin and the most stereotypical black horse cock to ever be created. John had to quit his job, so he would be available for Tucker to fuck at all time, while the black titan did his brutal workouts. 

Speaking of the devil, a massive shadow appeared in the doorway. Tucker ha dto turn a little sideways to enter the room, his massive shoulders far to broad to pass through the doorway normally. As he approached the bed and the delicate figure lying in it. Undoing his belt, Tucker asked in deep bass voice: “Hey ,baby, ready for round 6?”

All Of Them

“Scientists all around the world still haven’t found a reason why every black male on the planet is suddenly experiencing a drastic decrease in muscle and penis size. It is unknown if this has something to do with the simultaneous increase of overall size, that male persons with Asian inheritance all over the world have been experiencing. Despite having not yet found a cause for this change scientists have started calling this phenomenon ‘The Great Reversal’. My name is Jeonyin Harper and this is CNN News.”, finished the now hulking anchorman, his suit painfully tight against his giant frame.

Sighing I turned the TV off, the report having only confirmed what I already guessed. After a last few tugs I packed my dick back into my underwear, pleased with the obvious bulge it made. I walked upstairs and entered the bathroom, passing the pictures of my family in the hallway. While my mother was Asian, meaning her entire side of the family now had hulking males, while his father was a white businessman, owning his own successful company, explaining their huge mansion.

Entering the bathroom I stood in front of the mirror, and decided to snap a few selfies, fixing how the cap, which had set all of this in motion on my head. “Yeah, Instagram is gonna love this.”, I said and posted it right away. In the last days my Instagram had undergone a dramatic change. No more nerdy anime pics ans pseudo-poetic stuff, but instead it was now filled with pics of my incredibly built body and the sizable bulge in my underpants.

Originally I had wanted to buy a cap to cover up my bad greasy hair and look a little cooler, but that was a wasted hope. Standing almost a head lower than everyone else and being quite chubby made me look just as cool as my shoulder long unruly straight black hair. I went to the mall with my three best friends Chad, Bob and DeShawn. DeShawn was a basketball player, who was at least half a foot taller than the rest of us and really built. People would always wonder why he hung out with us, but before puberty he had been a nerd like us and we still were friends. Bob was always pretty average. Like me he came from a wealthy family, but otherwise he didn’t really stand out with his blond locks and average height. And then there was Chad. He was by far my best friend, maybe because he was Asian like me or because we grew up together. Though he wasn’t exactly handsome either, his body frail and short, combined with a too big nose made him look weird. Oh, and he is gay, having come out last year, though he hadn’t put a move on any of us. 

So we walked through the mall and suddenly Bob noticed a shop. It was very narrow and everybody was passing by without giving it a second look, but we walked right into it. There was no sign indicating the name, but it was just what we were looking for. Clothes covered every free inch of the shop. I walked straight towards the caps and took one out. You may have guessed, but it was that plain black I wear in the pictures. I asked the shop’s owner how much it would cost and a little bit of haggling later I handed him 5 dollars. before he handed it over again he looked me in the eye and whispered: “It may change all of you.” I gave him a quizzical look and turned to leave, putting on the cap on my way. When it hit my head the shop owner made a strange gesture and a blinding light engulfed me. 

Suddenly I felt heavier and taller and a look over to my friends surprised me even more. The formerly towering DeShawn had suddenly dropped over a foo in height and lost all his hard earned muscle, whereas Chad had gotten everything DeShawn had lost. He was now a breathing block of muscle, towering over the newly black twink. Bob was totally freaked out by the change and looked totally helpless, while the transformed ones themselves were totally panicked. Than they turned at me. “Man you are huge. Even bigger than me.”, Chad said with admiration and than I noticed my body.  Whereas Chad or the Pre-Change-DeShawn had been big, I was enormous. Another 4″ taller than Chad and far wider. 

So after a some back and forth everyone accepted the changes and it turned out DeShawn was gay. Of course Chad took the opportunity and made him his boyfriend. I myself went over to the head cheerleaders house and spent the remaining afternoon fucking her brains out. Though it only started with her. The rest of the cheerleaders and some of the black football and basketball players didn’t escape my by now legendary horse dick either. I might have to go to some sorority houses with some of the Asian guys form the chess team to get some new fucks. The girls really like to lick the hard deeply cut sixpack I call my own and the rockhard full round pecs above it. Or hang from the strong humongous biceps I have, losing themselves in my deep darkbrown almond eyes and tracing my lantern jaw with their manicured nails, feeling the dense stubble underneath.

But the girls really like one thing the most: Squeezing my muscular glutes while they take every inch of my 12″ cock down their throats. I can only conclude the cap really made me popular, especially with the girls, seeing how it made me go from virgin to sex beast in a matter of hours.

Follado por mi mismo

Mi nombre es Brandon siempre fui el chico que toda mujer y hasta hombres se derriten por él, lo tengo todo practicamente, buen físico y tengo buenas calificaciones. Pero todo eso cambió un día.

Me encontraba en mi entrenamiento de fútbol diario de mi escuela, cuando ya acabó me fui a cambiar a los camarines. Fue extraño ya que allí se encontraba Alan, un chico que se habia revelado gay hace unos años y todos mis amigos y otros chicos lo molestan por ello. Este se me acercó algo nervioso y dijo:

"E-Eh, Brandom quiero decirte algo que siento desde hace mucho tiempo. La verdad es que me gustas demasiado, probablemente no sientas no mismo que yo pero queria dacar este peso fuera de mí." Éste se me acerca y me besa, quedé en shock y al reaccionar lo empujo contra los casilleros del camarin. "¡Estas loco! Eres repugnante." Dije mientras escupia en el suelo. "Yo nunca estaría con alguien como tú, marica. Eres un flacucho enano, y mirame mi cuerpo está esculpido por los mismísimos dioses y mira mi hermoso rostro." Al decir eso, el salio corriendo mientras lagrimas salían tras sus ojos.

Cuando llegó el dia siguiente me sentía diferente, extraño. Como si mi cuerpo se hubiera desinflado, ya no tenía mis grandes musculos, mi pene ya no era tan grande antes me medía alrededor de unos 20 cm, ahora no debe medir mas de 8 cm. Me toco el trasero y se siente con más grosor. Me acerco al espejo que se encontraba a una esquina en mi habitación, al verme me quede impactado, lo que veía no era a mí y mi hermoso cuerpo, ¡En el se reflejaba Alan, el chico gay de mi escuela!

Me quedé unos minutos en mi cama pensando en que iba hacer, no puedo quedarme en el cuerpo de Alan. ¡Seré molestado por años porqué creerán que soy él! Volví a mirarme en el espejo, la verdad es que tiene un buen trasero para ser follado y su rostro es algo tierno, sus labios gruesos, ojos brillantes y piel suave, esto hizo que mi pene se erectara, algo extraño.

Luego un sonido raro me interrumpió alguien entro a mi habitación alguien muy familiar ¡Era yo! Estaba sin camisa y solo en boxers.

Se me acercó y me abrazo agarrandome el trasero.

"¿Ya estas disfrutando tu pequeño cuerpo?" Me dijo seductoramente. "¿Alan eres tú? ¡Devuelveme mi cuerpo ahora!" Dije furioso y temblando al ver a Alan en mi propio cuerpo. "Eso será imposible, ya que no quiero dejar este hermoso cuerpo." Luego de decir aquellas palabras él me empuja hacia la cama, colocándose encima mío y comienza a besarme el cuello, mientras nuestros penes en nuestros boxers chocan entre si, esto me causa demasiado placer no se porqué, ¡Yo soy hetero! O al menos lo era en mi cuerpo...

Él me comienza a bajar los boxers, intento resistirme pero él es demasiado fuerte. Al bajarlos saca su gran pene y lentamente comienza a meterlo en mi culo, en el culo de Alan. Me excite demasiado que inmediatamente eyacule mientras gemía, creo que ser cogido no es tan malo como creía.

"¡Ooooh mierda sí, sigue Alan!" dije mientras seguia gimiendo. "Dime Brandon." Dijo mientras me daba nalgadas en el culo. "¡Ooooh si, Brandon!", no sé qué es lo que estoy diciendo creo que mi mente se esta mezclando con la de él, y me estoy volviendo gay, ¡No es posible!. De pronto, él se corre dentro de mí, "¡Oooh si!" Dije gimiendo.

Luego de tener sexo, ambos nos dormimos mientras él me abrazaba, me sentía cómodo en sus grandes brazos. Que bien que Brandon allá aceptado ser mi novio, sin él no soy nada.

Fucked by myself

My name is Brandon I was always the guy that all women and even men melt for him, I have everything practically, good physique and I have good grades. But all that changed one day.

I was in my daily soccer training at my school, when it was over I went to change the dressing rooms. It was strange because there was Alan, a guy who had revealed himself gay a few years ago and all my friends and other guys bother him for it. He approached me nervously and said:

 "E-Eh, Brandon, I want to tell you something I've been feeling for a long time, the truth is that I like you too much, you probably don't feel the same as me but I wanted to give this weight away from me." He comes up to me and kisses me, I was shocked and when I react I push him against the lockers of the dressing rooms. "You're crazy! You're disgusting." I said while spitting on the ground. "I would never be with someone like you, sissy, you're a skinny dwarf, and look at me, my body is sculpted by the gods themselves and look at my beautiful face." When I saying that, he ran away while tears came out behind his eyes.

When it arrived the next day I felt different, strange. As if my body had deflated, I no longer had my big muscles, my dick wasn't so big before it measured me about 8", now it should not measure more than 3". I touch my ass and it feels thicker. I approached the mirror that was at a corner in my room, seeing me I was shocked, what I saw wasn't me and my beautiful body, it was reflected Alan, the gay boy at my school!

I stayed a few minutes in my bed thinking about what I was going to do, I can't stay in Alan's body. I will be bothered for years because they will believe that I am him! I looked at myself again in the mirror, the truth is that he has a nice butt to be fucked and his face is something cute, his thick lips, bright eyes and soft skin, this made my dick erect, something strange.

Then a strange sound interrupted me, someone came into my room, someone very familiar. It was me! He was shirtless and only in boxers.

He approached me and hugged me holding my ass.

 "Are you already enjoying your little body?" He told me seductively. "Alan, are you? Give me back my body now!" I said furiously and trembling to see Alan in my own body. "That will be impossible, since I don't want to leave this beautiful body." After saying those words he pushes me towards the bed, standing over me and begins to kiss my neck, while our dicks in our boxers collide with each other, this causes me too much pleasure I don't know why, I'm straight! Or at least it was in my body... 

 He starts to lower the boxers, I try to resist but he is too strong. When he gets them off, he takes out his big dick and slowly starts to put it in my ass, in Alan's ass. I got too excited to immediately ejaculate while moaning, I think being caught isn't as bad as I thought.

"Ooooh shit yeah, Alan's still!" I said while I kept moaning. "Tell me Brandon." He said while spanking my ass. "Ooooh yeah, Brandon!", I don't know what I'm saying, I think my mind is mixing with his, and I'm becoming gay, it's not possible! Suddenly, he discharge inside me, "Oooh yeah!" I said moaning.

After having sex, we both fell asleep while he hugged me, I felt comfortable in his big arms. Good that Brandon there accepted to be my boyfriend, without him I am nothing.

Hi! I’m a Latin American boy and I am not very good with English so I am sorry if there are mistakes in the story. If you want, you can send me messages about corrections, I would be delighted.