Loss Of Clothing - Tumblr Posts

Vitaliy Ugolnikov 

Maybe a story about muscle modifications morphs? Like a guy says he’d like a body like a Greek statue and ends up like the enormous ass Perseus he morphed?

“Babe, this is stupid,” Beau yawned as he followed his boyfriend, Darren, around the museum. Beau had told his boyfriend that he was fine with going to the museum that had a special exhibit on Greek statues, but he’d only been saying that to be nice. Truth be told, the stud had absolutely no interest in art or going to boring museums. However, Darren had complained earlier how the two of them never do much together besides sex.

Darren frowned. “Well, let’s look at this one,” he said, pointing to a statue of a naked man.

Beau rolled his eyes and crossed his buff arms over his muscled chest which stretched his t-shirt to the limit. “If you wanted to check out some muscles, then I could’ve given you an up-close-and-personal view at home,” he muttered under his breath.

Darren didn’t hear and was already on his way to look at the other marble statue.

Beau sighed heavily and leaned against an empty podium that had a “Coming Soon” plaque on it. As soon as he rested against it, he felt an odd shock ripple through him, making him gasp.

“What the fuck?” he grunted, taking a step away from the vacant space. He looked around for some indication that someone else had seen, only to realize that he was by himself in the wing of the museum.

He shrugged and started to make his way towards where his boyfriend had walked off, feeling an odd tightening sensation across his body— RIIIPPPP!

Beau froze in his spot and looked down at his body, his eyes going wide as he witnessed his muscles packing on meat. The ripping sound had been from his shirt unable to contain his growing mass from his arms bulking up and his pecs plumping out in front of him. He took a nervous step, hearing yet another loud ripping noise as his shorts tore away from his expanding form.

“Fuck!” he gasped as his thighs started to push closer to one another and he felt an immense weight on his back side. He looked over his shoulder and nearly passed out as his bubblebutt started to get bigger and bigger, his cheeks inflating outwards and puffing out at the sides to inflate to the size of basketballs.

When the growth was finished, Beau looked over his larger form in shock. A part of him was ecstatic over his larger muscles, but he was also embarrassed over his immense ass that jutted out from his body at a severe angle. He blushed when he realized that he was naked and stuck in a warped body that was more akin to one of the Greek statues than his normal self.

He saw the back of his boyfriend as he studied a nearby painting, and opened his mouth to yell for help.

Beau strained and tried to yell out for Darren, but no noise came out of him. He cleared his throat and kept trying over and over, but all that came out from him was silence. Beau frantically rubbed at his neck, but something caught his eye.

The bottom-heavy hunk cocked his eyebrow as he looked at his hands, noticing that they were paler than normal.

His heart sped up in his larger chest as the stud watched the paleness grow in intensity until his hands looked as white as the marble on the statues in the museum. He waved his buff arms around wildly, as if he could shake off the marble color that was taking over, but all it did was continue to spread, consuming all of his buffed up body.

Then Beau felt his large legs start to propel him forward without any control on his end. He gritted his teeth as he fought with all of his might to stop walking towards the empty podium, wincing as he felt his much larger asscheeks shifting and jiggling with every step he took. Beau positioned himself up onto the podium and raised one of his buff arms, props appearing out of thin air in his grasp and on his buff body. He even felt himself push his large bubblebutt out to accentuate its roundness.

A cool breeze blew over Beau’s warped, pale body and he found himself frozen in a pose, stuck as one of those Greek statues in the museum. He tried with all of his strength to scream or to move a muscle, but he was helpless— stuck silent and motionless.

He saw Darren walk back into the wing, looking around for him. “Beau?” he called out, looking confused as to where his boyfriend went.

Beau screamed internally as he witnessed his boyfriend looking around for him before leaving to another part of the museum to continue his search. All the while, the bottom-heavy statue was stuck in his pose, forced to hear the many comments from the other museum goers about how large his muscles were and how hot his massive ass was.

He was a work of art.

Brad Rowe shuffled through his duffel bag, looking for his board shorts and t-shirt. The bodybuilder and a few of his friends from the gym had come to Muscle Beach to chill and flex for a few onlookers. However, now it was starting to get late and the straight bodybuilder was ready to head home.

“Hey, have any of you seen my clothes?” Brad asked his friends, turning his bag upside down to shake the contents out. There was another pair of speedos— a red one that was the same small size of the blue ones he wore, a pair that he couldn’t remember packing earlier. There was also some protein bars, bottled water, and even his phone charger. However, the muscle man couldn’t find his shorts or shirt. He frowned as he looked through the bag one more time, his massive form only covered by the skimpy blue speedos he’d worn to the beach as a dare, joking that he could get more attention in the tiny fabric than his friends, which he did.

The other three in his group were already dressed in their clothes and the older one, Larkin, cocked his eyebrow at Brad. “Your clothes?” he asked, sounding really confused. “You’re wearing them.”

Brad gave out a fake laugh. “No really,” he grunted, looking all around the changing room that was attached to the restrooms at the beach for his clothes. His tiny speedos were really tight, so much that the sides of his cock and balls were visible if one stared at the right angle, and the back was starting to slip between his large ass cheeks.

Everyone else just stared at him blankly, each one looking confused at the hunk’s words.

“It’s getting late, Brad,” Larkin groaned, “stop playin’ around so we can get going.”

Brad wanted to argue some more, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the words seemed to vanish. “O-okay,” he numbly muttered, shoving the spilled contents back into his duffel bag before trailing behind the group.

The three bodybuilders in front wore modest board shorts and billowy t-shirts that shielded their massive forms from lusting eyes. Brad’s face turned red as he followed, clad only in his tiny speedos. He felt the back of them slip between his shifting cheeks, and the pouch containing his cock kept bouncing back and forth as his wide thighs maneuvered past each other. The evening breeze that blew over the beach was a little chilly, and Brad’s nipples grew hard, sticking out in front of him for all to see.

He knew that this was wrong, that something was up. The group left the beach and began to walk down the sidewalk to where they’d parked their cars. Even with the beach out of sight, no one seemed to look at the speedo-clad bodybuilder in an off way. Brad’s face was beet red as he walked. He wanted to say something, wanted to cover himself up somehow, but for some reason, whenever he thought about it, he knew that he never wore anything more than a tiny speedo so that he could show off as much of his massive muscles as possible.

“Lookin’ good, Sexy!” a guy called from his sports car as he drove past the group, eying Brad’s nearly naked form.

Brad’s face heated up even more, especially when he felt his cock start to twitch with the idea of people lusting after his displayed form. It didn’t take long for his nine inch cock to spring itself free of the tiny speedos, waving out in front of him for all to see.

“Fuck!” he hissed as he tried to cover himself up.

“Why so modest all of a sudden?” Larkin teased him from up front. “You always show off. Why stop now?”

Brad wanted to deny it, to plead to his friends that something was terribly wrong. Something had happened to him, he knew it. But again, for some inane reason, he also knew that Larkin was right. Fog clouded his mind and Brad winced as he had flashes of memories showing him never wearing anything more than a tiny speedo, whether it be at the gym, at the mall, the movie theater, even restaurants. His body was always on display and people loved to gawk.

And, as was evident by his throbbing cock, Brad loved it when people looked.

--

[Photo from: twitter.com/viralsmorphs]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 04: Hypnotized

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04

At Peter’s behest, Derek had begrudgingly agreed to start seeing a therapist to help him deal with some of his anger issues. At first, the werewolf was dead set against talking to some random stranger about his life, yet once he’d actually met Dr. Callahan, the therapist had somehow managed to get Derek to lower his walls. Dr. Callahan got Derek to feel extremely relaxed in his office and open up, leading to the stud to being all ears whenever the older man spoke. The therapist clearly knew his stuff, because almost overnight, Derek could feel his mood lifting and his thoughts refusing to drift towards anything that would piss him off. He would instead spend his days in an almost giddy haze, smiling happily as he went about his work and hobbies, completely unbothered. 

Derek felt like his life had changed for the better, all thanks to Dr. Callahan.

Still, every now and then, Derek would feel a little confused whenever he’d be going about his day, and tons of guys would keep staring at him. It wasn’t the fact that they were staring that was so weird, it was the fact that Derek loved them staring.

When all eyes were on him, the werewolf couldn’t help but bask in the warmth that the mens’ gazes brought him, leading to him either flexing his massive arms or unbuttoning his shirt for them.

Speaking of shirts, Derek would usually have to force himself to wear one… or really anything at all. The thought of wearing clothes was so constricting to the young man, and he loathed the idea of covering his large muscles with any sort of fabric. There were numerous times when he’d be out in public, and it would take him a good deal of time to realize that he’d been wandering around town without a shirt on, letting his plump chest muscles be on full display. After a bit of shopping, Derek had eventually changed his wardrobe so that it consisted of nothing but skintight, synthetic material that hugged his massive muscles tantalizingly. His shorts never went past mid-thigh, and he refused to wear underwear, allowing his perpetually hard cock to press against the front nonstop. And all of his shirts (a total of three since he hated to wear them) were so small that they were more like crop tops, never passing his belly button and always having the collar so low that his pecs frequently spilled out of them. Whenever he went out, Derek was sure to attract loads of lustful stares from men.

And Derek took full advantage of the lustful staring, bedding man after man.

Not a night went by when Derek wasn’t bouncing on some guy’s dick or sucking a guy off— sometimes at the same time. The werewolf was nearly insatiable now, constantly thinking about dick or drooling over a guy who would wander into his line of sight. It wouldn’t be long before Derek would approach him, flex a bit and playfully flirt, before the two would go find a private location. Or sometimes it didn’t even have to be private. There were a few times at the local gay bar where Derek would get loudly fucked on the dancefloor by a line of guys, feeling incredibly turned on by the fact that many other men were watching.

All in all, Derek’s life had done a complete one-eighty for the best, and Derek had Dr. Callahan to thank for that. Every night when he’d go to bed and place his headphones on over his ears to listen to the tapes his therapist had made just for him, he’d dreamily smile and be extremely thankful that he’d listened to Peter and had attended Dr. Callahan’s hypno therapy sessions.

“You’re a dumb muscleslut,” Dr. Callahan’s quiet voice murmured underneath the soothing wave sounds of the relaxation session Derek listened to. “All you’re made for is showing off your muscles and fucking. You’re just a dumb muscleslut…"

[Base Photo Source: https://musclegrowth.net/gallery/image/82061-megagrowthspurtrthumbjpgf2c25a65f23b8b63dad53f5ebde6d4fejpg/?context=new]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 22: Stripper

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22

"You know, Derek,” Isaac scoffed as he trailed behind his alpha in the dimly-lit club, “when I agreed to come to your bachelor party, I didn’t think that we’d be stalking Stiles during his bachelor party.”

Derek just grunted in response, using his werewolf eyes to scan the crowd. His snarl was set deep on his face as he looked for his fiancé, ready to tear some guy who gets too close to him to shreds. In the back of his mind, Derek was already berating Scott for dragging Stiles to a strip club. Granted Stiles and Derek hadn’t explicitly vetoed strippers at their respective bachelor parties, Derek wasn’t good at quashing down his jealous side.

Hence, he’d bribed Isaac with the promise of whiskey and cigars in the guise of a bachelor party, when in reality they were spying on Stiles.

“He’s right over there,” Isaac sighed, gesturing towards a private booth.

Derek narrowed his eyes in that direction, seeing Stiles sitting with Lydia and enjoying copious amounts of alcohol. Stiles had ordered a bright pink one that had an array of colorful fruits on top of the glass, and he eagerly sipped it down as he chatted away with his friends. Even though it was clear that this club was meant to have some dancers, given the pole on top of the table, Derek was slightly relieved when he saw that his fiancé wasn’t anywhere near the strippers.

“Oh,” Derek muttered, feeling a little foolish.

“See?” Isaac said, clapping his alpha on the back. “All that worrying for nothing. Shoot, if you were really that concerned, then why don’t you just be his stripper?” Shaking his head, Isaac stalked over to the table where Stiles’s bachelor party was at, happily snatching a drink off of the table.

Derek rolled his eyes and turned around, getting ready to leave the club.

The music on the speakers changed to an upbeat tempo dance song. The beats were so loud that they took over Derek’s senses, and he struggled to hear anything outside of the wordless song that a bunch of sweaty dancers gyrated to.

He didn’t notice it at first, but Derek soon became altered to the fact that he was slowly starting to shift his hips from side to side. The movement began to pick up speed until the werewolf was gyrating in the club, just like the other dancers.

The alpha’s heart started to race in his chest as he realized that he couldn’t stop. No matter how much he tried to tell himself to stop dancing, Derek was quickly learning that he wasn’t in control of his own body.

Derek’s hips kept swishing back and forth, and the alpha’s trepidation grew when his muscled arms started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Derek popped them off, one by one, until he tossed the useless fabric to the ground. The werewolf was shocked as he threw his hands behind his head, crunching his abs to make them pop as he couldn’t stop showing off on the middle of the dance floor. 

A few of the other patrons looked Derek’s way and even began to cheer him on.

Derek was beyond humiliated and wanted nothing more than to run off and hide from the prying eyes, but the more eyes that were on him, the worse his uncontrollable behavior grew.

Despite roaring with fury on the inside, Derek pursed his lips as he reached up with both of his hands, thumbing his nipples for the crowd. Derek was virtually begging himself to stop, but those pleas were quickly erased when he felt his cock start to harden from showing off. His hands dropped to his pants and before he could try to stop himself, the werewolf tore the denim away.

Clad in only his tight boxer briefs, the frantic Derek could only smile as he gyrated his hips, causing his hard cock to bob noticeably back and forth.

The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers as Derek was egged on.

Derek straightened up and held his head up high, his stiff legs carrying himself off the dance floor and over towards the table where Stiles sat at. Despite the cocky smirk on Derek’s handsome face, his eyes were wide and panicked, and he hoped that his fiancé would figure out a way to help him.

“I heard someone’s about to get married,” Derek said in his deep voice, crossing his thick arms over his beefy chest.

Stiles looked up from his drink, his eyes going wide at the side of the nearly naked Derek. Coughing on his cocktail, all he could do was nod.

Lydia was the only one who seemed to have her wits about her. “Derek?” she snorted. “Why are you crashing—”

Derek stepped in front of her to approach Stiles directly, smiling widely despite his freaked out eyes betraying his cocky expression.

“Well,” Derek heard himself say, “I hope your future husband can take care of all your needs.” He felt himself turn around and flex his meaty bubblebutt. He playfully bent over, wiggling his perky butt for his fiancé, feeling cool air pass over his cheeks more than it should have. Derek looked down at his crotch, inwardly wincing at how his boxer briefs had somehow morphed into a tight, black thong. The pouch was filled to bursting with his massive cock, and suddenly, he could feel the small strap of fabric slipping between his huge cheeks, allowing his bubblebutt to be on full display. To add to it, cuffs appeared on his wrists while a collar and bowtie magically popped around his neck. Derek cringed at his new, slutty outfit, but his body only fed into it.

Derek turned back around and flexed his large biceps in front of Stiles’s awed face, briefly leaning down to lick his massive mounds. His pecs bounced up and down, and Derek grabbed the back of Stiles’s head, pulling it forward so that his face was shoved into the crevice of Derek’s impressive pectorals. Despite being extremely embarrassed by his actions, Derek couldn’t deny that he was also turned off by showing off for his fiancé.

Erica drunkenly tossed a few dollars at Derek’s feet, and Derek felt himself up the ante.

His thumbs hooked into the thin straps of his thong and he quickly tugged the skimpy fabric down, allowing his hard seven inches to bob out in the open air for everyone to see.

Derek was screaming on the inside, but all he could do was helplessly smile and wrap his fingers around his thick cock. He moaned loudly as he began to jerk himself off in front of Stiles, a growing crowd forming behind him to watch the show. When he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, Derek dropped to his knees and eagerly buried his face in Stiles’s covered crotch.

Stiles immediately grew hard, and despite having about a billion questions regarding way Derek was acting the way he was, he couldn’t help but give in. He unzipped his pants and allowed his slutty fiancé to fish his cock out.

Derek felt himself lean in and take all of Stiles’s cock into his mouth hungrily. He couldn’t prevent his loud moans from thundering out from himself as he sucked off his fiancé. Derek wasn’t used to being the one giving a blowjob, but he was somehow able to deep throat the entirety of Stiles’s cock, even pausing a bit to lap at his slit. Worse was that he couldn’t stop himself from flexing his muscles and wiggling his huge muscle butt, the squishy globes jiggling wildly behind him for the crowd to gawk at.

No matter how humiliated Derek felt, he couldn’t ignore how great it felt to suck off his fiancé— plus, it was even more amazing for having others to cheer for him. 

Stiles tensed up and came, shooting his hot load straight down Derek’s throat. The werewolf greedily guzzled it down, moaning loudly as he did so.

Derek felt all of the large muscles in his body flex and bulge as he came, shuddering as he unleashed his load all over the floor of the club. He moaned loudly as he came, made all the more worse but he fact that the whole crowd cheered him on as he came. As he panted in his post-orgasm, Derek finally felt his blush take over his face, being back in control of his body again.

“Damn, Der,” Stiles breathed as he tried to catch his breath, “you’re the best stripper I’ve ever seen.”

Despite himself, Derek felt himself grow hard again and he couldn’t help but smirk upwards at his future husband. “Well, lucky for you I have lots of moves I can try out on you,” he said, surprised that he meant it.

I've always wanted to be a big and hairy muscular man, but I was not blessed with that kind of body. Any way you can help me out?

Imagine if it were an instant transformation...

You were sitting at your desk at work, annoyed that you had at attend some stupid meeting that really could've been an email. You glanced at the clock and knew that you had to head to conference room soon.

You were in the middle of rolling your eyes when-- BWOMPH!

All of your clothes were torn to shreds as your body exploded. The chair you were in groaned as it supported your new immense weight.

"Wh-what..." you trailed off, struggling to wrap your head around what happened, or why your voice sounded incredibly deep. Your body clashed together in ways it wasn't supposed to: arms rested on lats, thighs pressed together, and pecs rested on a cresting roidgut.

You glanced down at yourself, shocked when you saw an incredibly hairy and muscular body, looking like you were a bara, off-season bodybuilder.

"Holy shit," you muttered to yourself in awe as you bounced your new hairy pecs and flexed a massive bicep, marveling at its sheer size.

Even your cock had packed on some serious size, looking like it struggled to be contained in the colorful speedo that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. It strained to wrap around your new, hairy bulk, looking painted on. The back of it even shifted up between your rotund cheeks.

Your warning alarm beeped, letting you know that it was time to head to the meeting. You looked down at your hairy new muscles and knew that none of the clothes you had on you would cover up your inflated form.

But then a new memory popped into your head...

For some reason, you knew with one-hundred percent certainty that if you were to go home and shuffle through your closet and dresser, the only article of clothing that you'd be able to find would be the skimpiest, brightest colored speedos.

You owned no pants to cover up your thick thighs and shield away your bubblebutt. And you had no shirts to cover your hairy muscletits.

Your new bulk would be forever on display.

And you loved it!

You leapt out of your office chair and headed out the building instead of going to the stupid meeting, eager to show off your new body to everyone who crossed your path.

my buddy has such a flat butt, he can’t keep his pants. it’s really embarrassing for him. do you think you could help him out?

Oh, poor guy. Let’s see what we can do. Go ahead and put this in his drink, and it should help him out. (*slides you a little vial of clear liquid) But, only put half of the vial in at a time.

You agreed and took the vial, eager to help your flat-backed friend…

You and your friend, I think his name is Jason, were getting ready to play a big baseball game. The two of you were active on your community team, and loved to play the sport, spending hours practicing. A plus to being an athlete was that your bodies were both fit and impressive… with the exception of Jason’s flat butt.

Still, you were ready to help out your friend, because you’re just such a nice guy.

When Jason wasn’t looking, you grabbed his water bottle and uncapped the vial, ready to pour in half of it. Carefully, you tilted the small glass vial so that the clear liquid could slowly fall in at a controlled rate and—

In a flash, the entire vial emptied into the water bottle. Oops.

For a brief moment, you panicked and wondered if you’d wasted your time and your chance to help your friend; but before you could react, Jason stalked forward.

“Hey, Man, can you pass me my water?” he asked in his deep voice. He’s a really handsome man with large, sexy muscles and a killer smile. It’s just a shame that he doesn’t have a rear, so to speak.

“Um,” you tried to stall, unable to think up an excuse. “Here…?” You hesitantly closed the lid and handed him the spiked water bottle, holding you breath as he eagerly grabbed it.

“Thanks,” Jason grunted as he took a large swig of the tainted liquid, followed by loud gulps until the bottle was empty. “Guess I was pretty thirsty.” He tugged up his loose pants and jogged out onto the baseball field. The fabric was loose and wrinkly, and he had to tug his pants up a little bit as they rode lower with every step.

For a brief moment, you worried a little bit about what sort of ramifications could occur because you’d accidentally used the entire vial; but once the game started, the panic drifted away from your mind and you began to enjoy yourself.

As the game progressed, you sat in the dug out, and Jason was on one of the bases.

Jason looked a little flushed and he grabbed at the back of his normally loose pants, his eyes widening at what he felt. 

From your vantage point, you could see exactly what had brought about such a reaction.

Jason’s usually loose pants now looked like they were painted on. The tight, white fabric was pressed against a butt that had seemed to magically grow out of nowhere. The jock who had been ridiculed frequently for being flat in the back now possessed a sizable bubblebutt that made him look like he was an avid cyclist.

“Wh-what the hell?” Jason wondered aloud as he glanced over his broad shoulder to examine the big butt attached to his lower back. It pressed out from his back a little more than what he would’ve liked, which was weird since he usually was embarrassed about his lack of a butt— but this one looked a little too big for his liking.

Then Jason’s new butt shuddered as the growth continued.

The jock freaked out as his butt grew out even further away from his back. It bubbled out farther and farther, rounding out as it grew. The new cheeks pressed against his pants that struggled to contain the new girth within them, seams starting to groan as they began to fail—

RRIIIPPP!

Jason’s pants finally gave way, his fleshy new mounds rippling out in the open for all to see. They grew so far out that they formed a nearly perfect shelf with Jason’s back, officially crossing the line into oversized territory. Now, the jock who had always lamented being flat in the back was bright red with humiliation as his enormous new bubblebutt hung out in the open for all to see. He knew deep down that none of his pants would ever fit over his rotund, massive butt.

Your bottom-heavy friend took an awkward step forward, his face going red as a tomato at how different his gait was. He could feel the meaty cheeks rolling over each other as he moved, and the cheeks rippled and bounced nonstop.

“Where’re you going?” the coach yelled out as Jason tried to waddle away. “We’re in the middle of a game!”

You and Jason were beyond confused over what had happened, but as you looked over the nonchalant crowd, you realized that no one, except for the two of you, could tell that Jason’s butt had managed to triple in size!

Still red in the face, Jason remained on the base, his big bubblebutt out in the open for all to see. And when he ran to home base, the mounds bounced and jiggled like crazy. When he returned to the dug out to where you were, Jason’s face was beet red with embarrassment. 

“Good job out there, Jason!” Coach said as he gave your bottom-heavy friend’s exposed rear a playful swat.

The cheeks jiggled and shook from the impact, and you could see the front of Jason’s tightened pants strain against his hardening cock.

He winced when he sat down next to you, feeling the meaty cheeks squish under him.

Now it seems as if your friend has a new problem: He can’t keep his pants up because his butt is way too big for them.