Loss Of Control - Tumblr Posts

Lost a lot of my stories when I deactivated my old blog, but I managed to find this one. It’s been one of my most popular, and the guy in the picture in super hot!

Caleb rested on the dock, trying to ignore the drunken antics of his so-called friends and past football teammates. The stud had reluctantly decided to go back home for a visit during break from college, irritated over his southern small town’s simple way of thinking and living.

The muscled up country boy had spent years at college trying to dispel the stereotype of the less than intelligent redneck, irked that many of the students who were from more metro areas automatically viewed him as inferior or stupid. That led to Caleb taking incredible joy in the surprised looks on their faces whenever he would “casually” drop into conversation that he had a full merit scholarship for the university’s computer engineering program. He’d even fought hard to hide his southern accent so that people wouldn’t make false comparisons between him and a hick. His 129 IQ was something he was extremely boastful about, and now as he was at the lake with some of his old friends he’d left behind, he was quickly realizing that he’d outgrown them.

“Hey man, why ya sittin’ here by yourself?” the old quarterback, BJ, asked him as he sat by him on the dock, playfully nudging his broad shoulder.

Caleb inwardly cringed at the pronounced southern accent that only grew more prominent the more beers the guy drank. He ignored it and shrugged. “I guess I’m just not that excited to be home,” he admitted. “I was thinking about heading back early.”

BJ mock frowned. “Pussy,” he teased, handing the annoyed man a beer. “Just drink up and you’ll feel a lot better.”

Caleb took the offered bottle that didn’t have a label because it was most likely bootlegged. He waited until BJ had wandered off to go be a nuisance elsewhere before rolling his eyes. Still, a beer was a beer.

Caleb took a deep gulp of the bitter drink, grimacing a little from the intense alcoholic aftertaste.

“Whoa doggy!” Caleb whistled loudly out of instinct, wincing at the backwoods phrase he’d unintentionally uttered. He cleared his throat and pulled his phone out to read up on some engineering articles so that he could maintain his number one position in class.

As the stud read some of the articles, he knitted his eyebrows together. Normally the genius could tear his way through countless scientific articles in an hour. However, for some reason, Caleb found himself struggling to concentrate. A thick fog seemed to be forming in his head, clouding his thinking and making it difficult to understand what he was reading.

“Ma-macheen— Machin… uh?” Caleb tried to sound out M-A-C-H-I-N-E-R-Y, struggling to figure out what the letters spelt out. In fact, all the letters on his phone screen didn’t make any sense at all.

BJ smirked over at his friend, enjoying the sight of the hunk scratching at his head absentminded as he stared intently at his phone. “Doin’ alright over there, Smart Guy?” he called out.

Caleb looked up from the confusing words on his screen, glancing over at his shirtless friend. “I can’t figure out none of these words on my dang ol’ phone!” he answered, his southern accent back into his voice full force, even stronger than when he’d left for university. He paused and thought that something sounded weird, that something was wrong. However the fog in his head thickened and all Caleb could seem to focus on was BJ’s thick, meaty pecs and the large bulge in his trunks.

One of the other guys began to laugh. “Damn, BJ, you gave it to him?” he called out.

Gave what to who? Caleb struggled to grasp what was happening, but it was getting so hard to think. His thoughts seemed to melt in his head, no matter how desperately he grasped at them. He would force himself to think of something in one of his lectures, like cir… circuit… uh, something. Caleb’s heart began to race in his beefy chest as he slowly began to piece together that something was indeed wrong.

He stood up and took a step forward before he got distracted by his reflection in the lake. The man who stared back had an empty, glazed look in his blue eyes and his jaw was hanging open. Then he got distracted by the way his own meaty pecs moved whenever he took a heavy step.

Caleb dimly giggled. “Hey y’all!” he called out in his country boy accent. “Check out mah tits!” He bounced his large pecs, laughing to himself as the large mounds bounced and jiggled in front of him.

The rest of his friends began to laugh at him, some even cheering him on.

Caleb didn’t know why his friends were laughing, but they seemed to really enjoy the way his pecs bounced, so he kept on giving them a show, a dim smile on his handsome face.

“Dude’s gotta be stupider than a flat tire,” one of his hick friends mocked him.

Stupid? Caleb wasn’t stupid, he was a genius. He was smarter than his bumpkin friends and they were all super jealous of it. He opened his mouth to offer a retort, spill some knowledge about what he’d learned in university, but he struggled to even remember sitting in a lecture at all.

The muscled dummy gasped loudly as he realized what was wrong.

“What’s up?” BJ patronizingly asked, wrapping a buff arm around his broad shoulders.

Caleb forced himself to look away from his friend’s muscles, which felt like a herculean feat. “Bro!” he whined, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “My head feels slower than a three-legged dog!” His accent was so exaggerated it was comical now, making him wince. “What’s wrong with me?”

BJ smirked as he rubbed a comforting hand over Caleb’s large pectorals, making the idiot whimper and shiver. “You poor dumb redneck,” he cooed. “We all got tired of you thinkin’ you were better than us all ‘cause you went to that fancy school.”

“I’m not some dumb redneck!” Caleb tried to argue, but when he stomped his foot again, his pecs bounced from the motion and he got distracted and started to squeeze them, moaning loudly for the other guys to hear.

“If I had to place a bet,” BJ smirked, “I’d say that 129 IQ of yours is probably down to 60. You’re good for nothin’ but fuckin’. You’ve got to be the dumbest redneck I ever did see.”

The fog continued to thicken in Caleb’s mind, and he was lost in the sensation of his strong hands fondling his own meaty pecs. It didn’t take long before the other guys joined in on the action, feeling up the stud’s muscles. All the while the redneck howled, happy to be back home with his fellow hicks.

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 

The Cursed Gym 4

Winston pulled up into the gym parking lot, finding a space that was right in front. The hunk was already shirtless and readied himself to take a selfie for his Instagram so that he could gain more followers. 

“Obligatory gym selfie,” the stud laughed to himself. He gave a sly grin and snapped a pic.

When he went to add a caption, the hunk paused when he saw himself in the picture pursing his lips instead of smiling like he was supposed to be. He deleted it and tried again, opting to forgo the smile and look serious instead.

Winston huffed when he looked at the picture and, again, he was pursing his lips. Only this time, they looked a little bigger, almost fuller even.

The stud shrugged his broad shoulders and thought that he must’ve left some kind of filter on when he caught sight of his reflection in the rearview mirror. Winston jerked back in shock as he saw himself pursing his lips seductively in the mirror, and even when he noticed, he couldn’t stop.

The stud was horrified that he couldn’t stop puckering his lips, and not only that, but they definitely were bigger and fuller.

“Like, OMG, what even happened to my lips?” Winston whined, exaggeratedly gasping loudly when he heard himself speak. “Like, what– *cough, what is even wrong with… why can’t I, like, talk normally?” No matter how many times he cleared his throat or focused, the hunk couldn’t shake his new valley girl dialect.

Winston was so caught up in what was happening that he barely registered when another guy walked by his car and caught sight of him, giving him a playful wink. “Those are some nice DSL’s ya got there,” he teased, sending an odd shiver down Winston’s spine.

His body acting on its own, Winston opened up the door. “Well, like, why don’t you try ‘em out,” he giggled, screaming at himself as he helplessly puckered his large lips at the other man.

Wish: A muscle mind control story where somebody grows more and more obedient to someone else as their muscles grow larger and larger

@Anon

– – –

Tyler was the star player on his college baseball team, instantly earning the admiration of his team mates and his coach. Speaking of, Coach Benson quickly had his eye on the stud, finding the nineteen year old’s body incredibly sexy when his uniform would cling to his sweaty muscles after practice.

It didn’t take long for Coach to approach Tyler after practice one day in the locker room. “Just wanted to say that you’re doin’ great out there, Son,” he said, clapping the young man’s broad shoulder. “But I think we should try putting more size on you.”

Tyler looked hesitant at first. “I dunno,” he admitted. “I don’t want to get too big.” He gestured down at his proportional physique that always got him plenty of girls to fuck. 

“It’ll help you keep that sports scholarship,” Coach countered, knowing that was his ace in the hole…

After that, Coach developed a personal workout plan specifically for Tyler which was designed to help the stud put on more mass. What was most critical was that he needed to listen to the playlist that he’d downloaded onto his phone, claiming that it would help the baseball star with staying motivated since he’d hired some nerds at the psych department to add some subliminal messages to it.

Tyler didn’t question it and did as he was told, frequenting the gym two, sometimes three, times a day. He spent most of his free time working out so that he could bulk up, all the while, his ear pods constantly on and playing that obscure music.

It didn’t long until Tyler started to show some results. His uniform fit a little more tightly as it struggled to contain his growing pecs and ass. He’d put on an eye-opening nine pounds of solid muscle in just two weeks, unable to stop flexing and showing off his progress to Coach Benson.

“Check it out, Coach!” Tyler said one day as he posed in the locker room mirror, completely nude with his hard cock bobbing in the air as he flexed. “I’m puttin’ on size just like you asked.” He leaned forward and formed a most muscular pose, feeling an odd sense of pride when the older man smiled and nodded at him.

“You sure are,” Coach whistled. “That’s a good boy.”

On cue, at the praise from the older man, Tyler’s muscles spasmed and he couldn’t hold back the loud moan as he came, his cum splattering all over the mirror. When he came to, the young man blushed like crazy.

“Don’t worry about that mess,” Coach teased him, walking forward and giving him a playful swat on his ass. “Why don’t you head to gym and do some more squats? Build up this rear of yours some more.”

Without even thinking, Tyler nodded. “Yes, Coach,” he automatically said, pausing for a moment to question why he was so eager to obey the man’s commands. He shook the weird feeling away and got dressed to head to the gym so that he could work on his glutes.

-__Two months later__-

“Did ya see that, Coach?” Tyler beamed as he followed behind the older man into his house where he stayed at now. “I didn’t let that tricky pitcher strike me out.”

As soon as he stepped foot inside the house, Tyler followed his conditioning and immediately began to strip naked. Thanks to his new workout regimen, he’d packed on over fifty pounds of muscle, with a majority of the focus on his pecs and ass, making him look like a curvy muscleslut. At the sight of the older man watching him, his seven inches instantly rocketed to attention and waved around in the air as he undressed.

“I sure did,” Coach grinned, loving the sight of the hunky college jock completely under his control. “I think you deserve a little treat, you did so well.”

Tyler couldn’t help the explosion of excitement that boomed in his large chest. “Really?!” he cheered, practically sprinting to the bedroom and assuming the position. He was on all fours, puffing out his muscled chest and sticking his rotund rear out invitingly.

For a brief moment, when he caught sight of his reflection in the bedroom mirror, an alarm bell rang out in his brain and told him that this was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be so eager to please his coach, he wasn’t supposed to be living with him and being his house pet, and his pecs and ass shouldn’t have been so disproportionately huge.

However, the second Coach sauntered into the bedroom and began to unbutton his polo, showing off a large swatch of his hairy pecs, the alarm was silenced and Tyler started to drool at the sight of the older man.

“Was I a good boy, Coach?” Tyler asked, playfully wagging his bubblebutt in the direction of the older man.

“You sure were,” Coach smirked as he ran an admiring hand over his jockpup’s ass, loving how it sent a shiver through the altered stud. “You’re Coach’s good boy.”

Pop!

“Damn it!” Mark hissed as the top few buttons of his shirt popped off. He sighed as he saw his pumped up pecs already shoving their way through the opening of his ruined shirt, and he shook his head in resignation.

“What is it?” his workout buddy, Jorge, asked, eying his top-heavy friend up and down.

Mark gestured down at his exposed, meaty pecs. “That’s the third shirt this week,” he huffed.

Jorge cocked his eyebrow at the other man. “Well, I mean, you have been doing nothing but Chest Day for the past few weeks,” he countered, thinking back to the last couple of times the two of them had ventured to the gym together. No matter what muscle group they were supposed to work on, Mark had always made his way to the chest-focused machines, working on growing his larger chest. It was odd since Mark had always focused on staying proportional and building his muscles in perfect sync. However, ever since that one day when some random nerdy-looking guy who wouldn’t stop checking out Mark had commented something about how Mark should do more Chest Days, it seemed as if chest was all Mark was able to do.

And Jorge would never tell his straight friend that he thought he looked so fucking hot with his large, meaty pecs completely warping his previously in-sync musculature. Mark’s muscled arms and legs still bulged the same, but they were nothing in comparison to the massive pillows that his pecs had become. What had used to be modest and chiseled pectorals had become huge, pumped mounds of muscle that jutted off the stud’s chest to form a shelf. The crevice between them had deepened significantly, and his nipples were forced to the point of sticking straight downward.

Jorge had to force himself to look away from his friend, getting hard at the sight of Mark struggling to squeeze his large pecs into his tank top.

Mark frowned again at his reflection, blushing at the way his cumbersome pectorals forced their way over the swoop of his tank top. They were in full view, making the shirt something more of a formality since it left nothing at all to the imagination, especially with his hard nipples poking around the small straps.

“Yeah…” the stud mumbled as he scratched his head, “I think I should focus on a different group today. These are getting too big for my taste. I’m already growing out of the new shirts I bought the other day.”

The two men were finished changing into their workout clothes and they headed out of the locker room, Mark having to walk with his back slightly arched to compensate for his heavy pecs, inadvertently shoving them out into the air as if to show them off. There was a slight bounce to them with every step the muscleman took, the humongous pecs demanding the attention of every other bodybuilder in the gym, making the stud’s face grow bright red with embarrassment.

Trying to distract his friend, Jorge piped up. “So, what do you wanna do today?” he asked. “How about Leg Day?”

Over near the treadmills, he could see that familiar nerdy guy looking over at them, his eyes honing in on the top-heavy Mark before grinning.

Mark pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, I was thinkin’ about doing chest,” he said before wincing and clearing his throat. “I mean, I think we should do Chest Day… er, I mean, I wanna work on growing my pecs.” Mark’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched as his body went rigid before walking over to the pec fly machine.

“Chest?” Jorge asked in disbelief. “Again?”

Regardless of how absurd doing chest for the thousandth time that month sounded, Mark still couldn’t stop his feet from walking towards the pec fly machine. His following friend was blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil the now top-heavy hunk was having. It was if his body was moving all on its own, without any control from Mark. Even when he’d said that he’d wanted to do Chest Day (again), he’d been horrified at how he’d been physically incapable of saying “Leg Day”. No matter how hard he’d tried to suggest a different muscle group, his tongue had seemed to have a life of its own, forcing the stud to say that he wanted to grow his already obscenely large pecs some more.

As the muscled hunk sat down on the bench and leaned back, he reached up and grabbed the handles of the machine, starting to perform heavy reps that made his massive pecs burn with power. 

Poor Mark was helpless as he did yet another Chest Day. He tried to call out to Jorge, who had simply shrugged and went to do legs, but his mouth refused to cooperate. The hunk gritted his teeth as he fought with all of his strength to stop working on his chest, but his body stayed put on the machine that was right in front of the mirror, showing the man how ridiculous he looked as he performed rep after rep. With each movement, his massive, inflated pecs spilled out of his tank top even more and bulged with power, completely engulfing his thick neck and making it look like the stud’s head rested directly atop the muscled mounds.

His heart raced in his bulging chest as his panicked eyes locked with the mischievous ones of the nerdy guy. Deep down he knew that it was impossible, but a voice in the back of his frenzied mind told him that the guy was somehow responsible. Mark thought back on the past few weeks of Chest Day, which had began ever since their chance encounter. He paled at the future image of himself going to the gym day after day, helpless to do anything but Chest Day— all the while his pecs would continue to grow larger and larger, looking ridiculous as they ballooned off his previously proportional body.

Eventually, Mark finished his workout, his pecs burning from the incredible pump they’d received.

“So,” Jorge began as he met back up with his friend in the locker room, drying himself off after his shower, “how was Chest Day?”

Mark kept his lips pursed in a thin line for a moment before sighing. “It was fine,” he relented, feeling defeated as he grabbed his t-shirt out of his locker. He struggled to slide the fabric over his huge chest, and when he had it on, he tried not to look at his reflection. Despite the t-shirt being two sizes larger than his usual size, his inflated pecs strained the thin fabric to bursting and his hard nipples poked noticeably against it. The collar had ripped slightly, showcasing the deep crevice of his chest. Due to the massive shelf his pecs had become, the bottom of the shirt was lifted above his belly button, looking more like a crop top.

“Well, maybe tomorrow we can do arms?” Jorge suggested, clapping the hunk on the shoulder.

“Sure…” Mark mumbled, wanting nothing more than to have his body be back in sync, but he knew deep down that tomorrow he’d be forced to do chest again, and his pecs would continue to pack on even more meat.

The top-heavy stud waddled out of the locker room and headed towards the exit, trying to ignore the looks his bouncing muscletits garnered. He passed by the nerd who smirked as he passed.

“Lookin’ good, Mark,” he smiled. “I told you that Chest Day would be a great focus for you. You have the biggest pecs of anyone in the gym!”

“Someone’s been working out their pecs a bit too much”

Find morphed pictures like these only for $1 and more on my Patreon.

Dylan O’Brien sat back in the leather chair, enjoying the cool A/C as he waited in the office for the producers to return. He’d been called in to talk about a role in a TV show, which sounded nice, but the actor was more into movie roles. However, his manager had convinced him to hear them out.

The door opened and the producer, a buff looking older man, sauntered back into the room. “Hello there, Mr. O’Brien,” he warmly smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, and please call me ‘Dylan’,” the actor blushed.

The produced nodded as he took a seat on the other side of the large, wooden desk. “Very well, Dylan,” he grinned. “So let’s cut to the chase: we want to reboot Teen Wolf, and we would really like you to reprise your role as Stiles.”

Dylan bit down on his lower lip and twiddled his thumbs in front of himself. “Yeah, that sounds interesting, but canonically I believe the character of Stiles would no longer be a teenager, so I don’t really see myself fitting in well…”

The producer cleared his throat. “Oh, I didn’t quite explain it very well,” he hurriedly said. “This is more of a spin-off than it is a reboot. We’ve been doing a lot of research into the fanbase and I’m sure you’re well aware of the ‘Sterek’ phenomena. The show will be a hit if we focus it on you and Mr. Hoechlin’s character, and how the two of you develop your werewolf-human relationship.”

Again, Dylan wasn’t convinced. “I know Tyler’s busy with other projects, and I don’t think that he would be too keen—”

“He’s already on board!” the producer interrupted.

Dylan jerked back. “Really?” he gasped. “But I thought Superman & Lois was doing well?”

The producer nodded and pressed a button on the desk. “It was, but we managed to convince him to join our project instead,” he explained, the sounds of approaching footsteps audible on the other side of the office door. “He was a little apprehensive about being typecasted as a werewolf, but now he can’t imagine anything but playing canine characters.”

Dylan thought that that was an odd phrase, but before he could say anything, the door opened up.

“There he is now!” the producer cheered. “Tyler, come see Dylan!” He clapped his hands, making the actor cock his eyebrow in wonder.

“Woof! Woof!” Tyler Hoechlin barked like a dog as he scampered into the room on all fours. The older man was completely naked, letting his bulky muscles flex for the two other men in the room to see. He’d even let his chest hair grow out, and his hairy ass wiggled to and fro like an excited dog. More surprising to Dylan was the large dildo that stuck out of Tyler’s ass, sticking straight in the air and wagging back and forth like a makeshift tail. Tyler’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and when his eyes landed on Dylan’s horrified face, he lit up and hurried over.

“Wha—?!” Dylan panicked, speechless at the sight before him. He’d worked with Tyler for years and never before had he ever seen the man behave in such a manner. It didn’t take him long to know that there was something else afoot, his heart starting to race wildly in his chest.

“Woof!” Tyler excitedly barked as he rested his arms on Dylan’s lap, leaning forward to lick his face like a happy little puppy.

“Aww, he missed you,” the producer cooed, taking in the sight as if a grown man with a dildo stuck in his ass and licking another man was a normal sight to see.

“What did you do to him?” Dylan cried out, pushing against the man’s buff, hairy chest, only earning a whimper. 

However, his panicked fingers accidentally brushed against a protruding nipple, making the man-dog shudder. His bulky muscles tensed up and he rolled over on the ground onto his back, his large cock hardening to its full impressive length of eight inches. He held his arms close to his sides as a dog does on its back, looking at Dylan and whimpering with want, his hard cock bobbing in the air.

“Mr. Hoechlin here originally tried to turn us down, saying that he wasn’t interested in playing a werewolf again,” the producer mused. “So we had one of our departments convince him that he was made to play wolves. Right, Tyler?”

At the sound of his name, the man-dog flipped back over onto all fours and happily barked. “Woof! Woof!” He then felt his canine urges and crawled back over to Dylan, propping himself up as he began to hump his leg, grinding his hard cock against the shocked actor.

Dylan was too shocked to stop the man-dog from humping him, turning instead to stare down the producer who relaxed behind the desk. “Turn him back!” he demanded.

“He already signed the contract,” the man shrugged. “He’s stuck like this, so if you really wanna be a good friend, you’d join in on the project. It seems he’s taken a real shine to you. Besides, this is an interesting dynamic we’d like to explore on the show.”

Before he could answer, Tyler tensed up. “Arrooooo!” he howled as he came, shooting his load all over the other man’s jeans. When he was spent, his tongue hung out of his mouth and he panted, staying put at Dylan’s feet.

Dylan didn’t know what to do. Tyler Hoechlin was one of his best friends, and seeing him hypnotized to act like a dog all the time was a horrifying fate. As he stared down at him, Tyler looked up and wagged his tail.

“Fine,” Dylan sighed. 

The producer smiled widely. “Great!” he cheered. “We’ll send you the script tomorrow. For now, why don’t the two of you bond? I mean after all, he is your dog now.” He handed the actor a leash and a black, studded collar.

Feeling as if he were dreaming, Dylan affixed the collar around Tyler’s neck and snapped the leash on. The man-dog immediately jumped up on all fours and barked wildly, bouncing around like a dog who was excited to go for a walk. When the two men left the office, Tyler kept pulling at the leash, nearly dragging the smaller Dylan behind him.  Dylan was trying to piece together all that had happened, unsure if he were dreaming or not. His previous coworker was acting like a dog, and he appeared to either have no control over it or the old Tyler was completely gone, replaced by this man-dog. Dylan tried to look deep into Tyler’s eyes for any indication that he was in there somewhere, but all he saw were the loving and admiring eyes of a puppy staring back up.

“Woof!” Tyler happily barked when the two of them exited the building, sticking his nose into the air to sniff the outside breeze.

“Shit!” Dylan hissed when he realized that he was walking a naked man with a dildo shoved in his ass outside in public for all to see. The sidewalk was full of people coming and going, and the two men were out in the open. Despite being the one in control of his body and being fully clothed, Dylan’s face was cherry red with embarrassment for his friend.

However, nobody seemed to look twice. Some people did a double-take, only to comment to their companion that they’d seen the actors from Teen Wolf, not even caring to mention that Tyler Hoechlin was naked and wagging a footlong dildo back and forth like it was a damn tail. Someone even walked too close to them, and Tyler responded by placing himself in front of Dylan, puffing out his hairy chest and growling, baring his teeth.

“No!” Dylan scolded, tugging on his leash. “Bad dog!” He winced at his words, but shook it off and led Tyler to his car. Tyler leapt into the passenger seat, positioning himself like a dog in the small seat. Dylan hurried into the driver’s seat and sped off, eager to get his friend out of view from prying eyes.

Tyler leaned over as he drove, nuzzling against the other man and licking his face again.

Needing to focus on the road, Dylan sighed and rolled down Tyler’s window, somehow knowing that Tyler would lean his head out like a dog. He looked over at his man-dog of a friend, vowing that he’d take care of him.

“Don’t worry Tyler,” he promised the man-dog, “it’ll be okay.” He moved pat him on the shoulder, and at the slightest touch, Tyler’s cock shot to life.

He couldn’t stop.

No matter how hard he tried to stop his workout, Brad Rowe was horrified to find his body moving on its own accord, performing rep after rep. He tried to call out for help, but his voice got stuck in his throat. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop his workout, and couldn’t stop the burning sensation deep in his powerful glutes.

He turned his head to try and signal to someone for help, his heart dropping when he spotted one of the new employees. He held a small, hand-stitched doll in his hands— a doll that was dressed in all black just like he was. The employee held his thumb over the doll’s mouth, all the while bending it and straightening it, making it look like the doll was performing the same exercise Brad was.

“Gonna help you build up that booty, Brad,” the employee mouthed to him. He momentarily let go of the doll’s mouth to fish in his pocket, pulling out a handful of cotton balls.

Before Brad could question what he was going to do, the employee began to shove the cotton balls inside the doll, padding its butt.

Brad felt his thighs stretch and could feel his massive ass enlarging, stretching his spandex pants to the limit. He looked over into one of the posing mirrors, his heart racing when he saw his normally-sized cheeks the size of overinflated soccer balls.

“Pl-please! Stop!” Brad begged when the seams of his pants started to burst, his growing ass peeking out of the fabric for the entire gym to see.

The employee simply chuckled and reached back into his pocket to grab even more cotton balls.  “We’ve just started,” he teased.

“Here you go, Sir,” the assistant said as he put on the finishing touches of the spray tan.

“Thank you,” Brad said, admiring the assistant’s work. “You really saved my ass. I have no idea what happened to my usual guy. He just wouldn’t pick up his phone for some reason.” 

It was the day of one of the big bodybuilding competitions, and Brad’s usual guy who spray tanned him to make his muscles pop was nowhere to be found. He was lucky that one of his competitors was friendly enough to recommend the current guy to him, not giving out much information but just telling him that he’d send him his way.

“Don’t thank me yet, Big Guy,” the man said, slapping Brad on his broad back, rather hard.

Brad stiffened, not wanting there to be any handprints on his tan. He quickly turned around and looked in the mirror, confused when he saw what looked like a long, black zipper running down the broad expanse of his wide back. “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“You’ll see,” the guy mysteriously said as his arm shot out at a rapid speed, yanking on the zipper to pull it downwards, effectively opening it.

Like the air had been punched out of him, Brad felt breathless for a brief moment and then felt as if his center of gravity was disturbed. His eyes widened in horror when he watched himself deflate like a balloon in the mirror, his body losing mass as it crumbled down onto the floor. He wasn’t able to move his body at all, and even if he had been, his back was so wide that there’d be no way he could reach the zipper and close it.

“What are you doing to me?!” he yelled, his voice getting muffled as he head began to deflate and flop over onto itself. The rest of his body collapsed in on itself until he was pile of freshly tanned skin lying on the hotel floor.

“Just wait and see,” the man taunted, stepping forward and grabbed a hold of the deflated Brad. 

Brad was shocked as he watched in the mirror as the man stepped inside the hole created by the zipper. He could feel him squirming around inside of him, fitting inside of his massive body as if it were a glove designed specifically for the unknown guy. He tried to yell, tried to fight back, but it was as if he were completely paralyzed and helpless to do anything at all that wasn’t the man’s will.

“There we are!” he heard his own voice cheerfully announce.

He winced internally as he watched his own body hold its massive, muscled arms out like it was showing itself off. He even did a three-sixty turn in front of the mirror, the man inside of him demonstrating that he had completely control over all of his actions. Apparently that control extended to his voice as well as he tried to cuss him out or even beg for his body back, but was unable to do anything expect watch and feel his own body move beyond his control.

“You know, once the other guys heard that Brad Rowe was competing, a lot of them thought that they’d lose considering how impressive your body is,” the man inside of him made him say out loud. He pulled his poser away from his body to check out his cock. “Really impressive actually.”

Brad mustered all of his inner strength to fight back, but it was useless. He couldn’t do anything with the man inhabiting his body as if he were a suit.

“But,” the man made him say, a devious gleam in his eye, “I doubt you’ll win the competition if you go on stage in front of all those judges and do this…” He saw himself turn around and bend over. Making sure to glance over his broad shoulder, Brad’s heart fell when he felt and saw his body yank down his poser to flash his tight hole to the mirror. “Maybe we’ll even finger ourself? I haven’t decided yet, it depends on how much I enjoy your body. Thanks for it by the way.”

Brad screamed internally, but was silent as the man forced a smile onto his face and made him strut out of the hotel room and towards the convention area where he knew he’d be humiliated in front of the entire crowd.

He passed by a fellow competitor in the hallway and winked at him.

“Hey, why don’t you swing by my room afterwards?” he heard himself ask. “You can feel how powerful my glutes are.”

@rainbowhypno

Request: Aaron bigoted over religious straight homophobic man harasses Brad for being gay. Which ends up being a big mistake. Brad turns Aaron into a proud gay musky slutty man and makes him his boyfriend. Aaron tries to fight the changes but loses the fight. Aaron remembers his old life, but he is reprogrammed to remembers his old life but he is reprogrammed to love the man he is now. A out and proud slutty gay man

★······★

Brad was heading to his dorm room after a rough day of seemingly endless lectures. All the slender guy wanted was to lie down and numb his aching head with some random cat videos.

Before he could reach his dorm, he was hit with the sickly stench of beer as a red solo cup was tossed at him. Drenched in beer, Brad huffed as he looked up and saw none other than Aaron.

The big, beefy jock was a pain in Brad's ass. For whatever reason, the jerk had made it his mission to make Brad's life as hard as possible. He was always there to pester him or even "playfully" shove him too hard, always muttering some sort of slur under his breath.

Aaron mock-frowned at the wet Brad. "Sorry 'bout that, Ma'am," he almost sneered. "I thought you looked thirsty, but I didn't have some fruity cocktail. Hope that works."

Normally, Brad would've just tried his best to shrug off Aaron's homophobic shenanigans. However, this time, he was prepared.

The skinny man reached into his pocket and grabbed a fistful of the pink, shimmery powder that he'd purchased from a mysterious woman the other night. Then, like a scene out of a cartoon, Brad tossed the powder into Aaron's face, smiling widely as the larger man winced as his face was covered in pink.

"What the hell was that?" the muscled jock sputtered as he wiped at his face.

"You'll find out soon enough," Brad lowly chuckled as he prepared himself to watch was was going to happen.

"What does that mean-- UUUhhhh!" Aaron's voice cut off as all of his muscles seemed to tense up. It looked as if the big jock was flexing, but soon his eyes widened when he felt the cool air on his torso. Looking downward, Aaron was surprised to see that his shirt was gone, exposing his plump pecs and washboard stomach. "Wha--?"

His voice trailed off when he witnessed his pecs shudder before it looked as if they were beginning to inflate. The jock's jaw dropped when he saw his pecs steadily grow larger and rounder. It wasn't an exaggerated growth, especially when the rest of his body followed suit. His muscles grew in size, taking his body from jock to bodybuilder in mere seconds. He paled when he saw his abs gradually grow fainter until they disappeared, his stomach rounding out to form a firm musclegut. His pants felt painfully tight as his butt swelled up, his cheeks going from perky to full on beach ball size. They grew so large that they began to push his jeans down, exposing the top of his hairy crack to the whole dormitory. As a final touch, Aaron's skin began to itch as hair started to sprout over his body, leaving him with copious amounts of body hair, with most of it concentrated on his pits and chest.

When he was done growing, Aaron had to have gained at least fifty pounds of muscle and had sprouted lots of hair. His large hands explored his larger, hairier body, blushing when he caught of a whiff of the pungent musk that seemed to radiate off of him in waves, almost as if he'd just finished an intense workout.

"Whoa," Aaron groaned in a much deeper voice, "what happened to me, Bro?" He flinched at the slowish quality to his voice and the way he'd said Bro unconsciously. "My head feels so slow."

Brad just smiled at his work, thinking that this new Aaron would be a much better guy than the old one. "You're the new you," he grinned.

"The new me...?" Aaron wondered aloud, freezing when his eyes landed on the smaller guy before him. His heart began to race in his beefier chest, and despite himself, he felt his cock start to stiffen. Worse was that he felt an odd emptiness forming deep within his ass, and he unconsciously flexed his huge bubblebutt with want.

No matter what his brain told him, Aaron was horrified to find that he viewed Brad as... cute!?

"Oh no," Aaron groaned, paling at this new realization, especially as new memories started to filter into his brain. He was still a college jock attending university on a football scholarship, but now he was also the muscled up and dim-witted boyfriend of Brad. He could see crystal clear mental images of himself wearing the skimpiest clothing and flexing for the small man on command, loving it whenever his huge ass was stuffed full with Brad's cock. And not only his, but their supposed relationship was flexible enough to where Brad was cool with Aaron getting fucked and sucking off every other guy on the football team. Apparently not a night went by when Aaron wasn't bouncing on cock after cock and showing off his large, hairy muscles to every guy on campus... but apparently he had a huge soft spot for Brad.

Brad basked in the warmth that this new Aaron brought him. He stepped forward and ran an admiring hand over Aaron's hairy pecs, loving the way the formerly straight jerk shuddered at the contact.

"Hey, Babe," he teased, "why don't we go to our dorm and I'll fuck that huge butt of yours?"

Aaron wanted to decline, to beg to be changed back, but instead he felt himself pick up the smaller man with one arm and flex his other one. "Hell yeah, Bro," he smiled dimly, "you're gonna fuck me so damn hard all night!"

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 05: Cursed Tape

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“Der!” Stiles voice rang out, dripping with jubilation. “Come see what I just scored!”

Derek grunted as he got out of his chair, feeling tired from his long day at the auto shop. Still, he shuffled down the hall, clad in only his white tank top and sweatpants, freezing when he saw Stiles beaming ear to ear and holding a large cardboard box.

Before he could even ask, Stiles rushed out, “I got a mystery box at the thrift store! Can you believe it?! How cool is that?”

“Mystery box?” Derek grunted, crossing his arms in front of himself as he cocked his eyebrow. “And how much did that cost?”

Stiles shrugged as he carried the box to the living room. “…um, about eighty dollars, give or take…”

Derek’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched.

Stiles obliviously set the large box down onto the floor before eagerly tearing into it, his large eyes alight with wonder over the “treasures” he’d scored for one-hundred thirty dollars. The big box was stuffed full of various items: scraps of fabric, old porcelain figurines, and some VHS tapes.

“We don’t even own a VCR,” Derek grunted, unamused. 

Among the pile that his husband was creating, Derek spotted an odd looking VHS tape. There was a gaudy neon background that looked like it was ripped straight of the 80s, with little captions indicating that it was a workout video of some kind. However, the weird part was that there was a blank outline of a person on the front instead of some obscure fitness guru. The title of the odd tape read out: Sweatin’ it to the 80’s! Starring _____!

“What the hell?” Derek scoffed as he picked up the tape to examine it some more— the second his fingers grazed the cover of the tape, Derek felt what seemed like a jolt of electricity ripple throughout him.

The werewolf jerked back, confused over what had just happened, yet he quickly realized that he was still holding onto the tape. Derek tried to relax his grip to let go of it, but his hand refused to listen, instead clutching onto the tape with all of its strength.

“Stupid tape…” he grumbled to himself, stopping once he saw something else start to happen.

Steadily, his white tank top began to change hue, turning from bleached white to a neon blue. As the straps thinned out, the collar dropped down low to his midsection, exposing his pecs to look more like a stringer. 

The changes didn’t stop there.

Stunned silent, Derek’s jaw dropped as he witnessed his toned pectorals shudder before pushing out as they gradually inflated. The previously proportional mounds plumped up and rounded, becoming an impressive set of muscletits that jutted off Derek’s chest noticeably. His altered tank did nothing at all to try to conceal them, the enlarged nipples poking out of the sides and demanding attention. His arms packed on more muscle, becoming large and bulging, especially his biceps which rivaled melons. Derek looked down, yet his massive pecs blocked his view of his sweatpants as they tightened against his legs, suctioning to his form to become a skintight pair of spandex that showed off every ridge of his carefully crafted musculature— that was prompt ruined as his legs grew in size, becoming larger. His butt ballooned out as it beefed up and pushed itself outwards. Derek’s eyes widened as he felt a sensation like he was getting harder. When he reached down and patted at his bulge, he almost gasped at the girth package that filled his hands. His cock and balls had inflated to the point where it looked like the larger stud was smuggling a softball in the front of his spandex pants.

When he was done changing, Derek had to have packed on at least fifty pounds of muscle, making him look like some over-the-top workout guru who belonged on the front of those cheesy exercise tapes.

Derek’s face stretched out to form a large grin, despite the panic that he was feeling. The living room shifted and Derek felt as if he were falling, the walls of the room stretching upwards. Derek’s sight rapidly shifted upwards, forcing him to stare straight up at the ceiling. He tried to look away or call out to Stiles for help, but he couldn’t move. All the shocked werewolf could do was smile and show off his hairy muscletits on the cover of Sweatin’ it to the 80’s! Starring Derek Hale!

Blissfully unaware of his husband’s transformation, Stiles finally finished rummaging through the mystery box. “See?” he smiled, standing upright. “There’s tons of cool stuff in here… Derek?”

Stiles looked around for Derek, pausing when his eyes landed on an obscure VHS tape that was on the floor. He walked over and picked it up, his eyebrows rising at the image of a muscled up Derek on the cover, smiling widely. His eyes looked panicked though.

“Derek!” Stiles gasped, clutching the tape close to him. “Don’t worry! I’ll figure something out!” He sprinted out of the house and to his Jeep…

About an hour later, Stiles returned home and set up the VCR in the living room. Once it was connected, he popped the cursed VHS in and pressed Play.

Synthpop blasted over the speakers, and bright neon colors flashed on the screen before a shocked Derek appeared on screen. He was still in his muscled up body, appearing to jog in place.

“Stiles?!” Derek called out on the TV, able to see his husband on the other side. He tried to stop himself from jogging, blushing at how the motion made his inflated pecs bounce up and down. “What the hell happened— Time to get that heart rate up!” His eyes widened at his last statement, having said it was such pep that he sounded like a cheerleader.

Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation.

“How am I supposed to know?” he cried. “How the hell did you get into the TV?”

Derek rolled his eyes as he stopped and started to do lunges. “It’s that damn mystery box of yours!” he accused. “I touched some weird tape and this happened!” He nodded down at his inflated form, wincing as he couldn’t stop working out.

He paused his lunges and started to bounce his pecs up and down.

“And one, and two…” He blushed, but he couldn’t stop the muscled mounds from lifting and slamming back down. Still, he was smiling widely and speaking with immense enthusiasm. “You gotta do lots of reps if you wanna get pecs as big as these!”

Derek couldn’t stop himself from working out and showing off his out of proportion body. The whole time he kept smiling, despite his eyes looking wide and disbelieving.

Stiles, unsure of what to do, figured that perhaps the best course of action was to let the video finish. Plus, he had to admit that Derek looked pretty hot with big, hairy pecs. “Um, maybe… maybe we should just let this play out?” he suggested.

Derek screamed on the inside, but could only place his hands on his hips. “Now that we’re all warmed up,” he beamed, “I’m gonna show y’all some glute blasters!”

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 11: Pup

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Derek wasn’t in control. He couldn’t help it.

The alpha werewolf had no clue what was happening, but the second he heard his husband, Stiles, walk in the front door after getting off from work, he felt a surge of excitement and utter jubilation. Of course Derek loved this husband and was always happy to see him, but this was to a new extreme— almost inhuman.

“I’m home!” Stiles called out.

At the sound of his husband’s voice, Derek’s heart raced and he dropped the TV remote and felt his body crash down to the floor on all fours. Before Derek could wonder what he was doing, he felt his limbs scamper out of the living room and towards the entryway. Inwardly, he panicked, unable to stop crawling on all fours or even stand up. Whenever he’d try to, he’d fall back down onto hands and knees, forced down like a dog.

The second his panicked eyes landed on Stiles, though, Derek’s trepidation vanished.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek cheerfully barked and he sprinted towards his husband. He rushed forward and managed to stand up on his feet— well, more like he leaned his top half against the smaller man, again, akin to how a dog jumps on their master. Unable to contain his joy at seeing the other man, Derek leaned forward and licked his husband’s face all over like a puppy.

“Derek, what are you…” Stiles trailed off, looking confused as the werewolf licked him. His eyebrows scrunched together, and his brain tried to tell him that something was wrong, that Derek was acting different. But as the excited mandog continued to give him kisses, he brushed the feeling away and couldn’t help but laugh.

At this sound, Derek couldn’t help but bellow out another, “Woof!” He blushed when he felt his bubblebutt jiggle a little as he wiggled his hips to and fro, almost as if he’d had a tail. Worse was that no matter how hard he tried to, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Okay, Derek, down,” Stiles laughed as he gently pushed against the eager man.

Derek put all fours back down again at the command, his blush deepening. He had no idea what was happening, but a part of him hoped that Stiles could figure out a way to help him. He opened his mouth to ask for help.

“Hrrmm, woof!” Derek barked, his eyes widening. “Woof! Woof!” His deep voice sounded the same, but no matter how hard he tried, Derek couldn’t put together a sentence. His words were reduced to barks and yips, making him let out a loud whimper.

Stiles hung up his coat and turned back to the crawling Derek. “Aww,” he frowned exaggeratedly, “what is it, Der? You want some pets?”

Inwardly, Derek bristled at the way his husband was talking to him, as if he were his pet. However, his body perked up and he wiggled his hips even more. “Woof!” he excitedly barked, so into it that his hands lifted off the ground with the movement.

Letting out a chuckle, Stiles leaned down and scratched behind Derek’s ear.

The feeling was incredible and Derek leaned further into it, barely noticing the way his leg shook. The sensation of Stiles’s hands on him was intoxicating, and his canine mind craved more.

Derek flopped over onto the floor and rolled over onto his back, his arms hanging out awkwardly in front of himself as he presented his hairy chest to Stiles. Derek looked up at the other man expectantly, despite inwardly screaming at himself to stop.

“Aww, good boy!” Stiles cooed as he gave Derek a belly rub.

Instantly, Derek felt his cock rocket to life, slipping out of his boxers and bobbing out in the air. He couldn’t believe that he was acting like a dog, getting a belly rub from his husband. But he couldn’t deny that he loved it. Something about the way Stiles’s hands ran over his body was purely orgasmic, and the werewolf craved more. Every hairy crevice of his muscled chest was felt up by Stiles, and when his fingers ran over his hard nipples, Derek was pushed over the edge.

“Arroooo!” he howled as he came, his cum shooting up into the air and landing all over his pecs. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, feeling as if he’d just blown the largest load of his life.

Stiles stood up. “Let me change and then we’ll go for walkies,” he said as he walked up the stairs.

Alone, Derek’s mind finally cleared enough for him to start to freak out over what was happening to him. Gritting his teeth, he tried with all of his strength to stand up or speak, but it was futile. Finally giving up on that, he crawled around the downstairs, shocked to see that the house had changed. There was now a dog bowl in the kitchen with DEREK printed on it in large, blocky letters. Unable to help himself, Derek crawled over to the water bowl next to it and lapped up some water noisily, splashing liquid all over the hardwood floor in the process. He leaned up, his face cherry red at his actions, but his thirst satisfied at least. 

Scampering into the living room, Derek winced at the large dog bed in the corner along with the rubber toy in the shape of a bone.

The mere second Derek’s eyes landed on the toy, his heart began to race and he couldn’t help but rush over and happily take the toy in his mouth. Whenever he tightened his jaw on it, it let out a loud squeak, further exciting the werewolf even more. He happily thrashed his head around, loving the squeaking from his chew toy.

“Ready?” Stiles asked, interrupting his play time as he walked down the stairs in more comfortable clothes.

Derek cocked his head to the side and dropped the toy from his mouth, humiliated beyond belief. He was used to be a boasting and powerful alpha, not some damn puppy! Still, as Stiles grabbed the leash off the rack, Derek scampered forward eagerly.

“Sit,” Stiles said as he held out the black, studded collar. There was a small sliver tag on it that read out: Derek, along with Stiles’s phone number.

Derek immediately sat like a dog and straightened his torso as best as he could. He puffed out his chest muscles with pride, loving the way Stiles looked over him. He was such a good guard dog— no, wait, he didn’t mean that.

Stiles put the collar on Derek and attached the leash, barely having time to open up the door before Derek excitedly bolted out. 

The smell of the fresh air and the sounds of the birds chirping was so much, and Derek couldn’t help but whip his head around to take in all the senses. He loved the bright colors of the cars that zoomed by, and he couldn’t help but preen at how Stiles walked in line with him. Derek’s tongue happily lolled out of his mouth as he walked.

The two of them came to an intersection, and without thinking, Derek sat down and looked upwards at Stiles.

Stiles looked left and right before nodding down at Derek, the werewolf standing back up on all fours and continuing their walk.

“Good boy, Derek!” Stiles cooed. “That’s a such a good boy for waiting to cross the street!”

“Woof! Woof!” Derek happily barked, loving how Stiles praised him. He was such a good boy, especially for Stiles.

“Hey there, Stiles!” a voice enthusiastically echoed out.

Stiles looked away from Derek and then smiled lazily at Theo, who walked towards the two men. “Oh, hi Theo,” Stiles said, in a less cheery voice. This one almost sounded distrustful. 

At the sound of Stiles’s change of tone and the approaching of the other man, Derek couldn’t swallow down the fierce protectiveness that bubbled up in his chest. He stomped forward and puffed out his chest as best as he could, steeling his arms to make his muscles look even bigger.

“Grrr!” Derek growled at the other man, making him stop in his place.

Stiles tightened his grip on the leash and kept Derek back, offering Theo a meek smile. “Sorry, Theo,” he huffed, “Derek’s not great with other people yet. I’m still getting him trained.”

Derek stopped growling, but kept his large werewolf fangs bared threateningly at the other man.

Theo held his hands up and shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, I know you’ll get him trained well soon,” he sighed. “You always said that you wanted a dog…” With that he turned around and walked off, but Derek could’ve sworn that he’d heard him mutter “…I must’ve messed up the spell…”

Stiles and Derek finished their walk, the whole time Derek loving the quality time with his husband. Derek had loved smelling all of the flowers in their neighbors’ yards, he'd enjoyed the way Mrs. Hall ad given him a pat on the head (it’d been nothing like Stiles’s head pats though), and he’d chased a squirrel much to Stiles’s annoyance.

When they returned home, Stiles fed Derek some food, which Derek happily gobbled up. He followed Stiles around the house as he did little chores here and there until it was nighttime. 

“Time for bed, Der,” Stiles yawned, stretching his arms over his head and he sauntered towards the bedroom. He hopped in the bed and lied down.

Derek followed him into the room and spun around a few times before lying down on the dog bed that was at the foot of his bed. There was a rawhide there from earlier, and Derek chomped down, gnawing it with his large teeth. He was so happy. He had the best master in the whole world, he got a belly rub earlier, and he got to have walkies.

It couldn’t get any better than this—

“It’s kinda cold,” Stiles shivered. “You want up, Der?” He patted the mattress.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek excitedly barked as he jumped up onto the bed and scurried over to his Stiles, licking his face lovingly. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Stiles laughed as he scratched behind Derek’s ear.

“Woof!” Derek happily barked, his wide and toothy smile dominating his face.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 13: Clown

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Derek practically whimpered like a wolf pup as he watched his husband, Stiles, slowly slump to the couch. The usually vibrant and cheerful human had been going through some hardships at work, and it’d really affected his mood; thus, the normally smiley and singsongy Stiles was all gray and sulky. The alpha werewolf frowned as he saw Stiles’s thin shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

On a normal day, Derek was the grumpy one, mad at the world and scowling at every living creature that dared to cross his path; and Stiles would be his anchor, calming him down with a simple kiss on the cheek or by placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. Now that the roles were evidently reversed, Derek was struggling to find out the right things to do/say, empathy never really being one of his strong suits.

“Babe?” Derek asked as he walked over to the couch and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he would’ve done had the roles been swapped. “Um… have you tried not thinking about it?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he rubbed at his temples, making Derek feel guilty.

Derek flinched and quickly tried to make things better. “Got a headache?” he asked, already dashing to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some Ibuprofen!”

As Derek leaned over the sink, images of his sad husband kept replaying in his mind, making him grimace. He felt guilty for not being able to cheer up Stiles like he would do for him whenever he was moody. He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless and, what was worse, was that whenever he felt like this, it was usually Stiles who convinced him of otherwise with a little corny joke.

Derek loved his husband with all of his heart, and it pained him to see Stiles sad. He missed his smile, he missed his laugh.

“Damn it,” Derek cursed under his breath, “I wish I could cheer him up.”

The second the words left his mouth, Derek felt a shudder ripple through him. The sensation morphed into an odd tingling that consumed his whole body before fading, but not before being reduced to a tickle that actually made Derek laugh.

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his normal throaty chuckle sounding more like a cartoonish wail that was comically deep. The werewolf jerked back and cleared his throat, wondering why he’d just laughed like that.

He shook it away and opened up the mirror cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen for Stiles, gasping when he saw his reflection after closing it.

His normally jet-black hair was green! Derek dropped the small pills in shock as he ran a shaky hand through his green hair, his eyes wide at the vibrant color that would without a doubt, draw a lot of attention his way. 

“What’s, *giggle, wrong with my hair— Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek laughed again. This time, he finally realized that he’d been smiling the entire time. Although he was confused and slightly panicked over what was happening to him, his face looked alight with zeal. His pearly whites were on full display, which brought about something new to him. Derek had always had larger front teeth, Stiles sometimes referring to them as Bunny Teeth, but his eyes widened when he saw them grow in size until they protruded over his bottom lip, effectively giving him over-exaggerated buck teeth.

Derek barely had time to react to his large teeth before he witnessed his nose shudder. Its skin reddened drastically until it looked cherry red, even taking on a shimmery sheen. It then steadily inflated, rounding out until Derek had a red clown nose affixed to his face.

“I look ridiculous!” Derek giggled, still grinning widely despite his inner panic.

The altered werewolf’s first thought was to rush to Stiles, knowing that his husband would figure out what was happening to him. Derek quickly hurried out of the bathroom, stumbling over his feet as he moved. Derek’s eyes widened even further when he witnessed his feet elongating past their usual size thirteen, growing comically huge with large stumpy toes capping them. 

With each step he took, Derek’s new feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floors and he struggled to maintain his balance. His gait resembled someone more clumsy, struggling to walk a straight line. He kept bouncing against the walls, knocking over pictures and causing a ruckus as he moved.

With a loud giggle, Derek waddled into the living room where Stiles moped. His husband took one look at him and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Der?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Instead of asking for help, Derek heard himself laugh, “Hyuck! Hyuck! I heard that there’s someone who’s a little down!” He cringed at how he was acting, this cheery clown attitude a direct contrast with his usual self.

Stiles just stared blankly ahead. “Huh?”

“Want a balloon?” Derek happily asked. “I got a real big one for you!”

With large, flailing motions, Derek searched all around his clothes. His busy show wouldn’t allow him to display his shock over the bright neon colors that his black clothes had been magically dyed to. Derek felt as if he were a passenger in his own body, hearing himself speak and feeling himself move, but he didn’t have any control. He was helpless as he behaved like some sugary sweet clown, unable to stop smiling and giggling the entire time.

When Derek couldn’t find a balloon, he frowned before perking up with an a-ha motion. Pursing his lips and whistling through his large buck teeth, he unzipped his now bright yellow pants and let them fall to the ground. 

He exaggeratedly gasped as he looked down at his soft cock, grabbing at his green hair. “Oh no!” he chirped. “You don’t want that small balloon!” 

He winced at calling himself small, but then flinched when he saw the corner of Stiles’s mouth slowly pull upward. Seeing Stiles doing so sent a fluttering feeling through Derek’s chest, and he started to feel a little excited, his panic steadily fading.

Derek felt himself stick his thumb in his mouth and take in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He then puffed out his cheeks and acting like he was blowing air into himself, pausing every so often to take a deep breath.

Stiles let out a little chuckle.

Derek felt himself perk up, his cock instantly rocketing to attention. It swelled up and stood out in front of him. Derek dropped his thumb from his mouth and gestured towards his hard cock.

“Ta-da!” he cheered, puffing his chest back out and setting his hands onto his hips proudly as he pushed his hips forward so that his rock hard member was closer to his husband.

Finally, Stiles’s face broke out into a loud smile and he started to laugh.

At seeing his husband finally laughing and being able to see his beautiful smile again, Derek’s cock throbbed and began to leak precum. His own smile was back in full force.

“Oh, thank you, Der,” Stiles cooed as he sat up and gave his husband a big hug. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his face blushing wildly as Stiles kissed his cheek lovingly. Seeing the love of his life smiling again, Derek figured that as long as it made his husband happy, he was fine with being a werewolf clown.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 15: Caveman

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Derek wasn’t proud to admit it, but he had a little bit of a jealous side.

Nothing brought out the green-eyed monster more than watching some guy try to flirt with Stiles, or even hearing Stiles comment on how hot he thought a certain actor was. The other day, Stiles was talking to Lydia, and he’d mentioned how he’d thought that the new Superman actor was cute. Derek had to swallow down a growl, and he’d not-so-subtly changed into his Superman t-shirt afterwards.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind too much, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He’d usually just laugh it off and give his husband a big hug, trying to calm him down.

This all came to a culmination when the water heater when out. 

“Der, I had to call a plumber to come fix the water heater,” Stiles told the werewolf. “He said he should be here soon.”

Derek just grunted from his spot on the sofa. He mindlessly munched on beef jerky as he watched TV, clad in just his sweatpants. He was so caught up in watching Alexander Skarsgård swinging through the jungle as Tarzan, that he’d barely heard the doorbell ring. 

“I’ll get it!” Stiles called out as he hurried over to the front door, swinging it wide open. 

“Hello, Mr. Hale,” a deep voice bellowed out, making Derek perk up, “I’m Chase, I’m here to fix your water heater.”

“Oh yes!” Stiles breathed, sounding relieved. “Come in, please.”

Derek turned around to stare down the other man who entered his house, frowning at the muscular stud who followed behind Stiles. The alpha werewolf couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in the direction of the plumber who wore a blue uniform. The young man was so built and muscular that he left the top three buttons of his shirt undone, showing off his impressive hairy pecs. His sleeves were rolled up, allowing his bowling ball sized biceps to curl out of them. In front of his tight jeans was a large bulge that made it look like the young man was smuggling a grapefruit in his pants. And when the plumber walked, his firm butt pressed tantalizingly against his jeans which were so tight that they rode a little low, giving credence to the term “Plumber’s Crack”. His dirty blond hair was combed in that style that made it look slightly messy, but sill manageable, and his lantern jaw was covered in masculine stubble. The dude seriously looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a porno.

Immediately, jealousy surged though Derek and he felt himself leap off the couch and hurry over towards Stiles, wrapping a possessive arm around his waist. He puffed out his own sizable pecs and forced a smile on his face. “Yes,” Derek almost growled, his voice rougher than intended, “please come into our home.”

Stiles shot him a look.

Chase only smirked as he entered the home, his heavy footsteps thudding loudly as he followed behind the couple.

“The water heater’s in the basement,” Stiles babbled on. “It went out last night and the water’s been ice cold ever since. You’re a real lifesaver for coming on such short notice.”

“It’s all part of the job,” Chase said, giving Stiles a crooked grin.

Derek bit down on his lower lip to hold back his snarl. “I could’ve fixed it,” he added hurriedly, “but I have a lot on plate since I run my own auto shop. So you know, management is very time-consuming work that only tough guys can do.”

“Wh-what?” Stiles wondered aloud.

Chase shrugged it off. “Sure,” he coughed. “A lot of wives tend to call me when their husbands can’t fix a simple appliance. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

Derek saw red and his fists shook with rage. He had to take a few deep breaths to prevent himself from phasing on the spot and mauling the cocky plumber… when a devious plan entered his head.

“It’s, uh, kinda hot down here,” he stated, forcing a toothy grin onto his face, “why don’t I get us some drinks.”

“I can get them,” Stiles offered.

“No!” Derek hurried, as he practically sprinted back up the basement stairs towards the kitchen. The werewolf tore through the cabinets as he grabbed three cups, making sure to grab Stiles’s favorite Superman glass. He then snatched the jug of Crystal Light out of the fridge before grabbing the secret ingredient from under the sink.

Derek couldn’t help but smile maniacally at the translucent powder that possessed a pink shimmer to it. It was a magical powder that Peter had made, claiming that it would cause “Embarrassing Side Affects that varied from person to person”. Derek had no clue exactly what that entailed, but he figured that annoying, sexy Chase would be the perfect tester to try it out.

The jealous werewolf made sure to pour Stiles’s glass first, setting it far away on the counter so that it wouldn’t come into accidental contact with the powder. That left two unmarked cups, and in his haste, Derek filled them both to the brim with the red Crystal Light. He then dumped a large spoonful of the mysterious powder into one of the glasses, marveling as it immediately dissolved, leaving zero trace of its presence behind. The giddy werewolf was so caught up in imagining all of the humiliating scenarios that played in his head involving Chase, that he put the jug of Crystal Light back into the fridge without memorizing which glass he’d spiked with the powder.

Derek froze as he stared at the two unmarked glasses on the counter, both of hem equally filled up with red juice. 

“Damn it,” he snarled, making move to dump them both down the sink to try again, but then something caught his ears.

The werewolf bristled as he heard Stiles’s laughter echo out from the basement, the deep bellowing of Chase’s annoying voice trailing behind.

With a ferocious growl, Derek dumped a spoonful of the powder into each of the unmarked glasses. He grabbed all three of them and raced back down the stairs, eager to break up the laughing session between the stupid plumber and his husband.

“H-hey, what’s so funny?” Derek asked, forcing a cheerful smile onto his face as he walked down the basement stairs. Despite his grin, his eyes narrowed in Chase’s direction. He walked up to Stiles and handed him the Superman glass that wasn’t spiked with the embarrassing potion.

“Chase here went to Beacon Hills High, too!” Stiles exclaimed. “I knew he looked familiar. We were in the same Spanish class.” He looked over towards the plumber. “You’ve put on some serious muscle.”

Chase held his head up high as he flexed a large bicep. “Yeah, I’ve been getting into bodybuilding,” he grunted. “You should check out my Instagram. I post tons of progress photos there.”

Over my dead body, Derek wanted to say, but instead he held out a glass for Chase. “Here,” he forcefully smiled, “I hope you like Crystal Light.”

“Thanks,” Chase obliviously said, accepting the glass and bringing it up to his full lips. He paused for a second, eying the water heater in the corner of the basement. “Oh, I can see a leak from here.”

“A leak?!” Stiles repeated incredulously, rushing forward to inspect the large machine as best as he could. “Where?”

Chase lumbered towards him, positioning himself way too close for Derek’s liking. “There,” he said, pointing towards a small spray of water.

For the millionth time, Derek was seeing red, beyond irritated that the muscleman was getting close and personal to his husband. In his anger, he briefly forgot that he was supposed to wait for Chase to take the first sip of his drink, and brought the glass up to his own lips to take a large gulp of the sweet juice.

Instantaneously, Derek’s eyes widened when he’d realized his mistake, quickly placing the half-emptied glass onto a nearby fixture. His heart raced in his chest as he waited for something to happen, holding his breath as he prepared for the worst.

“Damn,” Stiles frowned as he examined the leak, “do you see this, Derek?”

“Derek see,” Derek bellowed, his voice sounding much deeper and guttural than normal, making the werewolf flinch in shock. He had no idea why he’d referred to himself in the third person, so he cleared his throat and tried a second time. “Ook!”

Stiles only chuckled, his back still turned to Derek, thinking that his husband was just trying to be cute.

Meanwhile, Derek’s panic grew when he felt himself beginning to itch. He looked down at his chest and gasped as he watched wisps of black hair sprout all over his toned pectorals. The naturally smooth werewolf was stunned silent as he watched his hair thicken, and not just over his chest. He held his shaky hands up in front of his face, paling as hair grew over his arms, traveling towards his wrists and even his knuckles.

Derek felt his center of gravity rapidly shift, and he stumbled on his feet, falling over. He managed to catch himself before hitting the hard ground. Yet, he noticed that he was perched using his knuckles for support, reminding him of those lumbering gorillas he’d seen on TV. He tried to stand up straight on his two legs, but he could make it about halfway before toppling back down on all fours like an ape.

As a final touch, Derek nearly went cross eyed as he watched the bulge in his sweatpants steadily grow larger. The bulge inflated as it grew, causing his enlarged cock to stiffen and snake down his pant leg, looking ridiculously big on his toned, hairy form.

His heart raced in his hairy chest as Derek realized that he’d turned into some sort of monkey man. “Derek feel funny,” he muttered in his deeper voice, bristling at the awkward way he spoke. His thoughts were still coherent, but he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate with what he wanted to say.

“Huh?” Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder before gasping at his hunched over, hairy husband. “Derek?! What the hell happened?!”

“Ook! Ook!” Derek bellowed, jumping up and down in his crouched position. His blush deepened when Stiles walked up to him, standing tall above his hunched over body.

Chase only glanced over this broad shoulder before shrugging and continuing to examine the water heater.

At the sight of Chase’s glare, Derek felt his possessive side spark once more. However, instead of silently brooding, the werewolf felt himself puff out his hairy chest. His muscles tensed, he beat at his chest with both of his meaty fists, mimicking a large gorilla. Again, he internally winced at his uncontrollable actions, but he couldn’t help it. Derek could only bare his teeth as he beat his chest intimidatingly.

Stiles’s eyebrows lowered slowly as he put the pieces together gradually. “Ohhh,” he hummed, eying the glass of Crystal Light.

Derek stopped beating his chest and cheekily smiled up at his husband. “Ook!” he grunted, nuzzling against the other man’s leg in an attempt at an apology.

Stiles snickered a little bit. “You’re silly, Derek, you know that right?” he chuckled as he ran his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“Ook! Ook!” Derek happily cheered as he bounced in place, his hard cock bobbing up and down wildly in his sweats. It wasn’t his intention to turn himself into some feral caveman, but he couldn’t deny that he liked how Stiles was paying much more attention to him now than he was to Chase.

“Your husband’s weird,” Chase muttered, rolling his eyes at Derek, who only beat his chest in uncontrollable response. The muscled plumber finally brought the glass of red Crystal Light up to his lips, taking a loud gulp.

“Ook!” Derek grunted as he watched the changes happen automatically.

Chase must not have felt anything, but as he drank down the cursed drink, Derek and Stiles stared in awe as the large bulge in front of his pants shuddered before growing less prominent. The previous mound that had looked like a grapefruit grew smaller and smaller by the second until the front of Chase’s jeans were flat and unremarkable.

When the glass was empty, Chase lowered it and wiped his lips. “This tastes kinda funny,” he said, freezing up in fear at the sound of his voice. His usual deep baritone was gone, replaced with a cartoonish voice that was hilariously high-pitched and squeaky, sounding just like a chipmunk’s.

Stiles had to cover his mouth to keep from bursting into hysterics.

“Oook! Ook!” Derek bellowed, happily slamming his fists down onto the ground in victory. He couldn’t hide the dim smile that stretched out his face, and he puffed out his hairier chest with pride.

Chase blushed a little and cleared his throat. “Um, *ahem, what I meant to say, *ahem, what’s wrong with my voice?!” The muscle man clutched at his throat, his face burning red at the sound of his cartoonish voice.

Stiles, unable to contain himself, broke down and doubled over with laughter. “That’s not it!” he guffawed, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of the squeaky-voice muscleman.

“What do you mean?” Chase squeaked, stomping his foot in irritation, his voice making it sound more like he was throwing a tantrum than trying to be threatening.

“Tiny!” Derek managed to say, bouncing up and down excitedly on his feet and fists, like a chimp at the zoo.

“‘Tiny’?” Chase repeated, still blushing over the sound of his new voice. His eyes followed the direction of Derek’s stare. He gasped when he saw the flat front of his jeans and immediately unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down. The pathetic two inch nub looked completely out of place on Chase’s muscled frame. It was so small and puny that it was barely noticeable in his trimmed bush.

Chase screamed, his voice sounding even higher than before. He yanked his pants up and ran up the stairs in a hurry, exiting the house in a panic.

Stiles continued to laugh for a few more minutes before he was able to slightly contain himself. “That, haha, wasn’t nice Derek,” he tried to frown, but his chuckling ruined the mood he was trying to portray.

Still, Derek hung his head in shame. “Derek sorry,” he muttered in his slow voice.

Stiles smiled down at his husband and ran an admiring hand through his thick hair. “It’s okay, I guess,” he hummed. “You don’t have to be so jealous, Sourwolf. I love you.”

At this, Derek felt himself perk up, his lengthened cock rocketing to attention. The caveman werewolf beat his hairy chest with pride, a wide smile on his dim face. He then reached over and tossed Stiles over his shoulder, carrying him upstairs towards their bedroom as he readied to show his husband just what a wild man he now was.

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.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 23: Ghost Possession

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Despite being a werewolf, Derek didn’t believe in ghosts. In his opinion, they were the cheap product of Hollywood trying to advertise uncreative horror films. He would scoff at the young adults who’d dared one another to sneak into McFadden Manor, only to hear them swear up and down that they’d seen a ghost. Lies, Derek figured.

Still, when Stiles had made up his mind to investigate the ghost stories surrounding McFadden Manor for Halloween, Derek had instantly jumped at the chance to tag along in an attempt to look brave and woo the hyperactive human. 

Unfortunately, Derek couldn’t hide the grimace as he walked through the deserted McFadden Manor. The abandoned mansion was the center of numerous spooky, Halloween-themed tales— all of them focusing on a mischievous trio of ghosts who liked to mess with unsuspecting people. The wide smile on Stiles’s face deeply contrasted with Derek’s scowl.

He eagerly held up an ancient-looking camera. “We should split up and cover more ground,” he said. “I’ll go down towards the garden while you inspect the bedrooms. Radio me if you see anything.” He shoved a large, dinosaur era walkie talkie towards the werewolf.

“I can just text you…” Derek muttered, studying the heavy tech in his hands.

“Thanks for coming with me again, Der,” Stiles said, offering the usually grumpy werewolf a sincere smile, making the alpha’s heart flutter in his chest.

In response, Derek puffed out his muscular chest with pride, his pecs pressing teasingly against his thin, white t-shirt. “S’no problem,” he grunted, trying to play it cool, but he could feel his cheeks grow hot as he blushed. Plus, he couldn’t help but crunch his stomach to make his abs pop against his shirt too, his muscular bod being his best form of flirting since he wasn’t really good at wooing orally.

Stiles happily ran down one of the dark hallways towards his destination, Derek not-so-subtly watching his perky butt as it disappeared.

“Damn,” Derek admired before frowning at the sight of the decrepit mansion. “Damn it.”

Frowning again, he shrugged his broad shoulders and lumbered throughout the dark, cobweb-filled halls. To humor himself, Derek sniffed at the air, smelling nothing in the air except for dust and rats. He rolled his eyes at himself participating in this foolish activity, yet, he forced himself to focus on the endgame: Stiles and him getting together… and then heatedly fucking in his Camaro.

That last thought put a little more pep in Derek’s steps as he explored the empty rooms in the mansion.

*Thud!

Derek tensed up at the sound that echoed out from one of the bedrooms. Following the source, Derek entered a room near the end of the hallway. The room turned out to be a bathroom, the rusty toilet giving it away. There was a dust-covered sink with a dirty mirror near the entryway, and in the far end was a standing tub with a yellow curtain closed over it.

Derek cocked his eyebrow in confusion over the fact that the water seemed to be running in the tub, steam even billowing out from the curtain.

“What the hell?” Derek wondered aloud, knowing that there was no way this house was occupied given its dilapidated state. Still, the running water left the werewolf deeply confused. He grabbed the edge of the shower curtain and ripped it to the side.

Inside of the tub was a portly bluish figure that was slightly transparent. Looking like a caricature ripped out of a cartoon, the ghost had a little tail that seemingly phased in and out of existence as the creature showered. When it noticed that it was being watched, the ghostly figure looked over at Derek and gasped, covering its lower half with its hands… despite there being really nothing to see.

“Do you mind?” the ghost scoffed.

Derek was stunned silent for a moment, his eyes wide as he stared at an actual ghost that was floating before him. “Holy shit,” he finally breathed. “You’re a fuckin’ ghost!”

The ghost exaggeratedly rolled its eyes at Derek. “No shit,” it huffed in a baritone-filled voice that only emphasized its rotund girth. A sly grin formed on its translucent face and its eyes sparkled. “You know, most fleshies tend to avoid this place because of me and my brothers, but here you are.” He sniffed at the air, his smile growing wider. “A werewolf?”

Derek flinched and took a cautious step back.

The ghost continued. “We don’t get a lot of your kind here,” he chuckled. “Your bodies tend to be a little more sturdy. This should be fun!”

The ghost lurched forward at lightening speed, much faster than Derek’s werewolf instincts could react. Since his jaw was still hanging low in shock, the ghost aimed right for the alpha’s agape mouth. 

Derek felt his mouth being stretched to the limit as the ghost squeezed himself inside of him. It was a difficult sensation to describe. Thanks to the ghost’s vapor-like body, it felt as if there was a gust of air that was keeping Derek’s jaw thrusted down as it shoved itself in. Cartoonish stretching noises, like rubber, sounded out as the ghost entered the werewolf. Derek felt himself getting fuller and fuller, feeling as if he’d just eaten a multi-course meal and was stuffed to the brim.

With a simple pop, the ghost finished his entrance and successfully squeezed his rotund body deep inside of Derek.

The werewolf felt full, his stomach and even lower end of his throat feeling as if there was a thick soup trapped in it. Derek stumbled around on shaky feet, trying to piece together what had just happened. The ghost squirmed a little as he settled in under Derek’s skin, the werewolf wincing at the sensation. 

“Damn, I can’t believe that worked!” Derek heard himself exclaim. “I usually have trouble fitting inside tiny bodies.”

Tiny? Derek balked.

Derek’s tingling limbs appeared out of his control, and the more Derek tried his best to strain and walk on his own accord, the more horrified the werewolf grew as it dawned on him that he wasn’t in control of his body. He even attempted to open up his mouth and demand that the ghost leave his body, but he couldn’t even do that— instead, Derek was more so a passenger inside of his own body. He could still experience every sense, smelling and feeling everything around himself, but he couldn’t move or speak on his own.

He felt his legs propel him forward, turning around to look into the mirror. Derek bristled at his own reflection which only smiled back at him, his smile eerily similar to that of the ghost’s.

What the fuck are you doing to me?! Derek roared on the inside. Get the fuck out!

The ghost only shook Derek’s head mockingly. “No way,” he said, making Derek’s body and voice say it on his behalf. “I kinda miss having a body so I’m gonna hang onto yours for a bit. The name’s Fatso, by the way.”

That’s a stupid name.

The ghost shrugged. “And this is a stupid body,” he countered, exploring Derek’s body, running his hands over it. Derek could feel every touch, unable to stop feeling himself up. “There’s barely any room inside of here. Let’s fix that.”

Derek screamed on the inside as he witnessed his stomach shudder before it expanded outwards. His gut grew in size and it rounded out as Fatso forced it to bubble out. Derek’s chiseled abs disappeared as a thick layer of fat appeared over them, going from firm to large and jiggly. It grew bigger and bigger, becoming huge and bulbous as it jutted far out in front of Derek, looking as if he’d swallowed a yoga ball instead of a ghost. To add to the inflation, even Derek’s pecs packed on some fat. They lost some of their tone as they grew larger and saggier, resting atop his enormous belly. There was still some traces of Derek’s large muscles underneath his new girth, but instead of looking like he lived in a gym, he looked more like some ex-jock who was in the middle of a perpetual bulking phase.

What the fuck did you do to me?! Derek roared on the inside, wincing as he examined his new body in the mirror. He must’ve gained well over fifty pounds, with most of it centered on his new gut. His mysterious growth had torn his t-shirt to shreds, forcing him to see all of his girth at once. Despite looking hard and solid, Derek winced at the way his gut hung over his jeans, sagging slightly.

Fatso mock-frowned. “Don’t be like that,” he taunted, putting both of his hands on the sides of Derek’s new belly and giving it a playful shake, causing it to bounce wildly. “I think you look much better with some more meat on our bones. Now there’s some food in the kitchen that we can eat.”

Eat? You mean you want me to get even fatter? Derek protested, unable to prevent his body from waddling out of the bathroom and down the hallway. His thicker thighs rolled over one another as he moved, and his rotund belly stuck so far out in front of himself that he couldn’t even see his feet. He inwardly flinched every time his foot thudded against the hardwood floor, sending a ripple through his belly and pecs.

Fatso forced Derek into the kitchen, where he made him lumber towards the fridge. Derek was surprised that when it opened, it was stocked full of food that looked like it’d just been bought earlier that day as opposed to sitting for years untouched.

Derek felt his arms lurch forward, grabbing fistfuls of various treats and snacks. 

“The only downside to being a ghost is that you can’t eat a lot of food,” Fatso lamented. “But the good thing about possessing a werewolf fleshie is that you can gorge on tons and tons of junk food. Much, much more than a human can!”

No! Wait! Derek pleaded.

His pleas fell on deaf ears as Fatso eagerly shoved loads of food into Derek’s mouth, moaning loudly as he tasted all sorts of flavors. Salty, sweet, savory— all kinds of different foods were shoved down Derek’s eager throat, none of them low-calorie.

The entire time, the werewolf inwardly begged Fatso to stop gorging on so much junk food. However, the ghost was paying no attention to him, moaning loudly as he devoured everything in the fridge.

In the center of the fridge was a delicious looking, three-tiered cake with bright pink frosting. Derek could feel his mouth salivating as his eyes honed in on the monstrous dessert. 

Before Derek could uselessly plead with Fatso again, his hands grabbed at the cake as he greedily gobbled it down. All he could taste was the sugary frosting and the chocolate center of the cake, grimacing at the sweetness, yet Fatso loved it.

Derek inwardly froze when he felt something horrible: his pants felt like they were getting tighter.

It was hard to tell since Fatso controlled his line of sight, but Derek could barely make out his gut growing more and more into his field of vision. It didn’t take long for the werewolf to put two and two together to figure out that, thanks to Fatso’s overeating, he was getting even bigger.

His big belly was starting to jut even further away from his torso as it packed on even more size from the delectable cake. His pecs felt heavier as they grew in size, his nipples even stretching out from the sheer expanse of his enlarged chest. Love handles formed and drooped slightly over the edges of Derek’s pants, which felt painfully tight by now.

Pop!

The button on Derek’s pants finally gave out, ricocheting off and landing on the floor. Derek felt a sense of relief as he continued to fill out, his ass puffing out as his cheeks ballooned out and became large and squishy. To account for his larger rear, Derek could even feel his thighs starting to push closer together as they blew up. As Fatso continued to eat, Derek’s body went from bulky to chunky linebacker status, looking incredibly large as if two of him were shoved together into one body.

Fatso fit the last few bits of the cake into his mouth, swallowing it down loudly and straightening back up. He patted his large gut, satisfied, before letting out a loud burp.

“I always gotta get a big cake before every Halloween thanks to silly guys like you who want to come play detective,” he smiled, rubbing his hand up and down his distended belly. “This was nice. See ya next year?”

Derek let out another loud belch, this one accompanied by a flash of blue as Fatso left his body to fly somewhere else in the manor.

Finally in control of his body, Derek gasped loudly as he ran his shaky hands all over his enlarged form. For some strange reason, even with Fatso gone, Derek was left with his added weight, looking massive and round. He took an awkward step forward, blushing as his entire body seemed to jiggle. He couldn’t see anything past his large belly which definitely wouldn’t fit in any of his clothes anymore.

“Damn it,” Derek huffed, giving his gut a tentative poke. “I have to do so many crunches to get this down to size…” He trailed off when his stomach growled, a deep hunger taking over him.

“Hey, Der,” Stiles called out, his footsteps approaching, “still no sign of any ghosts. I’m starting to think that they’re just stories.” Stiles froze when he reached the kitchen, his eyes nearly falling out of his head at the sight of the fatter Derek.

“Um,” Derek blushed, scratching the back of his head nervously, “I think I found a ghost—” He paused when Stiles stepped forward and placed a soft hand on his rotund belly, rubbing it up and down.

A smile forming on his face, Stiles couldn’t help but look up at the large werewolf. “Do you like belly rubs?” he asked, playfully rubbing Derek’s gut.

Although he couldn’t see it thanks to his big gut blocking his view, Derek could feel his cock rocket to attention, already oozing as Stiles gave him a belly rub. “Y-yeah,” he breathed. He blushed again as his stomach growled a second time.

“Big boy’s hungry?” Stiles teased.

Derek just eagerly nodded, looking forward to eating cake and getting more belly rubs from Stiles. 

All in all, it turned out to be the best Halloween of Derek’s life.

I’ve always wanted to be a big bodybuilder/gay porn star like Zeb Atlas. Do you think that you could turn me into him or someone big like him? 💪🍆

Definitely! I think that's a great choice.

Imagine you wake one day and are mega surprised to see that your former body had been replaced by a muscled up one resembling Zeb Atlas. Your muscles bulged with masculine power and there was even a dusting of manly hair over your new musculature.

It was amazing and you admired your new sexy form in the mirror for a while until something happened...

As if it had a mind of its own, your new body started to move on its own.

Your legs propelled you out of your place and to your car, where it began to drive you off somewhere. At first, you were panicking a little bit as you had no control of your new body, as if you were just a passenger.

You drove up to a random gay bar, and then got out of the car and entered.

As soon as you walked in, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. The music playing over the speakers was hypnotic and before you knew it, you were swaying your hips to the beat.

Your hands, moving on their own, began to peel out of your clothes, exposing your new muscles for the whole crowd to see and feel up. They ran their hands over your chest muscles, making you stifle moans as each touch of another man felt like an intense pleasure across your skin.

By now, you were completely nude, seductively shimmying in the middle of the bar for all to see. Your hard cock bobbed and swayed in front of you.

You couldn't stop from acting like a total slut, moaning loudly and showing off your new muscles for the random men to see. But you loved every second of it. You loved having them feel you up and you loved flexing for the crowd.

"Uughh!" you moaned loudly as you came, the crowd cheering as your large muscles twitched with orgasmic power. Sure you weren't in control of your body anymore, but that didn't stop you from enjoying it.

“I’m telling you, Dude,” Justin Howells vented to his workout bud as the both of them ran on the treadmills for cardio day, “his staring is getting to the point where I’m thinking about talking to the owner.” 

Justin was annoyed about how when he’d walked into the locker room because he’d forgotten his reusable water bottle, he’d spotted Dave near his stuff. It wasn’t that Dave was a bad guy or anything. The 40ish year old man had been a competitive bodybuilder back in his prime, but after years of no longer competing, he’d grown a sizable muscle gut that gave him more of a bearish appearance— and he’d made it clear that he found the fitness influencer very attractive.

Justin carried on, not only pissed that he’d been under the impression that he’d caught Dave trying to mess with his stuff (he didn’t have any proof unfortunately), but that the ex-bodybuilder was across the gym at the barbells, not even trying to hide the fact that he was blatantly staring at Justin as he ran.

His friend, Mike, just grunted, too focused on his run than anything.

Justin went on though, mainly so that he could clear his head of all the rage he was feeling. “And the fuckin’ weirdo tries to play it off all cool,” he huffed, feeling his meaty pecs bouncing as he continued to run shirtless. “I tried to confront him, but he shoved my water bottle at me, as if he’d known that I’d go back for it.”

“…yeah, isn’t that something…” Mike panted.

Justin rolled his eyes as he grabbed his water bottle, unscrewing the top as he ran so that he could keep his heart rate up. “No lying, man, next time that roidhead messes with me…” he trailed off and took a sip from his water bottle, the cool liquid sending an odd tingling sensation throughout the stud. He ignored it and swallowed, his mouth feeling like he’d just licked a D battery.

He noticed Dave’s smile growing larger.

“Next time, what?” Mike teased.

Justin cleared his throat and grunted. “I’m gonna…” he coughed and felt his mouth twitch and his tongue seemingly move on its own, “…suck his cock.”

He paled at the words that left his mouth, having had absolutely zero intention of saying anything even remotely close to that. He’d wanted to say that he’d kick his ass.

Mike flinched and cocked his eyebrow. “Huh?” he asked, slowing down the smallest bit.

Justin Howells shook his head and cleared his throat again, even rubbing at it with a muscled hand. “Um,” he stammered, “I said that I was gonna… suck his big cock so hard until he shoots his fat load down my throat!”

The stud nearly fell off the treadmill in shock and horror. Not only had his mouth seemingly forced those strange words out by itself, but he even shouted it out loud, garnering the attention of a couple of other gym goers who gave him weirded out looks.

“Keep it down!” Mike hissed. “You can’t be joking like that so loudly. People are gonna think you and Dave are some kinda thing.”

Justin struggled to regain his footing, his heart racing in his bare chest. He locked eyes with Dave, who was red in the face as he tried to stifle a laugh. However, the second their eyes met, Justin winced internally as he felt a stirring in his cock.

Dave gave the mortified stud a knowing wink as he performed bicep curls, his massive, hairy muscles bulging with power. He then stood up and began to waddle back towards the locker room, his broad back swaying to and fro.

At the sight of such masculine power, Justin’s cock started to plump up. “Wh-what the fuck… is wrong with my slutty body?” he hissed to himself. He frantically looked around the gym, wanting to wail out as he noticed that the stirring in his loins calmed down whenever he looked at anyone else in the gym, but the second his eyes landed on the older bodybuilder, his cock twitched excitedly and he felt himself flex his asscheeks.

“Justin, you okay?” Mike asked as he looked at the other man’s pale face.

Justin turned to his friend, desperately wanting to tell him that something was horribly wrong— that he couldn’t control his words and that he was getting hard just by looking at Dave. Unfortunately, when Justin opened up his mouth, his mortified ears heard himself say, “I’ll be even better as soon as that muscle daddy fucks my tight hole.”

He didn’t wait for a confused response from Mike. Instead, Justin hopped off the treadmill and stomped his way over towards Dave, his hard cock tenting out the front of his shorts. He knew that something was wrong and based on the knowing look that’d been on Dave’s gruff, handsome, chiseled, stubble-covered face, Dave knew what it was. He rushed into the locker room and stopped right in front of the older bodybuilder and tried to lean over him in a threatening way,  but his his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of the older man’s hairy pecs barely covered by his tank top ruined it.

Dave just smirked back at the red-faced man. “Can I help you, Bud?” he asked in his baritone-filled voice.

At the sound of the deep, manly bass emanating from the bodybuilder’s plump form, Justin felt his cock twitch and start to leak pre-cum. “Your sexy ass better tell me what you did to me,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down and wincing when he’d outwardly referred to the man as ‘sexy’.

Dave tried to look innocent, but the chuckle that escaped his full lips gave him away. “What do you mean?” he asked. “And you really find me sexy?”

Justin wanted so desperately to lash out at the older man, to demand that he fix whatever the hell was happening to him. His body, however, had other plans.

“You better shove that thick cock up my ass right now!” he barked, his eyes widening at the gay words that left his lips. Straining, he tried again, even clenching his jaw as he struggled to control his own words. “Wh-what… what the fuck d-did… did you do… me… Do me, Daddy!” He stomped his foot in frustration.

“Yeah, maybe later,” Dave winked, making the other man shudder. “First, I’m gonna let you suffer for a bit— I’ve always heard every time you’d talked shit about me in the gym. Well now, I think you’ll find it hard to say anything negative about me at all from now on.”

Justin paled at what Dave had admitted. He had no idea how, but somehow the muscle gut-having bodybuilder had cursed him, forcing him to constantly vocalize his need for the man’s cock, making him sound like some perpetually horny slut. He imagined himself at work or even the grocery store, unable to say anything besides how badly he wanted a man’s huge, veiny cock in his mouth or ass. Worse was that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dave’s hairy muscles, his own cock painfully hard now.

“You gotta fix this, Daddy!” he begged, even bringing his hands in front of himself. “Please, fuck me in the mouth and let me swallow your cum.” He coughed and tried again. “Let me be your little muscleslut! N-no, fuck my tight hole… lemme suck those muscletits…” He trailed off, starting to feel hopeless. 

Dave stood up and started to head out of the locker room. “I’ll fuck you after my workout,” he promised. “In the meantime, why don’t you go out on the floor and finish what you were doing.”

Justin’s heart raced, but he found his legs moving on their own accord as he strutted back out onto the gym floor.

Mike found him and hurried over. “You alright?” he asked, concerned for his friend. “You rushed off so quickly, I thought you’d gotten sick.”

Justin could feel it bubbling up in his throat. He pleaded with himself to stay quiet, but his mouth started to move all without his say so.

“I’m great, Stud,” he chirped. “I just had to admire Dave’s huge, sexy muscles. They’re so big and manly, especially his massive cock. After my workout I’m gonna let him wreck my tight hole, and then I’m gonna suck him off and ask him to tug on my nips…” The words just kept pouring out of the humiliated stud, and Dave couldn’t help but smirk as he overheard.

James Ellis walked into the locker room, his blue tank top drenched with sweat from his rigorous workout. He wiped at his brow and went to his locker so that he could change out of his sweaty clothes and rinse off.

“Hey James,” one of his fellow gym goers, Adam, greeted the 40 year old fitness influencer. He was also changing out of his sweaty gym clothes, done with his workout for the day.

The older man just nodded in his direction, not too keen on being in the locker room with Adam at the same time. Adam was a nice guy, and James had no issue at all with gay people, but he didn’t like the lustful stares that the younger man would give him every so often. His hungry eyes would always find a way to travel up and down the stud’s chiseled chest or seek out his toned butt whenever he’d perform squats. Still, wanting to wash off the musky odor from his body, James wrapped his towel tightly around his waist before shucking his shorts and underwear.

James worked out and he even took pictures of his fit body to inspire others to follow his regimen, but he didn’t work out to have other men ogle him like he was a piece of meat. He hurried over to the shower room, oblivious to Adam’s devious smirk.

The shower room was one of the older, military-style ones where it was just an open room with the shower heads lining the walls. Three other men where already in there when James arrived, each one facing his respective shower head so as to offer the illusion of privacy.

James placed his towel on the rack and walked nude over to one of the shower heads and twisted it, releasing the spray of hot water that felt good on his smooth skin. He went about washing himself, following the unspoken rule of facing his own shower head. However, he bit down on the inside of his cheek in irritation when the shower head literally right next to him turned on, and he didn’t need to look over to know who it was.

Adam began to wash himself next to the fitness influencer, not even being stealth about sneaking a glance here and there, his smirk plastered onto his face. “Showtime,” he whispered.

“What?” James almost barked, incredibly aggravated that the guy would choose to shower right next to him. He shook it off and started to lather up his toned muscles with his body wash, the suds clinging to every contour of his shredded body.

There was a slight pressure in his groin, and the older man cocked his eyebrow as he looked down at himself. He suppressed a gasp so as not to bring attention to him and his hardening cock. For seemingly no reason at all, James was stunned to watch his cock inflate to its full seven and a half inches, sticking straight out in front of him as he showered in a room with other men. His hard cock bobbed in front of him and his first instinct was to immediately cover himself.

But he couldn’t do it.

James turned red with a mixture of embarrassment and horror over the fact that no matter how much he mentally told his hands to shield his erect member from view, they simply continued to lather up his muscles with soap. He strained and grit his teeth as he tried to push through whatever odd paralysis he was experiencing.

The horrified man felt his lips part and his heart fell when he let out a low moan. “Ooohhh,” he moaned, his deep voice echoing out in the tiled room.

He saw from his peripherals that Adam was now full on watching him, and for some reason, that knowledge made his heart speed up excitedly.

The older stud winced internally as he felt his body turn around on its own accord, making him face outwards and present his erect cock to the rest of the room. His beefy hands began to stroke his sudsy chest, slowly feeling up each curvature of his muscles.

“Ooohhh yeah,” he moaned again, louder this time.

The the other men in the shower, confused as to what was happening, each turned around. One of them looked weirded out and left, disgust written all over his face. However, the remaining two only nodded in approval and hungrily watched as an erect James couldn’t stop running his hands all over his soapy chest.

James was screaming inside of his mind, especially when his fingers started to pinch and tug on his nipples. The action sent jolts of electricity straight to his hard cock, making it twitch wildly as he moaned loudly, unable to stop himself. He had no idea why this was happening, but based on the hungry stares of Adam and the other men, he knew that it was definitely a sight to see.

The mortified man felt himself turn back around, but his relief was short-lived when he started to thrust his bubblebutt outwards, trying to seductively present it to the small crowd. He felt his hips wiggle as he bounced his cheeks for the cheering men, screaming the whole time in the inside, but all that came out of his mouth were the lustful moans.

“Finger yourself!” one of the one grunted.

No! No! James pleaded with himself, especially when his head turned and he winked playfully at the men.

With a smack, both of James’s hands slapped down onto his large cheeks. He kneaded them, his fingers sinking into the abundant flesh before spreading them apart to show off his tight hole to the room. The older man was convinced that his humiliation couldn’t get any worse, but then, without any warning whatsoever, one of his thick fingers shoved itself inside his hole.

“OOooooOOHhh!” James squealed wildly with pleasure. He pressed his face against the tiled wall as his knees grew weak simply from playing with his ass. After a little bit of time, the horrified man shoved in another finger, and another, pumping them in and out.

James’s pleas with himself to stop were halted as his ass brought him immense waves of pleasure. The older man had never had anything shoved up his ass before, but now his hole was bringing him pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before in his entire 40 years. His moans were ringing out in the shower and they were so loud that he was certain people on the gym floor could hear him— but he didn’t care at the moment. His cock was twitching like crazy and his free hand found its way back to his nipples, roughly tugging on them.

The dual sensations of having his ass played with and his chest worked left the stunned man a moaning mess of hormones. Pleasure waves suffocated him and his humiliation was momentarily forgotten when he spasmed, shooting loads of cum all over the tiled wall in from of him from his untouched cock.

The men cheered as James came before returning to washing themselves, acting almost as if nothing had happened.

It took James a good minute to recover from blowing the biggest load of his life, his muscles still twitching with orgasmic power. He rubbed at his face, not quite grasping the concept that he was in control of his body again. He was so confused as what the fuck had just happened to him. He’d been showering and then all of a sudden, he’d had absolutely no control over his actions and he’d came from just fingering himself. His face was bright red with humiliation over his actions… and shame over how much he’d liked it. His ass still tingled with want, and it took all of his self control to not shove a few fingers up there again.

“Thanks for the show, James,” Adam said as he clapped the silent man on the shoulder. “I can’t wait for tomorrow’s.”

James felt his stomach drop at the thought of replaying what had just happened. The blood drained from his face as he envisioned himself pleasuring himself in front of men again, fingering his hole while tugging on his nipples like some depraved freak. 

Worse was that James could feel a stirring in his cock at the thought, a small part of himself looking forward to it.

Kevin Wolter strutted into the gym locker room, his chiseled chest puffed out and his head held high. Just as he’d hoped, he spotted Chase and Evan in there, the both of them changing into their gym clothes. The bodybuilder couldn’t fight the smirk that formed on his face as he thought over the sweet, sweet revenge that he had planned for the two jerks who frequently strutted around the gym, behaving as if they were better than everyone else there. It was annoying and about time they received their comeuppance.

Kevin, being larger than the other two men, sauntered over to the bench where they sat. “Hey guys,” he cheered in a fake voice.

Evan just grunted and Chase didn’t even bother to acknowledge him.

“Hey, did either of you lose this the other day?” Kevin asked, using a ploy to get the two studs to stare at the ring that he wore. 

As soon as Chase and Evan made eye contact with the ring, Kevin began to methodically twist his wrist to make the colors on it swirl hypnotically. The two studs quickly went slack-jawed as they stared into the kaleidoscope of color they saw, lost in a trance just as Kevin had been promised when he’d purchased the ring from that mysterious market.

“You two are now under my command,” he said in his deep, bellowing voice.

“We are now under your command,” Evan and Chase repeated monotonously.

The large bodybuilder couldn’t help but get all giddy as he realized that the two pests were now completely under his control. He could do whatever he wanted to them, and he knew just how to take down the peacocking studs. “Chase and Evan, the two of you now find me completely irresistible and will follow every order I give you. And because you’ve gotten on my nerves a lot in the past, you will be painfully aware of everything you do.”

With that, Kevin snapped his fingers and quickly shoved the ring back into his pocket.

Chase and Evan snapped out of their trance and shook their heads in confusion, unsure what had just happened.

“Man, I got dizzy all of a sudden,” Evan mumbled to his friend.

He and Chase looked at each other in confusion before glancing towards Kevin. As soon as their eyes landed on the bodybuilder’s large, muscled form, they widened. Kevin relished in the lustful stares in the straight guys’ eyes. Their jaws dropped and Chase had the decency to cover his hardening cock with his hands while Evan let his own eight inches tent his gym shorts.

“Like what you see?” Kevin teased the confused and turned on men.

Evan’s hard cock twitched, but he shook his head, desperate to ignore the newfound feelings that washed over him.

Kevin mocked frowned as he made a tsking motion with his finger. “Don’t lie to me,” he ordered.

“I think you’re so fucking hot!” Evan blurted, his eyes going wide at the words that left his mouth. “I want to worship your large, sexy muscles so badly!” He was shocked at what he was saying, but due to Kevin’s orders, he couldn’t help but say what was on his mind.

Kevin flexed a massive bicep in front of the other man, making his cock twitch and leave a wet mark in front of his shorts. “Then worship these big muscles,” he ordered.

Evan was horrified to feel his own body lurching forward without any thought on his end. Without any control over his own actions, he began to run admiring hands all over Kevin’s massive muscles, moaning as his fingers brushed up against every curvature of the bodybuilder’s physique. He even shoved his face into the muscle man’s musky pits, screaming at himself as he took in a big whiff and even lapped at the salty sweat with his tongue.

Chase stared in a mixture of horror and horniness as he watched his friend feel up the bodybuilder. “Wh-what are you making him do?” he stuttered, knowing that something had to be up due to the feelings of lust that washed over him in waves at the sight go another man. His own cock was throbbing with want the more he looked at Kevin.

Kevin just winked at him. “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “Just play with your hole while you beg for my cock, Little Man.”

Chase scoffed, but couldn’t stop his arms from moving on their own. He was mortified to feel himself tugging down his shorts and jockstrap, shoving several fingers up his tight hole. He began to moan wildly like a bitch in heat as he fingered himself. “Ooh,” he moaned, “fuck me, Sir, please!”

Evan continued to feel up Kevin’s huge muscles, screaming at himself to stop. However, he couldn’t prevent his own moans from echoing out in the locker room as his mouth latched onto Kevin’s protruding nipple.

“Please!” Chase continued to beg, red in the face with embarrassment as he now had four fingers up his tight hole. “Please fuck me with your massive cock, Sir!”

Kevin continued to smirk at the sight before him. He knew that he now owned Chase and Evan, and there was no way a day would pass by where he wouldn’t force the studs to debase themselves on command. Ideas ran wildly through his head: He could make them parade around the gym naked, make them suck off every patron, make them fuck one another in the middle of the gym floor.

The possibilities were endless.

Evan couldn’t stop worshipping Kevin’s huge muscles, already blowing his load twice into his gym shorts as he ran his tongue up and down the chiseled chest muscles. Chase by now was shrieking as he begged for Kevin to fuck him, his cries sounding out onto the gym floor, making a few of the other gym goers pause their work outs in confusion.

All the while, Kevin continued to smirk at his new pets, mischievous ideas forming in his head.

You woke up and sat up in your bed, hearing the mattress squeak more than usual. Cocking your eyebrow, you hopped out and hurried over to your bathroom. As you ran, you felt a cumbersome weight whenever you lifted your legs and an unknown bouncing sensation coming from behind you. When you entered your bathroom and flipped on the light, you gasped at your new reflection.

Standing in the mirror before you was the hottest muscle bear you’d ever laid your eyes on. He had thick pecs that were capped with large nipples that stood at attention. Biceps bulged and rested on large lats. Thighs were thick and pressed together, supporting the weight of the massive bubblebutt that was attached to the backside. Plus, the reflection displayed a large, nine-inch cock that dangled wildly with every movement. Best of all was that every large muscle was covered in sexy body hair.

It took you a few moments to register that the reflection in the mirror really was your own. Whenever you moved, the reflection followed suit. You flexed both of your now massive, hairy biceps, grinning widely when the man in the mirror did so too.

“Holy crap!” you exclaimed, feeling so turned on by your deeper voice. You had no idea how you’d managed to get your dream body, but you figured that it was best not to question fate. You happily got ready for work, finding that your clothes had even managed to change as well to fit over your new physique. You opted for the usual button-down shirt and khakis that you wore everyday to the office, however, this time you were pleased to see that your bulk strained the fabric to bursting. Your pecs stressed the buttons of your shirt to the limit and your nipples poked noticeably against the fabric. Your large cock was clearly outlined in your pants and your bubblebutt pressed against the back so much that you wondered if it’d rip to shreds the moment you took a step.

Even when you drove to work, you were giddy with the fact that your massive biceps kept brushing up against your plump pecs the entire drive, making you rock hard.

When you got to work, everybody acted as if you’ve always been a sexy, hairy musclestud. You puff out your chest with pride and strut around the office with your head held high. When it comes time for your big presentation, you enter into the conference room that has all of the higher ups, including your immediate supervisors.

You set up your slide show and stand in front of the board room, and begin to go over your topic, loving having all eyes on you. Again, you puff out your chest with pride, loving how one of the board member’s eyes widened with want at the sight of your hard nipples creating nubs on your shirt.

“…as you can see by the data presented,” you continued, using a laser pointer to direct attention to a graph, “we can clearly indicate that I have the biggest muscletits in this damn office.” You bounced both of your massive pecs, your eyes widening with shock at the words that left your mouth.

One of the board members leaned onto the conference table, cocking his eyebrow at you. “What was that?” he asked in a low voice.

You could feel blush forming on your bearded face and you wanted to walk out of the room to compose yourself. However, your new body apparently had other ideas as you felt your hands grab at your shirt, ripping it open to expose your hairy chest. “I said that I have the biggest muscletits in this office!” you bellowed loudly. To punctuate your obscure point, you reached up and gripped both of your larger nipples and gave them a rough tug, making your cock twitch to life. As if you were witnessing a movie, you saw and heard everything you were doing, but were unable to control any of it. 

A few of the board members left the room, weirded out expressions written over their faces, however a few of them (all men) remained, displaying hunger and lust.

You felt yourself toss your shirt to the floor as you started flexing, licking your larger biceps seductively in front of your bosses. You pleaded with yourself to stop as your fingers began to fumble with the button on your pants. However those pleas were useless as you smiled and dropped your khakis to the floor, exposing your widened thighs and large bulge to the room.

“Have you ever seen a bod this sexy?” you asked the men in the room, cringing at the cocky words that you were saying. You even wiggled your hips and made your bulge in your jockstrap bounce, continuing to show off.

You were screaming internally as you felt yourself turn around, slowly bending forward to show off your bubblebutt to the small group of higher ups. Both of your beefy hands slapped down onto your larger cheeks and you wanted to run and hide when you felt them part as you flashed your tight hole to your bosses.

The men cheered and some even clapped at your impromptu show.

“Hmm, looks like it still kills inhibitions,” one of them muttered to the other.

The one to his right nodded. “Yeah, but you can’t deny that they give subjects such a fuckin’ sexy body. I say it’s worth it.”

“Yeah, we’ll be able to market this as some sort of himbo pill: big muscles, zero brains.”

You began to panic at what you heard. Somehow, you’d been a guinea pig for your bosses, testing out some new supplement that had given you your dream body, but had turned you into a major muscleslut at the same time. You cringed at the thought of yourself showing off constantly in public: flashing your hole at the grocery store, playing with your bubblebutt at the movies, tugging on your large nipples at the coffee shop. No matter what, your new body would be on display and you’d be showing off how sexy you thought it was all the time.

“Ughh!” you grunted as you came in front of the men, a large wet spot forming on your jockstrap. As soon as you caught your breath, you felt yourself drop onto all fours and wag your massive cheeks at the men. “Who wants a turn?”

One of them stood up, followed by another, and then another, and soon a line was forming…

Hey there I was wondering if you could help me out. I always been too lazy and shy, I was wondering if you could help me be the confidant, driven, hardworking been in and outside of work, cocky man I’ve always wanted to be.

Shy and lazy? I feel that on such a personal level...

Luckily for you, I have just the trick. Go ahead and close your eyes, and we'll transport you somewhere...

You open up your eyes and are shocked at first to find yourself in the middle of a gym locker room, with a handful of naked musclemen standing around you. Their muscles glisten underneath the bright fluorescents of the locker room, making their musculature pop even more noticeably.

Before you can ask what's happening, you finally feel the immense weight on your entire body. You look down at yourself and hold back a loud gasp at the sheer expanse of muscle that you now possess.

Your body is now massive, looking like it should belong to a competitive bodybuilder. Everything about you was huge. Your arms were so large that they hung akimbo at your side, your biceps resting atop flaring lats. Your pecs were so heavy and cumbersome, feeling enormous and swole as they protruded far out in front of you. To act as a counterbalance, your glutes had expanded to a large degree, looking more like you were smuggling two soccer balls in your pants.

Your inspection was interrupted when you began to realize that the rest of the musclemen in the room were still staring at you, a hungry gaze int heir eyes.

On instinct, you felt yourself start to flex.

Without a thought on your side, you flexed your massive biceps, making the large muscle curl up with power, ellicitng cheers from the other men. You bounced your huge muscletits, letting the large mounds bounce up and down, jiggling with every movement.

You stayed there in the locker room, showing off your muscles for every guy who would look, a cocky smirk on your face the entire time. And you loved every second of it!