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The Hazening
(This is a tf story I wrote as a commission on FA. Figured I’d post it here for you guys to enjoy, too.)
———————————————————————–
“Look, man, I seriously stuck my neck out to even get you this chance at joining the frat in the first place. You’ve seen what other frats do for hazing. You should thank me!”
Chris looked dubiously at the jockstrap and tube socks. His rich black hair was cut back into a fade on the sides to expose the glasses that sat firmly on his nose. “Look, Jack, I know you want to be able to hang out more, but this—”
“Is easy compared to what I had to deal with,” Jack said seriously. His blond stubble and blocky face had only become more prominent and masculine over the last year since he joined the frat. “Nu Phi Lambda’s seriously cool, man. They accept anyone, so long as they pass the test. You wear it to the party, hang with some of the guys for a while, meet the pres, and there you go!”
“And the reason they’re being so easy on me is because…?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Because I asked them to. That, and I may have said this was the most embarrassing thing you’ll ever have to endure.”
“So, you lied for me?”
“You’re saying you won’t be uncomfortable wearing just that underneath your clothes?”
“… Point.”
Jack smirked. “See? I’ve still got those mad debate skills.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Sure, you do.”
“Oh, and one more thing. They’re gonna be checking to make sure you’re actually wearing it, so be ready for some bros to give you a wedgie.” He chuckled. “Well, to try, anyway.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s hazing, man. What’d you expect?”
“Something that isn’t so immature?”
Jack chuckled. “I’ll see you at the party, ‘little bro.’ Don’t be late,” he sang as he left the room.
Chris groaned as he looked at the two articles of clothing. “The things I do for friendship,” he muttered under his breath.
———————————————————–
Well, Jack hadn’t been wrong. The discomfort was definitely there. Every step Chris took brushed the fabric of his jeans against parts of his body that weren’t used to such exposure, and the straps of the strap would rub occasionally against his skin. He was confident he’d likely develop a rash by the end of the night. Or at the very least, chafe marks. He would have worn boxers over the gear to mitigate the situation, were it not for the warning Jack gave.
Chris had only experienced a wedgie once before, when he was swimming in an old childhood friend’s pool. The yelp he’d given when he was lifted bodily in the water had echoed through the neighborhood, and he still winced whenever he thought back on the old memory. The tube socks he wore now encompassed his feet in a thick cocoon that pressed slightly against the walls of his shoes and sent a strange tingling sensation up the soles of his feet with every step. It wasn’t like he was being tickled, but it was certainly distracting.
“Chris!” Jack grinned as he shouldered through the crowd of upperclassmen to reach his friend. “Glad you made it, bro!” The man had become the embodiment of the frat bro stereotype from the backwards snapback to the tight tank and shorts marked with the frat’s logo. Tanned and swollen arms nearly consumed the would-be-pledge in a bear hug that would break a lesser man. This was soon followed by a loud snap.
Chris stiffened like a board as his eyes widened and he gaped disbelievingly at his friend.
“Just checking.” Jack grinned. “Good on you for not bringing boxers.”
“Jack….”
“Oh, calm down, man. One night of immature revelry won’t kill you.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Come on. Pres is waiting.”
The party had yet to get fully underway, so it was easy to weave or shoulder through people without consequence. Tall thick border hedges provided all the privacy the event would need, if not noise protection. As for what antics might come that night as a result of said privacy…. Chris didn’t want to think about it. The inside of the frat house was more like a mansion than a house, with rich dark wood floors and a brighter reddish paneling for the walls. Jack guided him to the left, where a pair of doors opened into a broad study lined with ornate bookshelves, complete with the moveable ladder. It was the picture of a Victorian manor study. And there, behind the desk, stood the tallest, broadest, and most imposing man Chris had ever laid eyes on.
“Yo, Kyle! I brought him,” Jack announced. His face split into a broad grin. “Told you I’d get him here.”
Kyle was a burly man with naturally wavy brown hair and thick eyebrows. His arms were nearly twice the size of Jack’s, and his green eyes were highlighted with a golden outline. Darker hairs stood out on the backs of his hands and along his arms before slipping under the tight sleeves of his polo. When the behemoth leaned onto the desk, Chris had the impression of staring down a gorilla, rather than a man.
“So, this is the one you told me about, huh?” His voice was deep and gruff with just a hint of a growl that carried in the undertow.
A heavy smack to the back sent Chris catapulting onto the desk. He braced for all he was worth to avoid accidentally knocking heads with the man that presumably would be the one to decide whether he was worthy of joining the organization in the first place.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Kyle continued bluntly.
Jack folded his arms. “Neither did I when I pledged. Look at me now.”
Kyle didn’t bother looking at Jack. His focus was on the man who couldn’t hold a gaze for a few seconds before looking away. “You wearing your gear?”
“If you mean the jockstrap and socks, yes.” Chris’ cheeks felt like they were on fire as his voice hushed. “Are you guys seriously going to give me wedgies?”
Kyle rose to his full height and folded his vascular arms. “Part of the deal. You could say that strap is more for protection than it is a test. Do right by it and you’ll fit in, no problem.” He strode around the table and extended a hand. “It’s tradition for the leader to welcome guests, even if they don’t pass snuff.”
Chris’ whole hand was swallowed in the fist as Kyle shook with gentle controlled movements. The man probably could have broken his arm, if he’d been so inclined. A few second later, the familiar snap of spandex rang through the room. Chris yelped and jumped briefly. Kyle smiled. “Watch yourself tonight, pledge. Part of the fun is facing a challenge.”
Chris glared at the man. “And here I thought I was actually going to like you.”
Kyle huffed a chuckle. “You still might by the end of the night. Go on. Have fun. This party’s meant for more than just pranking. I want to see just how well you rush. Good luck.”
When the door clicked shut behind them, Jack was positively ecstatic. He thumped Chris excitedly on the back. “Dude! He totally likes you!”
When Chris was certain his eyes weren’t about to be knocked out of his skull from the sheer force of the blows, he spoke acerbically. “That’s not the impression I got.”
Jack was completely undaunted and pulled his friend against his side. “Trust me, bro. I know these things. You’re in. You’re totally in.” He whooped in delight. “I can’t wait for tonight!”
“Yes. I can hardly contain myself. Woohoo….”
Jack chuckled. “You’ll see soon enough, little bro. You’ll see.”
“Is this going to be your thing now?”
Jack smirked. “Maybe.”
Chris groaned. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to survive this.”
“Courage, my friend. Courage. The night is still young, and there are many vain and foolish delights to tempt and tantalize.” He grinned. “I’ll make a bro out of you yet.”
Chris barked a laugh. “You can try.”
Jack smirked. “Wait and see, bro. Wait and see.”
——————————————————————
The party went into full swing as soon as the sun began to set. Torches were lit, burgers were served, and the beer flowed like mead in a Viking feast hall. Drunken revelry filled the air with hoots, growls, and howls as various antics were performed and thrust on would-be-pledges. Keg stands, beer pong, the works.
And all the while, Chris was on guard, ever alert for groping hands and would-be-attackers. But these “bros” were more cunning than Chris had given credit for. When Jack had ceased to serve as a proper distraction, they found other means to “test” him. The card tables were notorious, especially when they got into a round of strip poker.
Somehow, he always found himself getting stripped. And then would come the familiar smack of the waistband. By the time he left those tables, his waist felt like it was burning. The straps had been pulled and snapped so much by now, he was shocked they hadn’t lost their stretch.
He stumbled toward the drink table. The tingling had intensified in his feet, and he was tired of all the antics. But he had promised Jack he’d stay, and he wasn’t about to break his word, even if the guys were being lunkheaded jerks.
“Rough night?” the keep asked as he filled another cup.
“You could say that.” Chris groaned and leaned against the makeshift counter where the drinks were mixed, then served in the punch bowl to the side or in individual orders for the older frat members.
“Sounds like you could use a pick-me-up.”
Chris sighed. “I just don’t really feel like I belong here, you know?”
“Do you want to belong?”
“I want to be with my friend. Does that count?”
The keep shrugged again. “It’s a start.” He passed a cup Chris’ way. “In my experience, if you want to feel like fitting in, and you’re having trouble, it might not hurt to get a little help in loosening up. And no, I’m not talking drugs. We don’t do those here. Ever. Anyone caught with those gets immediate disbarment.”
“And what do you recommend?” Chris sipped his drink and sighed. The flavor was surprisingly sweet, with a warmth that seemed to spread through his chest, then back into his throat again as the drink went down.
“A little liquid courage never hurt anyone.” He shrugged. “Or you could work off some of that aggression in the other places. There’s wrestling and arm wrestling, you know. Even a sumo mat and one of those stick pit things. You know, the game where you knock someone off while you straddle a beam? Try some of them out. Let loose. Live a little. And if you’re really that upset over something people are doing to you, why not pay them back? Fair’s fair, in my opinion.”
“I still don’t know.”
“You don’t have to know to do. Take a risk. Live a little. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I get in a fight.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
Chris drained his cup and took the second that was proffered. “Have you seen their size?”
“I have. Have you seen yours?” He shook his head. “You think too little of yourself. Think little and you’ll be little. So stop thinking and just be for a while.”
“Just be? That simple?”
“Simple’s usually the best.” The keep offered a third cup. “A few basic ingredients, and you’ve got a kickass drink. Why not let it be the same for a man? Isn’t that one of the sayings people use, the clothes make the man?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So, let your clothes do the talking for a while. It’s not like it’ll kill you to try something different for a night.”
The warmth had spread through Chris’ whole body by this point, and a hint of a smile pulled at his face, despite his attempts to quash it. “Just for a night, huh?”
“Just for a night. Just to try,” the keep offered again. “Who knows? You might actually like it.”
Chris chuckled. “Fat chance.”
“Fat is easily trimmed with exertion.” The keep smiled as he took the cup back. “Why don’t you go burn some of it off, until that chance comes along, hmm?”
Chris sighed. “I suppose I should try.” He rolled his eyes and adjusted his crotch as he rose back to his feet. “Thanks for the drinks.”
“Any time, stranger. Feel free to come back if you need. I’ve got plenty to choose from, and good advice to offer. It’ll put some hair on that chest of yours.”
Chris chuckled ruefully. “Can it put muscle on, too?”
The barkeep smiled knowingly. “That’s up to you and just how much you decide to follow those clothes of yours.”
“Sure, it is.” Chris’ cheeks flushed as he walked away from the bar. His legs tensed as he scratched his glutes. But he did feel a little better. “Maybe just … one game of sumo.”
——————————————————————
Chris leaned heavily into his steps as he finally emerged from the cocoon of padding that had been his badge of honor for the last ten rounds and replaced his shoes. His belly burned. His blood surged. And as for his rear, well … he was getting used to all the “attention.” If they didn’t snap his waistband, they smacked him, instead.
“Bro, that was awesome!” one such frat member raved. “You toppled Titan! You toppled the %&$*ing Titan!”
Chris smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”
“That’s my bro!” Jack hooted as he pointed from across the way and beat a meaty fist against his chest in salute.
“To the hero of the ring!”
A cup was shoved in Chris’ face, and he took it. “Uh, … thanks?”
“Go on, bro, drink up! You earned it!”
It … was hot in that costume. And he was feeling thirsty. He took a hesitant sip. It wasn’t the sweet flavor he’d had at the bar, but it wasn’t bad. There was a hint of orange in the brew that offset the bitter flavor from the hops. The flush deepened, and a goofy smile pulled at his lips. He hardly even felt the snap this time around.
He laughed, a curious hiccupping mixture between his usual higher register and a lower bass. A heavy thump on the back nearly sent him tottering. Then came the deathgrip on his waistband, followed by the largest snap to date.
And that wasn’t the only thing to snap.
Chris came to, thrashing in some much larger arms. The poor soul that had unleashed that rage was being raised to his feet. Instead of frustration, though, there were smiles.
“Calm down.”
Chris immediately went limp at the command. He knew that voice, and he knew those arms. Kyle had broken up the fight. Chris could already feel his sides throbbing.
“Get them some ice to dull the pain.”
The others scattered, and soon both men were nursing ice packs. Jack lumbered to the pair and frowned. “You all right, bro?”
“He’s fine. Just a little too eager, I think,” Kyle rumbled.
Chris’ head felt strangely muted as he looked over the frat president and his friend. It was like someone had worn out the spark plugs up there, and now he just … existed. He grunted as he nursed the ice pack. “M’fine, bro. Really.” Kyle said he was fine, so he was fine.
Jack grinned. “Did you just call me bro?”
One of the sparkplugs finally managed to fire properly. “Don’t get used to it.”
Kyle grunted. “If you want to fight next time, do it in the ring.” His thick brow furrowed like thunderclouds over his eyes. “And remember you’re rushing the frat. That means letting the rest of the guys have their fun.” He deliberately grabbed the waistband and snapped it. “Get used to it.” He snapped it again. “Let it happen.” Once more. “Embrace it.” He yanked especially hard, then leaned next to Chris’ ear after the last snap beat against the pledge’s skin. “You might just be rewarded.” He chortled, though it sounded more like a growl. “Hell, you might actually come to enjoy it.”
Each successive snap acted like a depth charge to Chris’ brain. His knuckles felt sore, probably from the blows that were exchanged in the fight. His hands ached, as did his feet. His head tingled as invisible fingers pricked and massaged at his scalp and deep in his conscious, scouring expertly for those few spark plugs that were still working. His mouth gaped as he stared into those eyes. The rough handling had forced him into a semi-stoop. “Uhh….”
“Got it?”
Another snap. The voice that answered sounded strangely distorted. “Got it….”
“Good.”
Chris blinked at Kyle. The president looked … bigger, somehow. His sleeves strained against his arms to the point of almost breaking, and the hair along his arms had thickened. “You look … funny.”
Kyle smirked. “So do you. Now get back out there. I want to see you make a real party animal of yourself.”
Chris couldn’t help but chuckle. “Think I already have.”
“Give it time, Chris. Give it time.”
A heavy thump on the back almost sent him sprawling. Chris nodded and grunted as he adjusted the pouch on the jock strap. The thing was starting to feel a little tight.
“Come on, bro.” Jack grinned as he laid a meaty arm around Chris’ shoulders. This time, the weight didn’t feel so overwhelming. It felt … comfortable. “Let me introduce you to the world of beer pong.”
——————————————————————-
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The chant rang through the air as Chris guzzled a whole pint of beer in one go. He slammed the glass onto the table, followed by laying his elbow into the platform as he awaited his opponent. He smirked at his old friend. “The student has become the master.”
Jack finished guzzling his beer and smacked his own glass onto the table. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, caveman.”
Chris grinned. “Me chug. Me drink good. Me fight good. Now, me wrestle good.” He shuddered as the tingling spread from feet and crotch through his body and into his head. A low rumble of pleasure surged as he hunched forward. His arm twitched in anticipation. His knuckles stood taut against the skin. His nose burned red from the alcohol that now raged through his bloodstream.
A rally of hoots roared in Chris’ ears as heat radiated pushed against them from within. It felt almost as though his own heartbeat were forcing the members to expand as the cool night air breezed over them. Seconds later, his hand clasped his friend’s in a grip of iron. Both furrowed their brows.
His arm burned. His chest strained. His lats and traps bunched and heaved as he engaged his core, pectorals, biceps, and triceps. A low growl escaped Chris’ lips as he bared his teeth and strained against the force of his friend’s arm. He wanted to win. He needed to win, to dominate. It just … felt right. The same lust burned in Jack’s eyes as the two locked in combat. He wanted to say something snappy, but … he just couldn’t think. It was like his brain was putting all the effort into the fight, too. He spread his legs wide on his stool.
Finally, two rips tore through the night as the table resounded with the defeat of a competitor.
“Oh, snap!” someone shouted.
Chris gaped disbelievingly at the table. His arm was throbbing, but it held Jack’s pinned to the table, like a wrestler waiting for the final count. Neither seemed to notice or care how the sleeves of their shirts had torn or how prominent their pectorals had become as the collars strained against their torsos. They heaved and finally grinned at one another.
“The winner is Chris!”
The crowd cheered, then broke out in a rousing shout. But Chris wasn’t greeted with the lauding of his name. Instead, the frat bros adopted the phrase that had defined their shock at the upset. “Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!”
Jack leaned next to his friend as they rose to greet the crowd. He scratched a pec idly. “Congrats, bro. I think you just won your nickname.” He seized his friend’s wrist and pulled his arm into the air. The chanting increased in volume as Chris stared dazedly into the crowd.
“I … I don’t know what to—” SNAP! The strap smacked against him. He hardly felt it. It was as though the force transferred from his waist, through his torso, into his chest, and finally struck home at his Adam’s apple. It throbbed and surged forward as his voice dropped like a stone. “—Say.” The invisible hands were at work again, this time on his jaw and face. His nose didn’t feel so much stuffed as swollen. His forehead thickened into a more prominent slope as his brow was slowly massaged and his eyes sunken into the hollows that were rapidly forming over them.
Jack grunted as he released his friend’s arm and thumped his own chest with a thick, hairy hand. “Don’t say. Do.”
Chris saw the hand reaching out of the corner of his eye. He knew what was coming. But he couldn’t stop it. No, he didn’t want to stop it. The band snapped again. His chest swelled with the sudden intake of breath. His head spun. And before he knew it, his mouth was already open, his throat resonating with a deep primal roar as he beat his chest with his fists. A gnarled carpet of thick hair sprouted on the backs of his hands and surged up the back of his arms.
The hooting and cheers intensified. The will of the many pounded against the one. They wanted him. They needed him. And who was he to deny them? His legs thumped heavily over the podium as he approached the stairs. The socks clung more tightly as the walls of his shoes strained and finally detonated with twin POPs that were drowned out by the siren call of the frat. Broad swelling feet bulged in their cocoons as he plodded heedlessly down the stairs.
Rough hands seized him, brushed his swelling muscle, his growing hair. Snap after snap resounded in his ears as thick powerful legs burst from the sheath of their respective pant legs, or what remained of them. They’d become more akin to a pair of shorts. Now they draped like a loin cloth, leaving just the waist band and a clear view of a swollen pouch that continued to grow and strain with his body mass. And still the name echoed. Still the call rebounded.
Who was he to deny them?
And with the acceptance of that name, that brutish call, something unlocked. Chris let go of his worries and cares. He let go of thoughts for the future. He was almost naked. There was no shame. With every snap, he grew. With every hoot and cheer, the candle of conscious thought guttered. Thick hairs sprouted over a torso that was rapidly becoming more rigid and carved. Each snap of his waistband another blow of the chisel. Thick hairs formed a treasure trail from his navel while his shirt rode up his torso.
Even crouched, his head stood above the rest now. He felt good. He felt better than good. He raised both arms and flexed. The other sleeve tore open as the mounds pumped into rigid peaks. Wisps of hair sprouted from under the collar. Chris didn’t even have to think. He was beyond thinking. He roared as he tore his shirt apart like so much paper. The rip of the fabric filled his chest with a primal growl of satisfaction that was followed by the snap of the final strands giving out. He shucked himself of the garment and threw it into the crowd, exposing the carpet of hair that had grown over his pecs and chest and curved downward in a V, then spread over his abs.
The hoots grew louder. The cheers devolved into a motley mob as the men that were no longer men surged and crashed against the rising cliffside that was Chris. The candle flame could hardly survive under the onslaught, and finally was snuffed by the winds of the frat. The light died. The ember burnt out, and the smoke trailed out his lips in the last intelligent phrase of the night. “Snap like. Give Snap more. Give Snap ALL!”
The rest of the night passed with victory after victory for the new alpha. Chris had accepted the role his clothes had given him, and he reveled in it. He outchugged, outwrestled, and outmatched every opponent. He hooted and grunted. He shoved and he surged. And most importantly, he continued to grow and dominate as his broad shoulders and deformed head stood high above the rest of the tribe. Yet, despite his virility, despite his dominance, despite every surge of growth and victory he gained, the strap and socks clung to him.
Snap didn’t mind. Snap didn’t care. The night was theirs.
The fire that had replaced the candle was his.
And they would feed it or face his wrath.
———————————————————————
Chris groaned as he finally came to. The room was blurry. His mouth felt like something had died in it and dried into mummy powder. And his head. He groaned again as the daylight struck sledgehammer blows on a spike that drove directly through his skull and into his brain.
“It lives!” Jack’s voice was unmistakable. It also exacerbated the headache.
Chris moaned and turned over on the bed. “Just let me die already,” he croaked.
“No can do, bro.” Jack grinned as he walked into his friend’s line of sight. “Pres wants to see you stat.” He sat on the bed and proffered a frosty glass of water and a handful of ibuprofen. “You’re gonna need these. Drink it all and get dressed.” He motioned to a set of sweats and a shirt with the frat’s logo on the left pectoral hanging from a wardrobe door. A fresh pair of tube socks and a large jock strap were draped over the shirt.
Chris cursed and took the proffered medicine.
“Drink it all, bro. Trust me, the water helps.”
When Chris finally mustered enough will to move, he swung heavy legs out from under the covers. The filthy tube socks pooled at his feet, and he easily slid out of them. The jock strap had completely lost all sense of elasticity. He had to hold it in place.
“Bro, do you mind?” Chris asked.
“Dude, it’s just us. Not like I haven’t seen the rest of it.” Jack chuckled. “You were pretty wild last night.”
“What?” Chris swore as the strap dropped to join its companions on the floor.
“Dude, just get dressed.” Jack shook his head. “I won’t look,” he promised. “There. Happy now?”
Reasonably mollified, Chris strode to the doors and pulled on the gear. The jock strap fit snugly over his body, and the pouch held comfortably while still showing off his heft. He scratched it instinctively as he reached for the next article of clothing.
“Boxers and briefs are in the drawers, if you want them,” Jack informed.
Chris’ head whipped back, but his friend was staring at the door to the room, instead. The dirty socks and strap were clung in one of his meaty hands. “No peaking,” he insisted.
“Bro, chill. It’s not like you’ve got anything to be ashamed of, anyway.”
A smirk pulled at Chris’ lips as he smacked a hand against his bicep as his voice dropped into a husky pantomime of Jack’s bass. “People pay to look at this bod, bro.” The smirk passed and he swayed on his feet. Why … why had he said that? That wasn’t—he didn’t—
“Easy, bro.” Jack was there in an instant. Thick hands rubbed Chris’ shoulders. “Relax. Kyle will explain.”
“I … I feel—This is wrong.” Chris’ hands ran over well-defined abs. Hairs brushed gently, soothingly over them. His thick, broad hands. “What … what did you do to me, bro? I … I feel—” He swore again. “My head. Why … why can’t I think straight?”
“I told you, bro. It’s the hangover. Just get dressed, all right? Kyle’ll get you straightened out. I promise.”
“My voice!”
“Is fine,” Jack assured. He raised the coat hangar and shoved the clothes against Chris’ chest. “Come on, bro. Get dressed. Kyle’s waiting. And you don’t want to keep the pres. waiting.”
Chris’ eyes clouded briefly, and he grunted. “I … don’t….” The sweats and shirt clung in all the right places to show off his newly enhanced physique. When he turned to face Jack, the two were eye-to-eye. Jack was wearing sneakers. Chris wasn’t.
“Come on, little bro. We don’t have all day.”
The socks were like old friends, and the tug of the fabric over his feet made Chris shudder in pleasure. The two friends thumped down the halls in relative silence. Those who saw them nodded gravely or otherwise communicated their acknowledgement in body language, rather than the spoken word.
Instead of the trekking to the study, Jack led his friend down the halls toward the basement, where Kyle towered with his usual intimidating stature. His arms were folded, his broad face turned in a flat line as he stared at the pair.
“Here he is, Sir,” Jack said softly as he bowed his head.
Kyle extended a hand. Jack handed over the discarded strap and socks wordlessly.
Then kyle turned to a door his body had obscured. “Come with me, Chris.”
It wasn’t a request, and even if it was, Chris felt instinctively that he couldn’t disobey. A flash of memory passed. Those thick arms holding him, pulling him back. They could easily do so again.
Their steps were muted by the carpet as they strode into a room walled off by rope on either side. Placards were mounted to the wall, at first with torn underwear and the remnants of socks. Then, as they progressed, the tatters grew less, though the stretching increased. Briefs, boxers, jockstraps, tube socks. Larger and larger.
“Our frat is very old, Chris,” Kyle began. The silence of the room made his voice feel heavier than it ever had before. “And we have a sort of tradition that passes with it.”
Chris’ body tingled, and he adjusted the pouch on his jock as it tightened. His clothes felt snugger than they had a moment ago. “What sort of tradition?” he asked. “And for that matter, what the hell is going on? Why do I look like this? Why do I sound like this? What happened last night?”
“Listen.” The command was calm, but the order snapped like a gag over Chris’ mouth. “I’m heading into my senior year here at the university. That means I have two semesters to pick a replacement and train him up to take my place in the frat.” He motioned with his free hand. “Look around you. Tell me what you see.”
“A bunch of old clothes.” Chris cleared his throat. The tingle had spread there now, too. The deeper pitch didn’t feel so forced anymore.
“These belonged to every president of the frat from its founding to now. Each of us wore the gear. Each of us grew, just like the other pledges. You wanna know what makes these ones special?”
“Wait, you mean everyone who rushes the frat turns into … this?” Chris motioned to himself.
“More or less.” Kyle smirked. “Usually less.” He approached a placard that bore his name in neat bold typeface over a sheet of brass. “This one’s mine.” He grinned proudly as he looked on a pair of boxers that had burst at the crotch and rent down the legs. “Tore those suckers wide open. But you.” He turned and smacked Chris on the back. “You took the cake, Snap.”
Chris flushed as his pectorals perked and the drooping fabric of the sweats started to hug his thighs and calves. “Snap?”
“Your new nickname.” Kyle smiled as he presented the strap. “You stretched these things to their limit and nearly burst the pouch. It’s a miracle the strap didn’t break when the others tried to snap it. That’s a new record for this material.” He pushed his finger against the fabric for emphasis. The silhouette of the finger was clearly visible.
“I … wore that?”
“It’s not like it looked this way when you started.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “Point being, Snap, you’re our new MVP. And more importantly, you’re going to be the frat’s new alpha.” He strode to a blank placard that lay on a plinth, then took a hammer and nails that had been laid aside to properly display the garments. “You’re my successor, little bro.” He smirked and hung the placard on the wall next to his. A set of ropes already waited for him to cordon off the zone, and a quick flick of a switch beamed the spotlight over the wood and metal, where Chris’ name flashed. “The old you? That’s gone. And honestly, good riddance. Trust me, this is way better.”
“But … but my major, my life. What am I supposed to say to my friends?”
“What did Jack say?”
“He called it a second growth spurt….”
“So, go with that. There. That settles it.” Kyle thumped his hand heavily on Chris’ back. This time, Chris didn’t budge.
“But … but I liked being smart.”
“You still are, Chris. Just not in the same ways.” Kyle wrapped his arm around Chris’ shoulders as they broadened. “Your interests might be a little different now, but you still have the same focus and drive. And more importantly, you have want. Which means you push yourself to get your desires and lead others to follow. If you want order, you can impose it. If you want to just … let go and de-stress for a while, that works, too. You want to work out and bulk up? No problem.” He grinned. “You’re going to make a great president, Chris. But I have to teach you how to fit the part. Your body’s helping with some of the driving, but now it’s time to take the wheel.” He chuckled. “Think of me as your coach. And practice is in session.”
Chris panted as he hunched forward and his eyes glazed over. “Bro….”
“That’s right, Chris. That’s right. We’ll make a right frat bro of you in no time.” He chuckled as his brow protruded and his muscles strained. “You’ll love being Snap. Trust me.” He chuckled again as his knuckles became more prominent and the shelf over his eyes formed into a unibrow. “And you can call me Grog.”
Gorilla Gaming
I sit in front of my computer, adjusting my microphone and lighting. I’m nervous. This is my first time streaming on a platform that isn’t Twitch. Twitch felt like home, yeah. But $50,000 dollars is $50,000 dollars. So when Gorilla offered me the money to exclusively stream on their platform, I took it.
I don’t know much about Gorilla, I’ll admit. I’ve heard of them. I mean, as a streamer, how could you not. “Twitch’s new rival” the media had deemed it. All my Twitch buddies had voiced their insecurities about the new platform potentially stealing their viewers. From what I know, Gorilla had only offered partnerships to those generic mindless streamers who play mindless shooters and sports games all day. Well, that was until they offered a partnership to me. I mean, I’m a gay streamer who plays Stardew Valley, Pokémon and Animal Crossing. I guess they’re trying to expand their audience?
I took a deep breath, staring down at my slim body. I hit the "Start Stream" button and turn on my camera ready smile.
“Hey, what’s up everybody?” I wait in silence as viewers flood into my stream. I load up Stardew Valley and click ‘continue game’.
Half an hour in and the stream continues as normal. Other than the odd question here and there about Gorilla, it’s as if I was still on Twitch. I harvest my crops mindlessly and glance at the chat.
ApeBoi6969: WASSUP BRO BENJAMIN. GOOD TO SEE ANOTHER BROTHER ON THE GORILLA GAME U KNOW WHAT IM SAYIN
I smile awkwardly, refusing to read the chat out loud. This wasn’t the average chatter I’d normally have. My chargers weren’t as… bro-ish. I mean, look at me. A nerdy little gay guy like me doesn’t tend to attract the type. My chatters are kind and sensitive. Although, now that I say it, I can’t see many of them in the chat today.
GamerDude22: LOOKIN LIKE A MONSTER FAM. BIG BENJAMIN GOT THE BIG BICEPS OUT TODAY AMIRITE :LUL:
TITTYSLAYER5000: BRO BE LIVIN UP TO THE GORILLA NAME :kappa:
I furrow my brow. I wear tank tops almost every stream and I’ve never had a reaction like this. I scratch my juicy pec, it bounces at my touch. I swear I wasn’t purposely bouncing it to show off my gains… I mean… maybe I was a little. But damn when you have a big hulking body like this, it’s hard to not show it off.
I drag the mouse with my big hand, watering the crops in the game. Suddenly, a funny idea popped into my head.
“360 water crop” I made my character do a spin in the game before pouring water onto one of my crops.
Laughing emojis filled the chat. I let out a vacant chuckle. Damn dude, I’m funny. No wonder Gorilla payed the big bucks to get me.
Suddenly, out of no where my character died.
“Damn, bro! What the fuck?” I screamed, much against my soft spoken nature. “Did you see that, chat? Fuckin stupid.”
The chat filled up with emojis again with some text sprinkled throughout.
MASTERMEATSCHLONGER: BROS BICEPS SO BIG HE CAN BARELY MOVE THE MOUSE :4Head:
DEEPINSIDEURGF: DUDE HE DUMB ASF HOW HE NOT SEE THAT COMIN :Jebaited:
BICEPBRO32: BRO MUST BE THINKIN ABOUT TITS CAUSE HOW TF HE NOT SEE THAT
SIRPECSALOT: U SUCK AT COD BRO UR BETTER SUITED FOR SOMTHING LIKE ANIMAL CROSSING LOL
These homos have no idea what they’re talking about. As if I’d play a gay ass game like that. It’s either Call of Duty or FIFA. No in between.
Besides, that dude came out of nowhere! I mean sure, I was thinkin about a girl’s rack I saw earlier today but that doesn’t even matter bro. That shit was bullshit.
I idly bounce my pecs as the kill cam plays, forcing me to rewatch my own death. I look away, ignoring the stupid death.
I let out a hot protein fart and laugh. The chat lights up. Dude, I’m fucking hilarious bro.
I place my hand back on the tiny mouse. Damn, why the fuck they make these things so small bro.
I move the mouse around, my pecs hindering my movement. Suddenly, a player steps out from behind a wall.
“360 NO SCOPE!” I spin my character around and eliminate him with my sniper. No scope needed.
The chat erupts in celebratory emojis.
“THATS WHAT I’M TALKIN ABOUT MY DUDES!” I yell, flexing my biceps in testosterone fuelled cockiness.
MATCH ENDED. TEAM WON.
I celebrate some more, flexing every muscle in my body, my hot stench being set loose from under my arms. God, I fucking stink. My armpit hair is dripping wet. Maybe I should take a shower… NAHHHHH.
Suddenly, the endgame kill cam comes on, showing me and my fucking amazing skills. God, I’m hard watching this bro. I’m fucking amazing.
“Alright, bros, it's been a sick stream! I’m gonna head to the gym. Maybe breed some chick, get her pregnant. Who knows.” I chuckle vacantly. “Catch you on the flip side, and remember brochachos, make sure to plant your seed deep! Till next time dudes."
I end the stream, feeling a sense of pump and accomplishment that I’d never felt before.
I hear a bing sound as an email comes in.
“Hey Big Bro Benny! We saw your latest stream today and thought you represented the Gorilla brand perfectly. We know you have more friends over on Twitch. We’re thinking about taking on a few more guys like yourself. Just send us some names and we’ll make them an offer they can’t resist. Thanks bro, the Gorilla team.”
I smile, scratching the thick bush beneath my pants.
I give them two of my best friends’ names: CQX and Piker. I email them back, my scratching having turned into rubbing my fat 7 inch babymaker through my shorts.
“We’ll reach out to them now.” Then, the Gorilla team finished off their final email with a command that even Big Bro Benny couldn’t disagree with. “Now, get off the computer and get out there and BREED”
Ook Ook
“Dude, stop taking my food from the fridge”
“Hey, it’s our fridge. What’s yours is mine”
“If you take my food again, I’ll… I’ll make you respect me”
“Uh huh. Whatever man.”
———————————————————————
Leo was your average nerd. So you could imagine his disappointment when he found out his new college dorm roommate was the biggest quarterback in college, Aspen. Aspen would constantly bully him, yell at him and blare music late at night. And perhaps most infuriating of all, Aspen refused to go shopping. So he mooched off of Leo. Taking every bit of food Leo spent his hard earned money on. But Leo had decided enough was enough….
The next morning, Leo watched his big alpha roommate come stomping out of his bedroom. The alpha strode over to the fridge and took out Leo’s bananas. The big jock smirked at Leo, peeled the banana and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. Aspen was clearly trying to annoy Leo. So Aspen was shocked when Leo just shrugged it off.
As Aspen swallowed the banana, he was taken back. It didn’t taste like an average banana. It tasted so much sweeter. So much tastier. It tasted…. amazing. Aspen began to moan as he chewed the rest of the banana.
“Oh fuck. That tastes good.”
Aspen took another banana, ripped the peel off and shoved it in his mouth. The banana causing his hands to grow. His fingers becoming thick and fat. Aspen didn’t notice, of course. He was too busy shoving bananas in his mouth. Aspen couldn’t help himself. He was on a strict diet. But how much weight could he gain from eating a few extra bananas, right?
As Aspen was lost in the bliss of eating the bananas, he didn’t realise that his body was itching. Leo watched in amazement as the once smooth faced jock grew a full beard in a matter of seconds. His beard was thick. It looked impossible to shave off. The permanent hair spread down his neck and up his chest covering his entire torso. His entire body began to become covered in the hair. Aspen was oblivious to the changes. All he could focus on was the bananas and how good they made him feel.
As Aspen swallowed the bananas, he began to grow bigger. Each banana causing him to grow fatter and rounder. His abs losing their definition. His stomach becoming rounder. He started getting fatter by the second. Each chew making him grow bigger and fatter. His face rounding out. His pecs becoming a perky set of perfectly fuckable man boobs.
Aspen looked down to see his new appearance. His big round gut jiggling. His new perky boobs bouncing. And a thick pelt of hair covering it all. Leo watched in shock as the jock screamed at his new disgusting appearance. Aspen’s hairy body smelled rank. As if he hadn’t showered in years. Leo could smell the jock’s pungent stink from across the room. Aspen’s ass began fattening up. Becoming rounder, more fuckable and a lot more hairier until suddenly, against Aspen’s will, he let out a big groaning fart.
PFFTTTTTTTTT
The stench filled the room, becoming trapped in Leo’s nostrils. Leo was repulsed by the smell. He didn’t think the jock would eat that many bananas. He was only supposed to have one!
“OH FUCK” PFFFFFTTTTTTTTT “HELP LEO! I CAN’T STO-BURRRRRRRRRP”
The smell of the man was becoming too intense for Leo to handle. Aspen was becoming some gross monster and it was all Leo’s fault. He couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sight of the hulking monster still shovelling bananas into his mouth.
“I HAVE TO GET HEL-BURRRRRRRP”
Aspen’s posture began to change as he ran towards the door. His big fat body jiggling with each stomp. Suddenly, Aspen’s knuckles began to feel… heavier. But as he waddled towards the door, he slipped further and further down the evolutionary ladder. His back hunching over. His hands becoming bigger and heavier. His knuckles dropping further and further until they eventually began to drag along the floor. His chin now resting on his perky fuckable man boobs. His brow began to become more pronounced, jutting out further and further. His jaw shifting until the only sounds that could come out of his mouth were
“OOK OOK”
Leo was in shock. The fat ape crawled around the floor like a monkey. His fat tits jiggling with each movement. His ass bouncing up and down. Aspen’s hairy ape stink was almost… intoxicating. Leo began to… like it… he began to… fall in love with it.
“No! This is disgusting. I need to get help” Leo resisted the beautiful stink from the ape.
But suddenly the fat ape let out the biggest, most nastiest, pungent fart Leo had ever smelled. The stink went directly into Leo’s nostrils. Overriding his thoughts. Infecting his mind. He needed to fuck Aspen right now. He needed to put his fat cock between those big bouncy man boobs. He needed to shove his nose up the stinky ape’s smelly crack. Aspen’s stink was the only thing that mattered.
———————————————————————
And so Leo and his ape roommate lived happily ever after. Well… at least Leo did. His mind was completely intoxicated by Aspen’s stink. All he could think about was feeding his pet. Sniffing his beautiful musk. He lived a life of pure bliss. But Aspen on the other hand… Aspen was delt a rougher deal.
Leo doesn’t realise it, but Aspen is completely aware of everything that is happening. While his body acts and thinks like an ape. His mind… his mind is completely normal. His mind remains completely unaltered. All Aspen can do is crawl around his apartment like a dumb ape while his Master Leo frequently fucks his perky man tits. Aspen feels ashamed but… he’s starting to love being this way. He tries to communicate what’s going on to Leo. He tries to snap him out of it. But the only thing that comes out of his mouth is
“OOK OOK”
I just graduated at the top of my class, but I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. I hate all this pressure to “live up to my potential” or whatever. Sometimes, I sorta wish people expected less of me…
The genie sits down in front of you with a set of VR goggles in his hands. “Here you go,” he says, sliding them on over your head. “Take a look at a few alternate realities.”
You start flicking through, experiencing your life as it would be if you’d made slightly different choices. The first few are very similar. Summa cum laude. Honours degree. Lucrative startup. Six figure book deal. Stressful, high effort shit. You can feel each different you’s anxiety and impostor syndrome tearing their minds apart.
As you flick further, more of your past changes. Trade school, rather than a prestigious university. Being on the football team, instead of spending all your time in the computer lab. But it’s still not different enough. You still feel under intense pressure to succeed.
You’re passing through realities so fast they blur together. Then, you catch a glimpse of one and pause. High school dropout. Not because you weren’t smart, just because you got bored. You spend all your time lifting, eating, and fucking. Your parents long ago despaired of you being anything other than a cubby porn star, and you love it. You click “accept” to enter this new reality.
The stench of your manly body fills your nostrils. You feel powerful, manly, and so, so slutty. Your brain slows down, atrophied from years of disuse. Yeah, you think, lying back to show off your armpits to the camera. This is the life.
Another wish fulfilled.
Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.
The Circus
YOUR HIRED!
It had been a serious night of partying for the gang. Celebrating Connors 21st was always going to be a huge deal for them. They’d been saving for a few months and had wasted no time with pre drinking at their flat before they even set foot into the carnival. It had been on their calendar for some time, posters had appeared weeks ago and being Connors birthday, it seemed like a no brainer that they all get drunk and go.
Now, several hours of shouting and making scenes throughout the small park. The three of them we blind drunk, and looking for their next ride. Connor, holding an empty plastic glass, threw it at a near by beer stand. “Bruv, gimme another one!” as he took out some cash and shoved towards him. The man half smiled as some other customers backed off slightly “Course, just let me serve these people first, then ill get to you” But the other two members of his little gang had other ideas. “Na, he’s a birthday boy so you do it alright!” The barman sighed as the man and woman he was serving both gestured to carry on, sympathizing. The barman turned “Ok then lads, beer comin up” as he grabbed the cans and plastic cups. “Anything else I can-“ “Yeah mate, fucking do one haha!” as They grabbed the beers and turned away, Zac holding his finger up, the barman looking equally angry and disgusted by them as they disappeared out of sight laughing like animals.
“Dude!” Rick began “Why’d ya gotta be such an animal!” as Connor continued to swig his beer. “Can’t help it if I’m the bigger man bruv!” and they bro fisted, loudly shouting as the approached a much darker looking building. “Oh my god lads-“ they all stopped, looking up at the unlit façade. FREAK SHOW was written in bulbs, all turned off. It was partly unpainted, the doors weren’t even on yet. Rick walked over to a fence and read out the sign pinned to it “FREAK SHOW is still looking for staff. Please come back soon” Connor punched the fence “For fu#ks sake!” before he noticed the large tents and cages behind the half finished building. A grin began to spread across his fresh 21 year old face. “How bout we have a look bros?” Rick and Zac both exchanged drunk glance “Won’t they just -hic- throw us out?” But Connor stood up straight and tapped the sign. “Says they need staff, can just blag it! Say we came to have a look at the job innit!” Connor always had a way with convincing the gang and in another few seconds of drunk nodding they were all in agreement. The three blokes walked slowly for the large wooden door, acting casual as they leaned against the front bellow the large unlit letters above. “Looks clear lads” Connor whispered laughing to himself. They all checked one by one, peering right and left for anyone who might see them before dashing inside under the wooden sign. ‘YOU ARE NOW ENTERING – THE FREAK SHOW!’
They found themselves inside a large tent, with one side joined to the buildings façade. There was a half build walkway that lead deeper. Its tall wooden walls painted with monsters and jungles made it hard to see far. “Oh damn it’s dark dude” Rick said under his breath as he bumped into Zac. Ahead, Connor had grabbed his phone and was using it to look around. “Woah” he gasped, pushing his grinning face into gaps and openings. The show was lined with cages and chains, they all seemed empty though as Connor pushed open a large cage door. It squeaked loudly as it swung open. Revealing the large space inside. Connor wasted no time walking inside reaching up. “Cant even reach the roof. What they got in here an elephant?” Rick and Zac stood by the large steel bars looking in as Connor paced the space. It was at least 10ft by 10ft box of steel bars and had a car tyer hanging from the celling.
Zac stepped forwards, rattling one of the solid steel bars from the outside “No idea, but I doubt they’ll find anything legally. This looks like a bear cage or sommit” Suddenly there was a loud squeak from the hinges and a crash of metal against metal as the huge gate swung back and slammed into position. The lock made a solid sounding ‘clunk’ as it hit. “What the-?!” Connor shouted, running back to the door and pulling. “Oh sh#t-it won’t open!” Zac and Rick both lept to the cage door and pulled hard. “It’s not budging!” Zac strained as a tough voice laughed at them from the dark. “Oh this is too perfect”
A bulky man, in a white vest and braces that seemed to be straining against his huge chest and broad shoulders, stepped out from the dark. He crossed his bulging arms and stood imposingly across from them. He had a rough face, a nose that looked like it had been broken once, and smiled at them. He didn’t look like he was a guy you wanted to piss off. “Er, sorry mate we just-hic-came to have a look about the jobs innit” Connor lied as Rick and Zac stood either side. The man pulled out a large joint and sparked it. “Job ay? Well I see you chose your position” tapping the steel bars and taking a long drag, then blowing it in his direction. The smoke began slowly swirling around him like it had a life of its own. “Yeah-just got lost heh- so er- you got the key?” Rick asked as the man laughed again standing upright. “I’m Gaz. I own this place. Been looking for some new workers, glad your three turned up when ya did” In one smooth action slid between Rick and Zac and threw his huge, heavy arms over their shoulders. Holding them close like a school bully, easily twice their size. “So what’s the plan lads? Make yaselves more a nuisance? Give more of my staff crap? Or maybe its breaking and entering?!” Rick and Zac’s faces drained, this guy was the owner? And he seemed to know about their night so far. Connor felt weird, coughing as more of the green smoke seemed to be getting in his lungs and eyes as he pleaded “Na for real-we just came in here -COUGH- This is kidnapping dude!” Zac tried to pull away but Gaz held them both him and Rick firmly in place. Biceps pressing against him. “Now now, You won’t wanna miss this” Connor meanwhile was breathing hard, his body was hot and sweat patches were appearing on his neck and pits as he backed away from the bars.
Rick gasped confused “W-what’s happening to him?!” Gaz smirked “I’ve decided to give you all jobs after all. Starting with ya Birthday boy here.” He leant over, speaking to Rick directly. “He WAS in the cage after all”
Connor finally fell forwards, clutching his chest as his shirt felt impossibly tight. It was almost soaked, he looked like he’d been in a gym all day and stank just as badly. “Arugh-this-this is insane!” Connor shouted through gritted teeth from the floor as his shirt started to tear along his back. Revealing a thin strip of slightly thicker, slightly darker skin bristling with tiny hairs. Zac and Rick watched in horror as their best friend kept growing. Soon his shirt bust open, showing off a large chest covered with thick black hairs that soon met the ones on his back. He was quickly carpeted and the black hairs started to look damp as sweat started to gather and soak into it.
He ran his huge fingers through the fur, it was thick, so wet with man sweat and stink it came away on his fingers. Gasping as his ass finally ripped a hole in his jeans, trying to keep up with his whole body’s steady expansion. The hole itself showed a thick meaty crack so covered in hair you couldn’t see it for stink and fur that was only getting thicker as it spread across his body.
“GRRRRAH! M-Make It Stop DUude! I’m SorrY!” as he felt the hairs spread up his neck, joining with a huge beard and sideburns to his head. Completing the single carpet of fur that linked around his wide pecs, belly, ass and legs. All slowly growing wider, bulkier and nastier by the second. His pecs were rounding out, nipples huge but soon even they were matted under his fur. His pits had gained special attention, for some reason the hair was longer and his larger frame stopped him from being able to close them. The stink wafted out with the hairs, the gap only getting larger as his gut, pecs and biceps grew.
Gaz laughed n reply to Connors remark, still smoking “Oh ok, so either of you two wanna take his place?“ Rick and Zac straight away shook their heads “N-Na mate, please” as Connor growled angrily. “You FUckerS!” His back cracked as what was left of his shirt, trousers and shoes tore off his expanding frame. His feet were now wider than bin lids and covered in thick black hairs longer than old head hair. “GuuAAHAH!” He boomed as he fell backwards, loosing his balance, landing flat on his ass in the tattered remains of his clothes. “OWWW! MA BAALLS-OOK!” He yelped as his huge legs twitched from the pain of nearly crushing the two bean bag sized nuts. Legs now spread apart wide by his huge rounded ball gut and a bulge so massive his boxers looked like an old hulk comic he finally stopped for breath. Sweat rolling off his entire body, like an anima he was covered hair from head to toe that looked like pubes, long, wiry, untamed and stinking.
“Oh…fu#k….” Zac mouthed from under the arm of Gaz as he and Rick could only watch as their best friend was transformed into some sort of monstrous freak right in front of them. Gaz laughed out loud “Oh damn bro, you stink” as the thick ripe smell reached the three of them, making the cage smell how it looked. The place somehow started to feel more complete Gaz thought. Connors huge gut, now easily taller than his old friends by itself and still pooling sweat under it, rumbled loudly. Connor raised his huge 2 feet wide hands to his gut, holding the massive alien flesh as it vibrated under them. Even to his new massive frame, all his body parts, feet, chest, belly and hands, were all comically oversized making him look stocky even for 14ft tall. “OOoooooo-GuT-HURT” he just managed to say as his ass finally released. His boxers must have taken the brunt of the damage as they immediately snapped from the back and sprang around him, leaving him finally naked. A huge, thick, sweaty sack large enough to sleep in, containing at least a fridges worth of cum in two truck tire sized nuts, with a girthy, fur covered 5 foot flaccid cock laying over them.
“FRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTRRTRTRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT” It was loud, long, and wet. Like a slob builder on a night of beer and kebab times 1000. His gut rumbled again as Connor couldn’t stop himself burping this time, his hand lazily scratching his hairy gut as if on auto pilot. “BURRRRRPRPRRRRRRRRRPP-OooooFuOOCK!” he tried to stop it but again, he was struggling to resist.
“HELLOOOP MEOOOK” He tried to speak but new teeth were growing in and making it hard to make words, his head hurt and last but not least, Connor was starting to feel himself slipping away. He could still see and feel, but his control was giving in. He thumped the floor with huge hands angrily. His massive shoulders flexed as his biceps popped out into huge 5 foot wide balls of meat.
Zac stepped forwards slowly, unable to process what he was seeing or smelling. Gaz let him slip from under his arm. “That’s-That’s insane-“ he uttered slowly, watching Connor try to both beg for help and scratch every new part of himself. “C-can’t you turn him back?” He turned to Gaz, now sparking up a new green smoked joint. “Oh sure I can-bit I ain’t gonna do that” Rick looked at him. “But you’ve fu#ked him. You’ve made him into a monster-y-your a damned monster!” as he pushed Gaz away from him. The two now stood by the cage as Gaz just grinned. “You gave me the idea by the way rick” Gaz grinned. “Didn’t you say and I quote -Why’d ya gotta be such an animal- huh? Seems like you did this to your selves. Or Rick did this to you anyway ay birthday boy” He leered, making eye contact with the new hulking ape through the bars.
Inside Connor knew his mates didn’t do this to him, he tried to shout for help again, tell them to run. Instead, he growled. Gut heavy he slowly pulled himself up onto his thick knuckles. Balls scraping the dirty floor as he stood up. Wet with sweat as he paused to get his balance. He was hunched over, his face pressing forwards and his ears were stuck out 90’ angles. He looked dumber and dumber by the second, while his old mind fell into a back seat. ‘Let me out! I’m sorry! I fu#king stink! Ow its horrible man! Make it stop ill do anything!” but his huge body ignored him and just ooked. Lashing out as he punched the cage wall, now focused on stinking, eating and being as disgusting as he could be. “ME WANT-“ He almost said before he caught a sniff of something. He slowly looked under his thick arm, and followed the black wet hair to the long pit hair than hung down about a meter under each arm. Thick with sweat and musk. “Oh god no! Please, uh, I’m gonna be sick!” he screamed internally as his body licked, he loved it. He stuck his nose in, it wrapped over his face and he used his arm other arm to lift his pit more to get his head in deeper. He rolled onto his back. His ball twitched as his rod began to react to the sensory overload.
“Zac…oh fu#k check out his dick dude” Rick pointed but Zac was already staring in horror and shock, even some jealously as his 5 foot rod became 6 foot, then 7. It pushed up to 8 long and wide feet in length, before its own mass made it drop slowly to the floor with his balls. His massive hand lept down without any hesitation and began to pump. His head still in his pit. But one hand wasn’t big enough. It was too wide even for him. He lower his arm and began to beat off with both hands. But without the stink of his pits it started to go soft, he lifted his arm again “OOOoOOOOH! OOK! SO GUD OOOK” Dumb words slipping though as he went from whacking off to sniffing himself as he was left, rolling around like an animal in his stinking den.
Gaz waved a hand as the joint smoke wafted up over Zac and Ricks heads to create a long sign that attached to the roof of the cage. “THE GREAT APE! THE UNTAMED ANIMAL!” Gaz sounded out “Nice ring to it ay lads, and oh yeah” he snapped his fingers, before several lights appeared and the door seemed to fix and repair around them. Soon music began to play as Connor sat back, slightly confused by the noises. “Now the freak shows open, at last am I right-“ he grabbed Rick and Zac under his arms again as he pulled them away from their old friend. “Come back! Please don’t leave me like this!” He shouted out, but all they heard as they were led away was a loud burp, followed by frantic ooks as huis balls clenched and finally his shaft stood rock solid as it gushed gallons of thick ropes of jizz all over his cage and himself. Sealing his transformation into the Freak Ape Man forever as he shouted and struggled in silence to escape inside his stinking, musk prison.
“Don’t worry bout him” Gaz said with a husky reassuring voice as he manhandled them out the tent. They couldn’t help but want him back, Zac had always followed what Connor had said since they met, this had all been for HIS birthday and now… Even Rick walked dazed and shocked, his eyes wide as he realized they were probably Next, but at least they weren’t in the freak show they both thought. Gaz meanwhile, pulled them between the caravans of workers and ‘behind the scenes’ of his carnival as guests began to flow into the new Freak show. Grinning like a thug as he pushed them towards the other broken rides. “So many jobs to fill lads-“ he took a long drag on his cigar like joint, talking out the side of his mouth “-What ARE we gonna do with you two then ay”
Zac and Ricks Story will Continue in Part 2…
Lemme know what ya thought of the part 1 lads. Only gets worse for the lads from here on…
================
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(via asnir96)
A Halloween party where they give you costumes there. That seemed perfect, as neither me nor my roommate Roonie had any money for real costumes. When we got there, it was already packed. “There’s only a few costumes left” the girl said apologetically.
We didn’t mind much. Roonie took the construction worker hat and vest, and I decided to go with the dog mask and leather tail, which also came with pads for the knees and mittens for my hands. I’m sure it was some sort of kinky gay things, but it was better than nothing, and if any guys hit on me I could always tell them I was straight.
When we entered the bar per say, we quickly noticed that… well… it wasn’t our kind of party. It was, to say the least, an orgy. And mostly guys, although I could spot a few girls getting fucked here and there. There were plenty of people just drinking and talking tho, and Roonie said to at least get one drink, since we came all this way and it was getting late. We ordered, and the bartender gave me my drink in a dog bowl. Funny, I thought. The mask and the mittens would have made it awkward to drink even if it had been in a glass, and I had to resort to lapping like a dog. I could have removed the mask probably, but I didn’t feel like it. I was kind of getting into the whole costume thing.
“If you want to play the dog should you drink it on the floor?” Roonie said. I looked at him. He had asked it as a question but it wasn’t really a question. He meant that I should do what he says. Guess he was also getting into his role, playing the dumb straight aggressive construction worker. “Sure” I said, and he put the bowl on the floor.
I went on all four and lapped a bit more at it, getting into the role playing of the thing. It was kind of hot to pretend to be someone, or rather something else for a bit.
My drink splashed into my face as something started pouring in it, splashing my mask, my face, and my shirt.
I looked up to find my friend with his dick out, pissing in it. For a moment I had the strange idea that Roonie was physically changing. I’d seen his dick a few times, years of friendship making mishap happen, but now it seemed bigger. And Roonie looked… fitter maybe… a bit hairier. It was hard to explain.
“Drink, dog.” he said as he kept pissing in the bowl.
This was going a bit too far so I just said “very funny Roonie.” I should have been mad, but I just found myself confused at what was happening. He just answered “I don’t think dogs are supposed to talk.”
At that I tilted my hand, thinking about that. Roonie was right. If I was to play my costume right I shouldn’t talk. And well… I should drink from the bowl…
Roonie had finished pissing and I started lapping. I’d gotten used to it so it was a bit easier now, taking more at the time. As I was finishing my bowl I heard a loud, deep voice asking “Is it yours?”.
I looked up. A… man? A man but not really. A large man in a latex Minotaur costume with a huge latex bull dick and balls hanging from between his legs was talking to Roonie, who just shrugged.
“Not really, he’s a stray I guess.”
I felt hurt a bit, but by Roonie smirk I could tell it was what he wanted. He was playing his role too, trying to play the dude who wouldn’t care for dogs like me. “Do whatever you want with it, I’m going to smoke.” he said. Before leaving the other dude simply said. “Well if you want it at the end of the night you can have dibs, but otherwise I’m sure someone else will want to bring it home.”
Silly guys, I thought, talking as if we weren’t all gonna go home and pretend nothing happened after this. As if I was not gonna pretend I drank Roonie’s piss.
The Minotaur put a leash on me, which I had no idea he had, and started walking. I followed, deciding to keep the roleplaying up a bit longer.
He brought me to the back of the bar, where it was definitively not just a bar anymore but rather an orgy or something akin to a whore house. People were lining up in front of guys, all dressed in different costumes. There was a fat dude with a pig nose, someone with a giant butt, a sex doll, a dude trapped in a complete latex costume, and many others. I was brought to an empty spot and in no time he had ripped my clothes off of me, leaving me completely naked. I couldn’t see much with the mask, but I could see the latex of my mittens had somehow fused with my skin, and even progress.
“Damn, you’re not far enough to take me in I think. I’ll come back.” the Minotaur said, and he tied my leash to the wall.
I’m still not sure how I didn’t panic. It felt harder to think, maybe. Thinking “It’s all part of the role playing” felt normal at that point, and even as guys started fucking my mouth and ass I just taught “just part of the costume.” I drank more piss, sniffed dirty socks and put some in my mouth, sniffed balls, sucked cocks and cums, and thought “All part of the costume.”
All the while I could see, feel, the latex progressing. I could wag my tail, and taking dicks no longer felt hard, just good. It felt as it stretched me, but there was no pain.
Roonie came back eventually, with his new, hairy body and dick, smelling of beer and cigarettes. He didn’t say anything, just fucked me hard and left again. When he finished, he knelt next to me and patted me on the head.
“Welp I’m gonna go pup. I hope you have fun. I told the Minotaur guy that if nobody claimed you he can call me, but otherwise I guess I’ll see you next year at the Halloween party if you come back.”
And before I could do or say anything he was gone and another guy took his place, putting his dick in me. I was sure he was joking tho, he would come back for me. It was just part of the roleplaying, right?
Love your animal tag; think you could make me a big bull for a farm?
You'd had friends rave about dude ranches, said it was the best week of their life. You figured you'd give it a try, but you were only free during the fall calfing season. You figured that wouldn't be a problem, but the ranch was really focused on breeding the bulls with the cows. You asked to get involved somehow and finally someone figured out a way. You got a daily supplement along with your food intake doubling and then tripling. They had you working away, but you didn't mind. You were seeing incredible results in your body. You showed up with a nice built, but now toward the end of the week you're stacked like a freight train. Funny how a week of lifting hay bails can really build your chest and arms. However, as you were out working in one of the pastures you couldn't help but find yourself entranced by one of the cows out there with you. With your nostrils flaring, a weird animalistic urge was starting to take over.
Don't worry about your stay getting extended. Right now you just want to help focus on helping with this years breeding.
Those dog collars look really nice. Do you have anymore? Asking for a friend...
We have plenty in a variety of colors. Don't forget the leash either. You don't want your new best friend to get away from you. Red Collar
Take your new friend on a trip. Roll down the window and let that fresh air hit his nose. Don't mind the nose art he's eventually going to leave you though.
Blue Collar
Need a little more high energy friend? Try giving him a blue collar. I'm sure he'll love to go on runs with you as soon as he's finished.
Green Collar
Green should be calming, but it ends up creating the opposite effect. Any friend who tries this on ends up becoming a pure fluffy ball of energy and chaos.
Reflective Collar
Need to make sure your soon to be four legged friend is safe? Get any of the collars with the reflective design and you'll always be able to find them.
Special Edition Collars
Got a friend who won't stop talking about Scooby Doo? Well maybe it's time to let them really understand what Rutroh means and give them one of our special edition collars.
Golden Collar
Got a team mate or a player who needs to listen more? Slip a golden collar around them. Guaranteed to have them doing all your commands by end of 2nd quarter.
Yellow Collar
Just had a bad breakup, but you aren't sure if you're ready to let them go? Slip on a yellow collar. Even if they try to run away, they'll always get returned to you since the collar says you own them now.
