Muscle Growth - Tumblr Posts

“Dude, your ass is, like fully hanging out of your jeans right now,” I said, “You know that, right?”

“Uh huh,” he responded.

“And those tattoos.”

“Uh huh,” he bit his lip and looked down at his arm, which was etched with an intricate black and white design. He twisted it in the sunlight, admiring it as if it had always been there.

“And your body,” I said.

“It’s so sexy. Isn’t it?”

He pushed himself away from the railing of the balcony and threw his arms up over his head, putting his body on full display for me. He rolled his body up and down and gyrated his hips as if he was dancing to some sort of deep and sensual music that could only be heard by him. It struck me then that he’d make one hell of a gogo boy.

“It really is,” I confirmed, but the obvious boner in my pants had probably confirmed it for me. “Do you like being this way?”

“Mmm,” he moaned. Now, he had started running his hands along the solid muscles of the body I had given him. “I fucking love it.”

“Good,” I said. I was pleased that in addition to the physical changes, the mental changes seemed to have been turning out exactly as planned. “You’re going to make me a lot of money with that body, aren’t you?”

“I’ll do anything for a buck,” he winked. I loved the slutty, trashy voice he had chosen to start speaking with. “Or a fuck!”

He turned around and bent over with his ass in the air. It looked so fucking delicious in the jockstrap that I had him wearing. I licked my lips. I wanted to fuck him right then and there. 

“God damn,” I said.

I had turned my roommate into my own personal fuck toy, one that could be rented out by the hour, all with just a couple of magical pills. It was amazing.

“You’re too shy to do it out here on the balcony, huh?” he said. Ironic, since he himself had been quite the quiet, introverted sort himself before I’d given him the pills. “That’s OK, we can do it inside.”

He took me by the hand, totally confident, like he was a pro at this. I gladly followed him.

His Cousin’s Hat

The second Jake put on the hat, he could tell something was up. He had snuck into his step-cousin Matt’s room while he was out at the firing range with his dad and uncle. Jake had always had a bit of a crush on hot, red-neck Matt, though he dared not tell his family, and he snuck into his room to see if he could try on any of his clothes. A bright orange baseball cap caught his eye, and he instinctively reached for it and tried it on.

And that’s when the changes started happening. First, he felt himself start to get taller, if only slightly. Part of him thought it was all in his mind, when he felt a sudden soreness in his chest. He looked down to see his pecs inflating outwards, stretching out his t-shirt as his lower abdomen began to suck in.

“Fuck,” Jake whispered, pulling the now tight t-shirt over his head. Abs were beginning to pertrude  where his small belly once was. In addition, two cum-gutters were forming just above his waistline, pointing down towards his legs, which were starting to fill up his jeans.

Next were the arms. Jake felt them stretching, getting heavier and brushing up against his inflating lats. He rushed into Matt’s bathroom to look in the mirror. Sure enough, two massive peaks were forming on his biceps, his shoulder growing broader and his traps snaking up towards his neck.

On his face, his features were subtly shifting, growing smaller and more defined. Facial hair began to lightly pepper his face as Jake let out a satisfied grunt. Wait, he thought, is that my voice?

“Is that my voice?” he asked the ever inflating reflection. It was a deep, husky voice, a bit of a sexy southern drawl peppered in for good measure. “God damn,” he said, continuing to admire the new body, “God da— oooohhh…”

He let out a pleasured groan as the final step of the transformation started to occur. He felt a powerful heat emit from his crotch, and he grabbed for it in shock. And that’s when he started to feel it: his dick, inflating and growing in his grip. He could feel his massive ball sack churning out hot man juice and pumping it throughout his body, which was now starting to look like that of a young muscle model.

When the pumping finally subsided, he unzipped his now uncomfortably tight jeans and let all twelve inches of his thick new cock spill out onto Matt’s bathroom countertop.

Jake looked back up in the mirror at the new man standing before him. His body was perfectly sculpted, every new muscle glistening with hot, post-transformation stress. He flexed his bicep, and his dick jumped up from the counter. He was getting turned on by his own body!

With his free hand, he stroked his new big dick while flexing his bicep. “Aw yeah man,” he started to dirty talk to his reflection in that deep southern voice, “fuck yeah man, look at me. Fuckin’ massive. Aw yeah, I’m gonna make me cum…”

He felt his whole body grow hotter as his dick tensed in anticipation. Every muscle tensed, and Jake felt a wave of pleasure like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He let out a big, manly moan as he shot spurt after spurt of hot silvery man juice onto Matt’s mirror. It felt like he was standing there for hours, cuming over and over, testosterone shooting through his veins as he embraced his newfound man-hood.

When he was finally done, Jake ran his sticky hands over his sweat-drenched muscles, feeling the deep, warm crevices of every singe one of them. He loved his new body, he was just going to have a lot of explaining to do when his step-cousin got back from the range. And a lot of cleaning to do as well…

The Potion Room

NOTE: This story was inspired by multiple different anonymous requests, so pay attention, as you might see yours in here ;)

Frank was dreading having to go to his grandma’s old house. Buried deep within the southern backwoods, the once tiny, charming mini-mansion had grown derelict over the years, and served only as a reminder of his grandmother’s lavish and secretive lifestyle. For years after her husband died, she had lived alone in the house, leading many of the local townspeople to suspect she’d turned to some form of witchcraft. Frank and his family never entertained this notion, of course, but truth be told, the never saw her often enough to know for sure what she did with her free time.

It had been just a few weeks since she “died.” Though a body was never found, the family could only assume something awful had happened. Perhaps she’d drowned herself in the same river as her late husband, or fell off a ledge on one of her long, early morning walks. Regardless, someone had to settle her estate, and Frank, being the eldest of her grandchildren, was saddled with the responsibility of driving down to that creepy old house to find the will.

It was almost dark as Frank pulled up, his headlights illuminating the dusty living room through a wide, antebellum-style window. The house, like grandma, was archaic yet oddly charming. He felt a tinge of both fear and comfort as he walked up the steps and opened the door. It was unlocked, leading him to suspect that burglars had already had their way with the property. As long as they didn’t take anything important, he thought as he began searching through the house.

Everything seemed eerily sanitized. The house was clean, save for a mountain of dirty pans in the kitchen. Had she been cooking something? Why would the door be unlocked? Why would the door to the basement be so open?

He’d never been in the basement as a child. It was one of the places he and his cousins were forbidden to enter, and he even felt the smallest inclination of guilt as he descended the stairs and turned on the light.

It appeared to be a wine cellar, only the wine bottles were smaller and were all clearly homemade. Grandma’s personal collection. On the table in the middle of the room was a note. Finally, Frank thought as he picked it up and read:

My dearest Frank,

To you I leave my most treasured collection. I implore you to read each label carefully before drinking, for if used right, this room could unlock your greatest potential. But if used incorrectly, it could unleash the monster in you.

Weird. Frank put down the note. He was disappointed. Out of everything she had, this was what she left him with? A dingy wine cellar?

Frustrated, Frank reached for one of the bottles. The label read: “Pinther” in her handwriting. Was it some special kind of brew? Frank didn’t even think. He popped the bottle off and began to drink, hoping to drown out the crushing disappointment that was growing heavier and heavier in his chest.

But it didn’t take like wine. Instead, it tasted like sugar water. It tingled and prickled his throat as it settled into his chest and began to expand. Oh shit, Frank thought, what did I just drink?

He didn’t have time to think because he was already falling backwards into a chair, his body seeming to suck itself in. His breaths became larger and deeper, and his body surged with an energy that he hadn’t felt since he ran track in high school.

His shirt was hanging loosely on his once bulky frame, and Frank tore it off to reveal a slim, runner’s body slowly beginning to chisel itself out of his fat.

“Holy shiiiiiiiooooooohhhhh fuck.” Frank shuttered as dopamine started to flood his system. He felt like he was on the brink of an orgasm, and his hands immediately started to feel up the hard new lines that decorated his body like a greek statue. He felt an immense attraction towards himself, and he stood up to admire his figure as the changes finished running their coarse.

“Fuck me man,” Frank said very literally as he admired his adonis body. He looked like a Calvin Kline model. Everything was perfectly proportioned, his skin perfectly toned and his muscles perfectly shaped. His jaw was chiseled and rough with stubble, and as he ran his hand over it and grinned, he could feel his dick growing ever more uncomfortable in his jeans.

He dropped them down to reveal a true beast of a cock, long and thin, with silvery pre-cum dripping from the tip. He had never been this turned on by his own physique, and the more and more he thought about touching his own body, the more his penis seemed to expand.

But then he remembered what he was doing here. What other potions might grandma have had stored in her collection? After all, it was Frank’s now. He could do what he wanted with it; he could BE anyone he wanted.

He reached for a random bottle on the shelf. Filled with horny excitement, he didn’t even read the label as he popped the cap and took a swig. This one tasted more sour, like tequila, and it burned his throat as it made its way down to his stomach, where it landed like a brick.

“Woah,” Frank remarked. Suddenly he felt very full, like he’d consumed a hefty meal. When he looked down he saw that his gut was starting to come back, but just as disappointment started to set in, he was hit with a tsunami of pleasure.

Frank stumbled around, his vision blurring. A warmth engulfed his body that was very different from the sharp coolness of the previous drink. This one made him feel numb, hot, and much larger. Literally, as he looked down at himself through the haze, he could see not just his gut was expanding, but EVERYTHING was expanding. His arms, his pecs, his thighs, his feet. Even his dick started to gain some chub to it.

“Lo que la cogida?” Frank remarked, than clasped his mouth. He had never spoken a word of Spanish, and yet as the warmth continued to spread, he struggled to remember anything in English. Who was the potion turning him into? He looked down one more time to see a light dusting of dark hair cover his thick, bulky muscles, and send him into a strange state of satisfaction.

When the changes started to subside, Frank began to admire his new body. It was thick as all hell, with bulging packages of muscle that made him want to cum right then and there. His skin had gained a slightly darker shade, and the stubble around his neck had grown into a thick beard. He was a handsome Spanish hunk alright, with a cock that seemed almost alien in its thickness and girth. Frank clasped it in his rough, hard hand, and started to stroke.

He threw his head back. “Ay dios mio…” Nothing compared to the feeling of letting his meaty dick slide through his calloused finders, wet with per-cum. He liked the feeling of letting his wet hands caress his thick muscles, flicking his nipples and toying with his big cushon-y ass.

He could have been perfectly content walking out of that room in his new form, settling down with some sexy girl or guy who’d worship his body every night. But no, Frank wanted more…

Latin Frank sauntered over to the shelf and reached down to the very body. His skin caressed itself as his bulking muscles rubbed each other, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from shooting his load. Not yet, he thought, and reached for the very last bottle on the shelf.

It was black, and the label had been scratched off. He felt hesitant, that was, until he popped the cap and took a wiff. This potion smelled like night, like cool, crisp evening air, like dark mist forming at the base of forest trees. He didn’t care that the bottle was unwelcoming, or that he might have been overdoing it with grandma’s gift. He simply drank it just like every potion before.

He realized immediately that he’d made a mistake. His body flared with pain, REAL pain, as the liquid, fiery hot and bitter, set his throat ablaze. He dropped the bottle on the ground and growled in agony as his entire body began to seer like it was being doused with gasoline. He’d never felt pain like this, he’d never felt such an aching, burning desire to tear at his skin.

Frank looked down at his hands. He could see the veins popping, the muscles tensing, and the previously dusty hair around his forearms grow thick and bushy. But the one thing he noticed were his fingernails, which were growing long and dark. Like claws.

“Aggggghhhhh!” Frank screamed. His face was starting to shift too, his skin contracting to form an angrier, more canine face. He felt his teeth sharpen and expand, and as the pickle of hair began to erupt from his face, he let out a genuine howl.

Then suddenly, the pain stopped. For a split second, Frank was left in a strange state of fluctuation, halfway between man and wolf, before his hornieness returned. This time with a vengeance.

Frank panted, with each breath his fur-covered muscles expanding and expanding until his massive werewolf body took up the entirety of the basement. His cock grew to colossal size, cum now starting to flow steadily as he became enslaved in a state of unending orgasm. Frank was prisoner to the insanely erotic pleasure of his body. He was a monster, wiped of all humanity, replaced with raw sexuality.

“OOOOWWWWWWWW” Frank howled. Cum rocketed from his monster dick and practically flooded the room, soaking his dark fur and the enormous muscles that pulsed beneath. As he panted, collapsing to his knees, he thought of only one thing: fucking. He needed to hunt, he needed to pound, he needed to empty his fresh load, already filling up his orange-sized balls, into the ass of some unsuspecting guy.

Frank the horny werewolf clawed his way out of his grandma’s basement. It didn’t mean anything to him anymore. All that mattered was fucking, howling, and growing bigger and bigger. As he ran outside into the light of the now full moon, he let out a terrifying howl. He’d become the monster he was warned about. 300 pounds of pure, animalistic passion. And it was only just the beginning…

Little Bro, Big Bro

Charlie never knew what hit him. One blast of the BroMaker 3000 in the centre of his back was all it took to transform him from my nerdy little bro into a jacked stud worthy of hanging out with me at the pool.

It was strange to watch the changes envelop his body as he waded through the water. The baggy board shorts were first to go, shrinking into a pair of ass hugging speedos as his scrawny butt inflated into a set of squat toned globes that were a testament to hours lifting with me and my bros at the gym. The changes quickly moved up his body as his back packed on firm muscle and his shoulders rounded out into perfect boulder shoulders. He didn’t even notice as his stick like arms swelled into perfect guns and a tattoo faded in at the top of his back.

As usual, the BroMaker completed the look with a neat flourish, in this case, a trucker ball cap perched backwards on his now immaculately styled hair leaving Charlie remodelled as the perfect jock bro to be my wingman.

As ‘Chuck’ adjusted to his new, beefy body, I admired my work and wondered whether I’d been as nerdy as Charlie before my bud Chad had used the BroMaker on me?

I didn’t think about it for long though. Explaining the BroMaker to Chuck and how it was now his turn to use it on a nerd in need of a better life could wait until later. I settled back on the sun lounger, took a pull on my beer and smiled to myself as Chuck effortlessly tossed a football to Chad, the taut muscles of his arms rippling as he launched the ball with practiced ease as if he’d been doing it all his life!

Simon Says

“Alright, now I want to look like Preston North.” I said aloud to myself as I looked into the mirror at my reflection.

I watched as my face slowly morphed until it took on the appearance of the hottest guy at my school, Preston. I then watched as my curly black hair transformed to a short brown and a backwards cap completed the look. Cobblestone abs replaced my slightly chubby belly and my new impersonation was completed when my nerdy clothes changed to gym shorts and a tank top.

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Simon Says (Part 2)

Read Part 1 HERE.

After returning to my former self, I came downstairs and plopped myself down at the dinner table. My dad soon joined me, along with my mom. Oh boy, we are having leftovers… again. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, at least I used to. You see, I am actually adopted. My mom and dad told me that one night, they found me outside their doorstep. Not knowing what to do, they took me in for the night. They tried to find out who my parents were that left me there, but to no avail.

Anyways, they tried to make the best out of a bad situation and decided to raise me. Money has always been tight, and it is something that I am now used to, but I always wondered how things would have played out differently. 

Oh, and one other thing: my parents are super conservative. This puts a little dent in me being honest about my sexuality, but I am hoping that one day, they will learn to understand. In the meantime, I feel very detached from them.

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The Suitcase ReDux

The overhead lights flickered above me in the thrift store. I walked around looking to see if there was anything good today. The place smelled like an old bowling alley but occasionally I would find some pretty awesome deals. When you're a millennial with massive student debts, you have to do what you can to cut corners. As I turned the corner a suitcase caught my eye. It was a retro leather suitcase in saddle brown leather. It honestly looked like something that would fetch a pretty hefty price at an antique store. I picked it up to check the tag and it was marked at $10. I figured that was a steal and went up front to pay and then headed home.

I didn't think much about the suitcase for the rest of the week and went about my daily grind. Soon it was Friday and I was looking forward to the weekend. My girlfriend was spending the weekend with some of her friends at a bachelorette party at a lake cabin so I had the place all to myself. I was laying on the couch going through my Netflix options and was bored. The suitcase caught my eye still by the door where I had set it down. I decided to check out the inside so I went over and brought it to the couch.

I opened it up and it smelled of leather and mothballs. Hmmm. Maybe that’s why it was so cheap. I wondered about all the previous owners it might have had and was looking through the pockets when I found an envelope tucked inside.

“To the new owner of the suitcase, please trust what I am about to tell you. This suitcase has a mystical power to transform you into anyone that you have a photo of. All you have to do is place the photo in the suitcase of the person you want to become along with one of your hairs. Once you wait an hour, you will find the picture and hair gone and the clothes that the person was wearing instead. If you put on the clothes, you will find yourself transformed into the person in the photo. Once you are ready to switch back, put all the clothes back in the suitcase and close the lid. You will find yourself back in your original body.

A few things to note, the person in the photo has to be wearing at least one article of clothing. You will become the person as they were when the photo was taken. You cannot alter the body in any way. It will just revert back to the original form so don’t bother. You can access the person’s memories but it can take a bit of practice at first. 

Now a few warnings. I don’t know how the suitcase works and never found out. If the person that you become has a really strong personality, it can come through in sometimes unexpected ways. Don’t lose any of the clothing, you need it all to switch back. Don’t attempt to do anything unusual or creative. I always felt that the suitcase almost had a sense of humor and can find ways to mess with you. Be careful but also have fun.”

I had a transformation fetish as long as I could remember. Whether this letter was true or not, my heart was pounding and dick twitching at even the thought of role playing or even better what if it was true? I decided to give it a try. I had the place all to myself and the worst that happens is that I get a jack off session out of it.

I went and grabbed my laptop and started searching pictures on Tumblr. I was bi and had known that I liked guys and girls really since i started puberty. I was afraid to come out as bi and so ended up with my girlfriend but still kept it a secret even from her. However, I had a pretty good porn stash on Tumblr of hot guys to work with.

As I started looking through the photos, I was trying to decide who I wanted to transform into. Should I try a different race? Go for a huge bodybuilder? A guy with a huge dick? What would it be like to be female? I didn't want to go too crazy the first time so decided to stick with guys for now. I kept browsing and started fantasizing about what it would be like to transform into any of them. My dick at this point was rock hard and leaking precum. I started slowly jacking myself while looking through photos. I didn't want to cum quite yet but was too turned on to resist.

Man, it was hard to decide but I figured I just had to pick one and go with it. Nothing says that I couldn’t try others out if it was true. Alright, here we go. This is the body.

He was a wrestler and wearing a singlet. I had always found jocks hot in school especially wrestlers. I had always wanted to be one of them so now I had the chance. I printed the photo and placed it inside the suitcase with one of my hairs and set a timer on my phone for 1 hour.

While I was waiting for the hour to be up, I went to the bathroom to check myself out in the mirror. I was 31 years old and in pretty good shape. Not excellent shape but you could tell I worked out. My diet was always the problem and it was getting harder and harder to out train a bad diet as I had gotten older. Not a bad face but just overall I was very plain looking. I definitely wasn't turning any heads. Thinking about the jocks back in school, I remember how I had been such a nerd and teased constantly. Part of the reason I went to the gym now so much.

Finally, it seemed after forever the hour was up. I walked over to the suitcase and muttered holy shit under my breath. Gone were the photo and my hair, replaced with a green spandex singlet. My heart was pounding in my ears. It was real. How shit, it was real!

I grabbed the singlet and went to the bathroom. I wanted to be able to see the transformation in the mirror. I stripped down and held the singlet pausing looking it over. Alright, here it goes. I put each leg through and pulled it up. I had never worn a singlet before and the snugness and stretchiness of the spandex was getting me hard. That’s when it started.I first noticed that I looked just a bit different in the mirror. I still looked like myself but just a bit off. My hair was getting darker and my bodyfat was melting away. Soon my abs were showing through and my face started to take on that of the jock. I felt my legs and ass swell with muscle. As the muscle growth moved up, I saw my abs become more defined and pecs jut out. My arms bulged with muscle. I felt my balls swell too and my dick get larger. I noticed myself shrinking down a few inches in height. This guy must have been shorter than I realized. Finally, my skin took on his tan color and was smooth and flawless.

I stared in awe at the mirror. I couldn't believe it had worked. Hello sexy, I said to myself. My voice was much deeper and had a Boston or maybe east coast accent to it. I stripped off the singlet and saw my dick. It was uncut and at least 8 inches hard. A definite improvement from my barely 6 inches. I started jacking myself off while playing with my new foreskin. The sensation of pulling it back and forth across my now super sensitive dick head was different for sure. I started moaning uncontrollably which caught me off guard. I was definitely not a vocal masturbater but this guy must be. Moaning louder and louder, the sensations were almost too much. I felt almost high or delirious. I exploded cum all over the bathroom mirror and counter. I felt weak in my legs after that orgasm. I cleaned up and kept checking myself out in the mirror and flexing.This body was definitely hot. I was amazed at how responsive my muscles were to flexing and how low his bodyfat must be. I could see every ab and muscle fiber.

I went back out to the living room to take a look and see if there was another body I wanted to try. I sat down at my laptop and upon seeing the gay Tumblr site I had been on, I said “Whats with all these faggots?” without even thinking. I grabbed my mouth. Shocked at what just came out of my mouth. I closed my eyes for a moment and memories of me or rather the guys body I had tormenting kids in school. I remember shoving kids against their lockers, even punching one especially effeminate boy in the face and giving him a bloody nose. I was a straight homophobe now... Kind of freaked out, I went back and put the singlet in the suitcase and watched my body transform back. My mind once again my own.

Wow, that was crazy I thought to myself. It had almost been like there was a whole other set of memories in my brain that seemed real to me. As if they had happened to me but I knew they had happened to the jock. What are the chances that I would have picked a homophobe the first time?

As I sat down to peruse other photos, I was excited that it was Friday night and I had the place to myself all weekend. I was going to have some fun for sure.

To be continued...

Realized maybe you wanted me to submit an actual ask. Dude I live your writing and am so depressed about the coming Tumblr apocalypse. I would love to end up as a big roided meathead in the great change.

You know a lot of people said that the great shift was “the end” to everything  too. Numerous people finding themselves in such vastly different bodies, its scary.  But people adapt and people change. Take you for example. Like my blog you lived a nice and comfortable life, but then the great shift happened and you found yourself in a gym surrounded by weights, supplements, and a mirror.

You had become a larger than life bodybuilder with a serious urge to workout harder than you ever had in your life. You embraced this new change and strived forward in life, letting nothing stop you! Granted, when you’re 6′9 and nearing 300lbs there are few things that could stop you, but you get my meaning. 

Let’s hope my blog’s future is as bright as the sun when it shines on your sweaty pecs!

Dumb Jock Guy

“What have you done to me?” I blurted, or slurred, or something.  I felt messed up.  I was at my friend Tyler’s apartment, but this wasn’t right.  I had about 30 or 35 more pounds of muscle on me than I did previously.  I still looked like myself in a way, but now I was huge, sporting this whole beefy jock look.  I mean I was just packed with muscle.  Crazier still, I was now covered with tats.

I remembered now, vaguely, being tied down for Tyler’s experiment.  What the hell had those guys drugged me with?  They must have been running multiple recalibration IV drips at once.  I could still see the small Band-Aid the inner part of my right arm where the needle had gone in.

This was far worse than date rape or slipping a guy roofies.  I mean, I could press charges if I wanted to, and I always already thinking I might.  I was full of so many conflicting emotions.  We were such good friends, but this crossed so many lines.  This was my body, man, and I didn’t sign off on this.  The health effects, the negative consequences, and how I’d have to explain this to my employer and my family were all racing through my head.

Why would he do this to me?  I knew the guy was a perv, and admittedly, I had that in common with him.  We loved to talk about this sort of thing, but he was far more into dabbling around with the actual drugs and the realities of it than I had been.  To me, it was just a lot of hot fantasy and something to beat off to.  I loved looking at before and after pictures on the net and got off to those a lot.

Tyler and I had so much in common that way, but to knock me out like that and actually hook me up to those drugs and beef me up was just way beyond the pale what anybody should ever be able to do or get away with.

I’d been playing with fire, being Tyler’s friend, and I knew it, I suppose, but to actually get burned like this was just not ok with me.  I would have never permitted this.  I was huge.  I didn’t even feel like myself.  I felt muddied up and messed up.  I hoped that would fade soon as I came out of it more.  I still felt bleary with sleep.

Even my voice sounded different.  It was low, rich and confused-sounding, to my ear at least.  I sounded almost dumb in a way.

“Tyler, you can’t do this, man.  I thought we were friends.  It was one thing to discuss it and fantasise about it, but to run me through a cocktail of so many different substances without my permission is batshit crazy.  You have to tell me what you put into me.  It’s my body, and these were all supposed to be my decisions.”

“You said you’d think it’s hot when we were playing around with spirals and inductions that night.  You admitted how hot it would be and how much you really wish you were brave enough to go for it at times.  I’m just giving you what you know you truly wanted, deep down, more than anything.”

“Dude,” I said, and now it wasn’t the casual words of the guy I’d used to be, who also said ‘dude’, but rather this booming, jocked-up ‘dude’ that had all the tone of domineering jock guy, “just because I talked about something doesn’t mean it was ok, and you know that!  You know that, Tyler!  It’s not even legal!”

“Since when do you care so much about the letter of the law?” Tyler said.

“Since right now!” I shot back, sounding like an angry muscle dude, which I supposed I technically was now.  I was so new to this, and it was so strange, trying to get used to it, that I was still surprising myself every time I spoke.

Tyler was smiling, his eyes glittering at me, looking very smug and self-satisfied.  It pissed me off.  He started explaining, “Well, it’s too late to be upset about it, because what’s done is done.  We jocked you up real good, bro, as I’m sure you can tell.  You were under for a long time and we did the tats while you were passed out.  Some of that ink’s even going to have mild psychotropic effects on you.  It’s been weeks since you went under.  It was so hot watching you slowly get bigger, day after day.  It looks like your memory’s been restored pretty well.  You’ve somehow broken through the wall of the jock mind we’ve been trying to give you.  Sometimes it doesn’t activate right away.  Yeah, we gave you the mind of a jock to go with the body.  Honestly, I’m surprised you were strong enough to fight off those effects and keep them at bay.”

“You gave me psychosomatic drugs too?” I said, trying to control my panic.  “Dude, you gotta get me on an IV blocker.  I can forgive you for the body, maybe, but you can’t mess with my mind!”

“Dude, you always said the mental change was some of the hottest stuff to you when we talked about it and watched videos.  I remember you telling me how much it made you hard.”

“But how will I be able to seriously go through life like this?” I said, scratching my head.  I was glad I was still thinking like myself, but I was worried that those drugs were in me.  I knew how permanent their effects usually were and how hard it could be to ever revert a guy after that.  I wasn’t sure if I was paranoid or what, or if I was still groggy from sleep, but I was feeling almost confused.  “You can’t, Tyler, you just can’t!  Let’s do this but get out the IV drip right now.  You don’t have my permission and there’s still time.”

“I don’t have any blockers here,” Tyler said then, laughing.

“Then we’ll go out and get blockers, and some clarity antidote too!” I argued.

“But I like you like this, dumbass.  Why would I want to block what I gave you when I know there’s a dumb jock guy just itching to come out in your personality.  It’ll match the body.  You look really sexy.  It should be hot to see you get just as sexy upstairs.  Don’t you love how you look?”

“This can’t be me, I look like… I dunno man,“ I said.  "I look stupid like this,” I said, which wasn’t what I’d planned on saying.  I had fantasised about it for sure, but that’s a whole different thing from really going through this, especially with Tyler taking away my control over the situation.

“That’s because you are stupid like that,” Tyler answered me.  “You can’t really fight it, can you?”

That really angered me, that he was just clearly toying with me like this and refusing to listen to me.  I sure as hell could fight it, I knew, and wasn’t about to be part of this experiment without a fight.  "Yeah man, I can fight it,“ I said, “and we’re going to drive out and get some blockers for me to take right now or I’ll seriously beat your ass, Tyler.  Like this, I definitely could.  Come on, let’s get in the car,” I commanded him, not even caring how threatening I sounded now in this voice.  It was literally a matter of life and death, at least as far as my soul was concerned, not that I technically believed in a soul.  I just wasn’t ready for anything this radical, and this huge body was change enough.  I could get used to this hot muscle bod I was now sporting, my mind thought as it raced, but not the personally of a dumbass, too.  This could be just perfect as it is.  We had to get me on an IV and reverse those injections that could mess with my mind.  There were still time.  Why wouldn’t Tyler just listen to me?

“I’m not going in the car.  You’re seriously going to physically threaten me?” he said, as if he was the victim here.

“You bet I will,” I said, putting one big hand of mine on his neck.  I squeezed him a little.  This wasn’t like me, and I was stronger than I realised, but I felt like I had no choice.  He wasn’t going to stall for time with me.

“You like this, dumbass.  You know it’s what you wanted.  You were the one who beat off to it, and I just gave you what you know you want.”

“It’s not what I wanted,” I said then, and it unnerved me how my words sounded slurred to me, almost unconvincing.  I felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, as I needed a drink of water or something.  I hoped it wasn’t the drugs.

I had to clear my head.  I walked over to the big mirror on the wall of the living room, trying to discern if anything was wrong with me.  Was this really me. Yeah, I looked like a dumb jock guy, but I had to admit I looked kind of hot.  Crazy as it was, my dick started to react in my boxer shorts, which was all I was wearing.  I suppose just really getting a good look at myself had done it.  This was just like a fantasy.  I’d had this fantasy a lot of times.

Water.  I needed water.  Then I’d force this little motherfucker into the car with me, even if I had to tackle him to the ground and hurt him first.  Tyler and I had been friends, and this was such a huge betrayal.

i walked into the kitchen, still getting used to the size of my big feet against the carpet, the way my thighs were so thick and seemed to almost roll around each other in my gait now, and the way the pecs on my chest almost seemed to bound and bounce even when I was just walking.  This was crazy.  I was such a meaty guy, and now I knew what it felt like to be one for the same time.  As invigorating as it was, I didn’t expect to be feeling the tits on my chest bouncing as I walked, or the way my arms seemed to just swing stupidly at my sides like a gorilla’s arms, pushed kinda outward from the muscle.

I filled up a glass of water right from the tap, downed it, wiping sweat off my brow.  This was almost psychological trauma in a way, I thought.  I set the water down beside the sink and turned back to face Tyler.  “Let’s go.  Now!”  I ordered.

“You dumb hunk of meat,” Tyler said, “you know you want this.  Just cave in.  The drugs are in you.  Let that caveman mind rise up and the resistance in you wane away.  I know he’s in you.  We gave you the drugs.”

“Fuck that man, I am not going to be your dumb jock or something!” I blurted out, but the sound of my voice even sounded like a Neanderthals’.

“Yes you are a dumb jock, stupid,” he said.  Tyler was saying this to me!  I hated the little prick so much right then!

“I’m not stupid, you dumbass!” I roared at him.

“Is that the Pee-wee Herman defence, dude?  I know you are but what am I?”

“You’re a scrawny little fucker who’s gonna take me to get the antidote!” I roared, walking up to him and grabbing him by the shirt.  “Take me, now.”

“Take you where, dumbass?”

I grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks with one hand then, making his lips purse in a trout pout.  “You know where.”

“Ok, ok,” he said, and I put one big hand on his neck and started pushing him towards the door, grabbing his keys off the table for him.  “Where’s a shirt?  I need a shirt and some pants?” I said.  Tyler was smaller than me, and now I was getting worried that nothing would fit me.  “Where’s my shirt?” I said.

“I don’t have one here, man.  You can try mine.”

I hustled over to his closet, because there was no time to waste, and everything looked too small.  I tried one of his coats, because it looked larger, thinking maybe at least that would cover me up, but my thick arms wouldn’t even go in the sleeves all the way.  I swear I heard the seams start to snap already when I tried to force it a little, so I just dropped it on the floor.  Whatever, I’d have to go like this.  There were no shoes, though, either.  Shit.  I’d just have to go like this and maybe wait in the car for him.  I’d ask him for his keys when he left to go inside.  I’d make him promise me.  We had to go.

When we were out in the hall, I let him go, since he seemed to be complying now, and as athletic as I was now, I felt pretty confident I could outrun him, grab him and tackle him if he tried to get away.  Plus he had said ‘ok’.

It was all going to be ok, I told myself, especially when we got me juiced up with some of that clarity antidote.  My mind was still intact.  I could feel it.  Internally,I was feeling strange though.  It was almost a meaty feeling, in a way, like I could get into this more.  I wanted to hurt Tyler.  I wanted to look in the mirror again.  I was marvelling at my body, even as frightening as it was.  It felt like I had to almost fight to stay on task, in a way, though I still felt like myself, mostly.  In a way it was like being drugged, and of course, I had been drugged, so that’s exactly what it was.

We were hustling, no-nonsense time, to Tyler’s car down below in the parking lot.  I felt like the Hulk or something, bounding downstairs barefoot in nothing but my boxers.  It was embarrassing, even as there was something twisted and sexy about it all, and there was no denying that.  By the time we were in the car, and Tyler was seemingly compliant and calmly driving us, I was even calming down enough to lean back in my seat, arms behind my head, taking a breather, trying to take in what had all happened to me and what all had to happen next.

As we hit the open road and his car sped up the onramp onto the interstate, I felt my dick bounce up, hard.  Just looking at my own body was turning me on.  It really was a fantasy come to life for me.  I laughed, telling Tyler that I’m fucking hard, so look what he’s done, and he laughed too.  I told him again that I’m pissed but this is kind of cool and I just wanted my mind to stay the same.

By the time we were halfway there, I’d given my cock a few strokes through my boxers.  My cock was just so turned on, and it would not go down, and it didn’t hurt to grip my cock and balls through the fabric a few times.  I wanted to feel the heft of my meat.  I swore my cock felt bigger, and I was tempted to just pull my boxers down and look right then and there, but it felt kind of hotter to just wait and save it for later.

Then I did pull the waistband out, looking down at my pubes and thick meat, and I swear that just from looking, my cock got so excited that it started to leak pre.  I was right in Tyler’s car but he’d fucking done this to me so it’s not like I cared, and it was all crazy, but damn if I wasn’t a sexy-looking guy like this.

I felt like I was really ruminating on that, on how I looked hot like this, just the muscle of my arm reclined up against the door or the thick thighs busting out of my boxers, and wanting to give my cock some attention, too.  I felt like a sexed up dumbass right then, even though I knew I wasn’t a dumbass.  I looked like a musclebound jock for sure, but I sure wasn’t about to cave in to the psychosomatic stuff and start thinking about myself, or thinking just like some sort of musclebound jock or whatever.  Even if it was a kind of hot thought to have, it was a thought I could explore after these drugs in my veins had been defused.  I could swear I was feeling them, even, and that wasn’t good, but I still had full control and there was still plenty of time.

I had to pull my boxers down again, and so I did.  I hefted my dick with my hand, and my dick looked fat and hard as fuck now, a drop of pre glistening at the time.

“Dude, look at this cock,” I said to Tyler.  “If you’re lucky and get me those drugs maybe I’ll even let you suck on it at some point,” I teased, knowing I was also kind of serious.

“Hot, dude.  You like playing the dumbass like that, don’t you?” “Yeah, I guess I do like playing it.  I just don’t want to be it.”

“Part of you wants to be it.”

“Admittedly, that’s true.  But you’re going to get me the antidote and that’ll be the end of it, because I’ve gotta be myself, man.” I said, feeling up one of my thick pecs as I talked.  It felt so much easier to control and command Tyler with this body and this voice.  He thought he was in charge, but he probably didn’t realise how much power this body truly gave me over him.  I had physical power and sexual power over him now, and even my voice and the way I was talking to him had already taken on a whole different dynamic than it would have it I’d had my old voice.

Then Tyler was pulling into the parking lot.  He left the keys with me, per my request, but promised me that I could trust him.  He said he sure didn’t want to get in trouble for drugging me without my consent, so there was a lot at risk for him, too.

With Tyler gone now, and me left impatiently waiting, I flipped down the sun visor.  I wanted to take a look in the mirror.  Man, I really did look like a dumb jock.  I supposed I’d really be able to get into this thing after I had the antidote.  I smiled at my reflection and lifted an arm to flex.  Looked good.

I’d really be able to fuck with Tyler with a body like this, but that would have to wait until after the antidote.  Even if I decided to forgive him, I’d like to make the little punk pay for getting me into this and doing it without my permission.  I could picture myself forcing him to his knees on his bathroom floor, making him suck my cock as I slapped it all over his face.

He was kinda cute, even though he was a weak little guy to me now, and I was sure he majorly got off on doing this to me, so I’d have to give him a taste of his own medicine at some point.

I did look pretty good like this, and it was cool how I felt like a jock now even though I knew I wasn’t one.  Obviously, I wasn’t gonna become one just because I looked like this, and yet I definitely wanted to enjoy all the perks of this body, too.  I flexed again for the little mirror, telling myself I should put it away, and I could see myself in the rearview mirror, too the massive heft of my arms looking surprisingly huge now.

Tyler came out with the bag, finally.  I had already folded the mirror up and was leaning back against the headrest of my chair, arms behind my head, pits bared.  I felt good like this.  I wanted to tease Tyler, show off, and let him know his chances of fucking with me were over.  I was in control now.

It was on the ride back that I realised that I wanted to flex some more, that I wanted to beat off, and that I was feeling really good.

“Dude, you should hurry up.  Drive faster if you can.  I’m feeling really turned on.”

“What, like you want to beat off or something?  It’s ok if you want to.  I don’t mind.”

“Dude, don’t say that,” I said, grabbing my cock through my boxers and enjoying the pleasure of that.  I wasn’t going to just beat off in his car, as hot as the idea was.  We had to get back fast.  I felt like I was losing control of my mind.  In a way it’s kind of like when you get hard for so long and so in the zone of sex that you don’t ever want to come back to reality.  I felt myself slipping and slipping further into those sort of desires.

Even as Tyler parked the car, and I was still hard in my boxer sorts, bounding back up the stairs barefoot like the Hulk, part of me was starting to think that if he didn’t get the blockers and clarity antidote into me in time, it might not be so bad.  I felt good like this.  Really good.  Scary good, in a way.

“Tyler, bro, you gotta get that stuff in me,” I said, clapping an arm on his shoulder as he opened the door.  I sounded halfhearted to myself in a way, too casual.  I wasn’t panicking.  I was enjoying this.  Fuck.  I gave my cock another squeeze through my boxer shorts.

“Yeah, I will,” Tyler said, smiling, and he didn’t seem to be hurrying enough for me.  “Get in the bedroom and I’ll get out the IV bag.”

So I did, sitting on the edge of Tyler’s bed, my bare feet on the carpet now, my silky boxers against the silky bedspread, which felt so good on my thighs.  I squeezed my cock again through my boxers as I waited for him.  He had the stuff so it would be ok.  Just one more squeeze, I thought, one more rub of my cockhead with my fingers through the fabric.

And then I couldn’t take it anymore.  I thought it would be hot to surprise Tyler, in a way, with how out of control and right down to the wire this had gotten.  So i slid down my boxers, kicking them aside, and started stroking my cock then and there on his bed, long, slow strokes.  I leaned my head back.  “Tyler, get in here,” I said.  “Hurry up.”

Tyler was still digging around and then he came in, IV bag in hand.  “Dude, what are you doing?” he said, setting it down on the table.

“Don’t set it down, hook me up,” I said.  “This is hot.  Fuck.  I’m feeling so fucked up, man.  I’m just so horny.”

“Ok, I gotta get the bag still,” he said, heading back out, and then he was laughing.  The little fucker actually laughed!

For some reason, the thought that I actually might end up stuck this way was just turning me on even more.  So I almost moaned out loud, feeling like a dumb bull, stroking my cock some more.  I’d go out and force Tyler to fix me up in few seconds.  Just a few more strokes.

I mean, this was hot, this was really hot, and what a rush to bring it so close to the edge.  But I couldn’t really stay a dumb jock dude like this for good, could I?

That would be just crazy.  Fuck, the thought of it was so hot though.  This had been just like what I’d imagined happening so many times, only it finally was happening, and the thought of not stopping it seemed hot, too.

You’re turning into a real meathead, I thought, and I was just beating off harder and faster now, my cock leaking pre all over.

I forced myself to stop.

I couldn’t be a meathead, or if I ever wanted to return to this, I could later.  For now I needed the blockers so that it doesn’t even up permanent.  I needed the clarity antidote.  I needed that fucker Tyler to do what I told him to do.

Otherwise this would be me from now on.  Dumb and jocked.  Fuck.

And man, even if I didn’t get to Tyler in time, and something still goes wrong, which it probably wouldn’t because I could so easily overpower him now, well, so what, that could be hot as shit.  At least for a while, or whatever.  I dunno, man, I was thinking so many conflicting thoughts at once.  I decided to just ignore my cock and stand up, so I did.  I picked my boxers up and stepped back into them, difficult as that was to do in the moment.  I needed my boxers on so that Tyler would take me seriously.  Plus my cock was dripping pre, which I noticed as pulled up my boxers, a spot spreading on them almost right away because the head of my cock was already so wet.

So what if I am this way, a hot muscle stud, because lots of guys want to be a hot muscle stud.  I was thinking that as I headed into the living room.

Man, what if I really do stay this way, a hot muscle stud forever, I was worrying, but my cock was still hard about it.  Yeah, that could be a real turn-on, I thought.  I was stroking my dick again as I walked into the living room.

What was I doing?  Aww, fuck.  I had to focus on Tyler now.  I could beat off later, I thought.  But I was looking down at my body, and all I could think about was my body and how hot I was feeling right now.  If I was turning stupid, that was hot too.  Fuck.  There’s more important things than being smart.

Fuck.  Look at this body, dude, I thought.  I’m fuckin’ hot!  Isn’t that what matters right now?  Just for a few more minutes.  Then he’d IV bag me up and it’d be all good.  I still had control, I thought.

I had to tell Tyler.

“Tyler, I’m fucking hot, man!” I said to him as I bounded, almost stumbling, into the living room.  I was hard in my boxer shorts and I wanted him to see it.

“Yeah, you are pretty hot.  How are you feeling, dumbass?” “Don’t call me dumbass, dude.  We gotta do this, still.  But I do feel fucking hot!”

“Say it again.”

“I feel fucking hot?”

“Yeah, dumbass.  Look at you, you’re fucking naked.  How’s that not stupid?”

“Because it’s not?” I laughed, admitting in my own mind that it was kind of dumb, sexy as it was.  I was naked and feeling good, that was for sure.  I was a hot dude.

Tyler was laughing too, and he wasn’t even making any move to fix me up.  That kind of concerned me.  It also kind of was funny.  It also kind of turned me on.

“Fuck, I was getting afraid we really would have to give you the antidote.  But now all you mostly feel upstairs right now is that meat mind, don’t you?”

“Fuck, dude, I think you’re right.  What are you saying?  Fuck, I do feel pretty messed up.  It’s a hot kind of messed up, though.”

“Dude, you’re leaking pre right through your boxers,” Tyler said.  “Why don’t you strip them off for me before you get them messed up?”

“You want to see this body naked?” I said, shooting Tyler a cocky grin, letting him know who’s in charge.  “I’m not afraid of getting naked.  Watch this, dude,” I said, yanking down my boxers and stepping out of them, and then throwing them on Tyler’s lap as I laughed.  “There’s a spot of pre for you.”

“Hot, dude.  Look at that thick cock.” “This thick cock?” I said, wrapped my hands around it.  “Man, yeah, I love this thick cock.  I can jack it for you, bud.  Bet you’d love that.”

“Jack it, dumbass.”

“I told you I’m not a dumbass, dude,” I said back, turning my eyes to my cock, wrapping both hands around it and starting to work the shaft.

“Dude, it feels hot to get stupid.  It’s ok.  You like being called a dumbass.  Just admit it.”

“Maybe I do,” I said, winking at him, feeling like he could call me that all he wants as long as I’m the one who’s turning him on.  I felt so hot.  I really kind of wanted to grip him in a headlock and get him slurping on my dick right then and there.

“Yeah, dumbass?  Look at you, you dumb muscle stud.  You’re just another dumb jock guy now.”

“Maybe I am,” I said, stepping closer to Tyler now, pointing my cock straight at him.  “You like guys like that, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Tyler said, looking at my cock now as I beat off in front of him.

“Mmm, fuck yeah you do, bud,” I said, stroking my cock firmly with both hands, taking another step closer to him.  “Made me a big hulking dumbass.  How do you like me now, little guy?”

“I fucking love you like this,” Tyler said.

“Yeah bud?  I love me like this, too.  Fuck..  I feel dumb as fuck.”

“Aww, hell yeah,” Tyler said, his own hand down his shorts, playing with his own cock too.

“Dumb as fuck, man.  I can feel it.” “I can tell, dude.  Holy fuck, you’re hot.” “I am pretty hot, aren’t I?  Just think about how hot you’ll be if you do this, too,” I said.  That was an exciting thought to me, the thought of Tyler hulking up to my level and experiencing it for himself.

“Aww man,” Tyler said, “maybe that would be hot.”

“You know it would,” I said casually.  I was getting so close to busting.

“Mmm, yeah,” Tyler said then, really jerking himself fast now.

“I’ve gotta get off, aww fuck,” I blurted then, and then I was already spurting jets of cum all over Tyler’s face, and he was leaning back on the couch and moaning out loud, beating himself off in his shorts.  It took him about half a minute and then he was cumming in his shorts right there, a dark wet stain spreading on them before me.

I laughed.  “Dude, look at your shorts!  Holy shit!”

For some reason it was hilarious to me.

“Tyler, you gotta fucking do this bro, I really want you to do this,” I remember saying later that night, kissing him on the lips, even as scrawny as he was, just because the thought of having the guy who did this awesome shit to me experience it himself would be so hot.

“Tyler, dude, we could be boyfriends or fuckbuddies or musclesex buddies or whatever the fuck we’d be if you just do it yourself, too.  It feels so fucking good.  I just want you to be here like this with me, go through it with me.  You have to man.  You did this to me so you have to.”

“Fuck, ok ok,” Tyler said.  “I mean, seeing you like this, knowing I think it’s hot too… well, it is so hot.  Let me suck your cock, dude, and I’ll make plans to go through the process myself sometime.

“Tomorrow, dude, you have to tomorrow just so you don’t overthink this.”

“Ok, I’ll start on it tomorrow, damn, I mean that’s really fast, though.”

“Promise me, Tyler,” I said, leaning down to his him again.  “Please, promise me.  You have to.”

“Ok, fuck.  Damn.  This is crazy but yeah.  You’re hot.  How can I deny a guy as hot as you?  It’s just crazy, but I did to this to you.  I have fantasied about it a lot myself.  And just seeing you now, seeing how amazing this all is, I think I will.  I really will, as big of a leap as that is.  I promise you.”

Tyler sucked my cock again all that night, and all I could think as I looked down at the scrawny dude sucking my fat dick was that he’d be so much fucking hotter when he actually goes through with this, and that just the thought of him going through with it was so hot that… uh, yeah I mean, you know.

I came hard down his throat, pushing his head down on my cock and calling him a dumbass the whole time, said he’s gonna be just another dumb jock dude, and he chugged my whole milkshake, dude.

I tried to think of what it all meant.  Dumb wasn’t a bad thing.  Wasn’t it a Nirvana song or something even?  A jock, hell, a jock strap was hot and I’d have to start wearing a lot of them. I could already picture myself in them.  And guy, hey, everyone’s a guy, right.  It’s all good, dude.

“You have to, dude.  You have to,” I said again, and we cuddled up in Tyler’s bed, my huge body wrapped around his scrawny one, lightly feeling up his arms and his legs, thinking about how hot he was gonna be when he gets like me.

“I will,” Tyler said.  “Promise.”

Getting Comfortable

“Wait! Lemme get a little more comfortable before we hit the road,” Rhett chirped giddily in a high southern accent as he snatched the jeans and t-shirt out of his bag in the backseat. His small, pale, twig-like body flung out of the car in a hurry.

“For fuck sake Rhett, it’s an hour and a half to Nashville, how ‘comfortable’ you need to get?! We’re gonna be late to the show!” Tanner snapped angrily from the driver’s seat in a deep Tennessean accent. He’s been a fan of this particular band for as long as he could remember and wasn’t going to let Rhett fuck it up. He had always been the more alpha of the two of them: more body and facial hair (hell, any body and facial hair), deeper voice, loads of friends and admirers, thicker build. But that didn’t mean Tanner was some good ol’ boy hard ass. His politics emphasized justice, he tried his best to be an ally, and he even fancied himself sexually liberated, not really ascribing to any labels. They’d known each other since they were roughly the same size, but their bond didn’t have trouble lasting through their drastically different physical developments. Tanner and Rhett were inseparable. They’d been friends for years and years, and let’s face it, Rhett always needed someone caring enough but stern enough as Tanner to look after him.

“Just a sec, won’t take long!”

Tanner threw his hands up and leaned back against the headrest, rolling his eyes at Rhett’s delay. He reclined in the seat and rubbed his eyes, not excited to travel an hour and a half, but looking forward to the destination. He just hoped Rhett would hurry up inside.

Tanner lowered his hands and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Rhett was standing just outside the car door and he had already removed his shirt. He was lowering his shorts quickly, exposing his pale, flat ass and his limp, weak dick.

“RHETT, the fuck?!!” Tanner yelled from the driver’s seat. He brought his voice down, but to a sharp, stinging hiss, “Fuck, man, you tryna get busted for indecent exposure?! Jesus H. Christ, man…”

“Chill chill chill chill chill…” Rhett responded in a carefree, sing-song voice, busying himself with his dressing/undressing and dismissing Tanner’s scolding.

Tanner threw his hands up again and brought him down forcefully on the steering wheel.

“Almost done,” Rhett reassured as he lowered the blue jeans down and stepped into them without any underwear. He wiggled each foot through the sleeves of the fabric and pulled them up. They wore pretty damn high on his waist and seemed several sizes too big for him. “And now…” he buttoned the pants at the waist, but still had to hold up the pants to keep them from falling.

Tanner didn’t want to mentioned how clownish he looked in the jeans as risk of hurting his friend’s feelings, “Good, then put the damn shirt on and get your ass in the—“

“Hhhuurrrrrnnnnnnggggghhh…”

As Rhett grunted, Tanner could see him rise up, gaining several inches in height in seconds, seemingly out of thin air. Tanner’s jaw dropped.

Rhett cocked his head down to see into the car, “Just give me one more minute, bud, I gotta-UUhhhrrrrrnnnnnggghh…”

As Rhett grunted again, Tanner watched as he inexplicably gained more height, several more inches than the last time, shit maybe even a full foot. It was hard for any 23 year old to be 5’4”, which was one of Rhett’s many crosses to bear, but Tanner guessed he could easily be around 6’7” or 6’8”. Fuck, his friend grew well over a foot, in seconds.

Tanner swallowed hard, “Rhett… Man, what’s—“

Tanner couldn’t see Rhett’s head anymore. The jeans at least looked to be the right length on his body, but Tanner saw Rhett hold his still-too-large pants up with his hands gripping the waist of the jeans, “Now, just hold your horses, Tanner, damn, just a couple more—Oh, HHRRRRNNG, Uuuuuuuhhhhh…”

Tanner felt himself chub up as Rhett’s body suddenly started to swell all over as he made his vocalizations. His body filled up well, muscles pressing up against flat, almost emmaciated skin, which deepened to a slightly darker color, as if he was gaining more health, just slightly sun kissed. Tanner could start to see, just barely, the jeans making contact with the shape of his legs for the first time. From Tanner’s vantage, it looked as though Rhett did a modest amount of gym work, maybe 1 or 2 times per week, which Tanner knew for a fact Rhett never did.

“Ah, almost there, like a said, just a couple… more…. HHHhhhhhuuuuuUUURRRNNNGGHH!…”

Tanner was at full mast as Rhett swelled up even more, his modestly muscled body gaining mass at an unbelievable rate, his vocalizations seemingly encouraging his growth. Rhett could let go of the waist of his pants, as his legs slowly filled out the jeans some more, stopping their growth when the jeans were about one size too big. The pants were caught from falling on his ample ass, which had swelled up to an impressive rounded shelf that slightly jutted out from behind him, and exposed the root of his cock and the light blonde whisps of his pubic hair. This time, Tanner could hear bones crack dully from the outside of his car, as Rhett’s body broadened to accommodate his growth. His abdominals and pecs pulsed larger and his waist tapered down to a V, which Tanner always found so sexy on dudes. His skin rid itself of any and all imperfections and deepened even darker in color. Fuck, Rhett developed a proper swimmer’s body in a matter of seconds! How in the hell was this happ—

“One more,” Rhett panted with effort. “One more second, I.. Oh…. I just—aww fuck—I just… gotta… UUUUUUUURRRRRRRNNNGGGGGGGHHHH!!!”

Tanner started absentmindedly, slowly stroking his dick over his shorts as Rhett’s body entered its final stage of growth. Tanner heard the fastest and most pronounced series of bones cracking and shifting as Rhett expanded even more. His skin deepened to a golden, spotless tan. His legs swelled larger and larger, looking like he could effortlessly crush a watermelon between his thighs. It looked like the jeans were painted on his body, hugging every curve. Speaking of curves, his ass swelled even larger, pulling the jeans tight around his impressive glutes. The tightness didn’t help the next developement, as Tanner saw the root of his cock began to pulse and his crotch began to twitch. With each pulse, Tanner saw the root of his cock plump thicker, thicker, thicker, thicker, leaving Rhett with an imposing cock the size of a Red Bull tall boy. His bulge fattened up nicely as well, as Tanner watched Rhett’s balls make large mounds in pants that were already tight as hell. Rhett grabbed onto the waist of the jeans and pulled them up to relieve his wedding tackle of the tightness his ass created, bouncing a little to make sure all his bits were settled in. With his bouncing, Tanner saw his pecs pound hard and thicken into rock hard slabs. His arms, still gripping the waist of his pants, pulsed and bulged and hardened into a set of guns that would rival Captain America’s. Fuck, Tanner had such a weak spot for arms. Finally, his abs cut into sculpted ridges and his waist developed the most mouthwatering set of cum gutters Tanner had ever seen. Rhett was now over a foot taller, and several feet broader than he was just maybe a full minute ago. Just from what Tanner could see from his vantage, Rhett could model anywhere, he’d be scouted in a heartbeat.

“Woooo!!!” Rhett yelled out enthusiastically to the sky and the (thankfully) empty parking lot as he bucked his hips, flexed his abs, and pumped his guns.

Tanner realized he hadn’t taken a breath for several seconds and inhaled deeply, feeling like he was a hair trigger away from busting all over himself and his car.

He swallowed hard, “Uh, Rhett—“

“I know, I know, Tanner,” Rhett answered in his still-high Tennessean accent, his head still obscured by the limits of Tanner’s viability from inside his car, thanks to Rhett’s massive gain in height. He started slipping on the blue shirt, which moments ago would’ve been way too big on his body, “‘Put on the goddamn shirt and get in the car,’ ya don’t hafta repeat yourself.” He pulled the shirt down from over his head.

“No, dude, it’s—“

Tanner was interrupted by another dull series of cracks, as if bones were breaking and shifting under bags of cloth, hearing Rhett grunt slightly, and seeing Rhett’s new godly pecs and his thick neck twitch. Finally, Rhett let out a hard, wet cough, cleared his throat, and Tanner watched his upper body pivot as he spit away from the car, hearing a heavy, wet slap against the pavement.

At last, Rhett swung one foot in and lowered himself into Tanner’s passenger seat. His face was sharper, more angular, and just downright more sexy and handsome. His hair was thicker, his skin was flawless. Everything, literally all things about this new creature that lowered himself into Tanner’s car bared all resemblance to the Rhett Tanner had always know, except if you took Rhett’s fuckability meter and cranked it up to 1000 and ripped out the dial. He was a fucking hunk, in literally every sense of the word.

Rhett pulled his sleeve back as he entered, knowing it would send Tanner over the edge.

“Alright, let’s move, cowboy,” Rhett said, grinning perfect teeth at Tanner, his voice an impossibly deep bass laced with a thick southern drawl.

“Rhett—!” Tanner moaned and gripped on hard to the steering wheel, cut off by his cock exploding inside his pants, without touching it at all. He moaned louder than he ever had in an orgasm, and veins popped in his arms while gripping the steering wheel as he bucked his hips, his cock still erupting thick volleys of cum.

Rhett, still grinning and chuckling while Tanner voided his balls. He was loving the impact he was having on his friend that he had always seen as a hell of a stud, and decided to give Tanner’s ‘no-hands’ ejaculation the parting shot it deserved. He took his strong hand, turned Tanner’s head towards him, and covered his mouth with his lucious, pillowy lips, shoving his new wider, thicker, longer tongue down Tanner’s throat. Tanner moaned into Rhett’s mouth as one last powerful shot burst out of his cock head.

Tanner was still gripping the steering wheel, heaving panting breaths, “Rhett, buddy, what the hell happened to you?”

“What, ya don’ like it?” Rhett asked with a feigned insultedness. He grinned and flexed his arm a bit more for Tanner’s pleasure.

“Nahnahnahnah, s’not like that at all, but like…. FUCK, man, you got a fuckin’ god bod! You’re a goddamn stud, man! How?!”

“Appreciate it, brother,” Rhett responded in his new, deep, drawling bass with a small blush and settled into his seat. He leaned his head against the seat and rolled his head to look back at Tanner with his hyponitizing green eyes, “You know that woodsy, spiritual shit you’re always giving me guff over?”

Tanner thought for a second, then cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in disbelief at Rhett. Rhett beared his pearly teeth and then spread his arms out, as if presenting his new body.

“No. Fuckin’. Shit.”

“‘Fraid so, my guy,” Rhett responded proudly. “Tried out this ritual last night. Didn’t have a lotta confidence in it, but figured what the hell. Hadta soak these britches and the shirt in this oily solution and let it dry, but once it did,” he displayed his body again as Tanner forced out a few disbelieving chuckles. “Took a helluva lotta self-control to not lose myself in hours and hours of self pleasure…”

“Shit, man, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. Why didn’t you?” Tanner asked admirably with a small laugh, picturing the image of Rhett writhing around on his floor all night, busting nut after nut, worshiping himself. Fuck.

Rhett lowered his head and went somber for a second, “‘Cus once I bust one lookin’ like this, all this,” he punctuated his words by gesturing up and down his new bod with his hand, “is here to stay.” he smirked at Tanner.

Tanner started chubbing up again, and chuckled, “Well, shit, brother, what’s the hold up?!”

Rhett’s smirk dropped and he looked dead in Tanner’s eyes, “Well, ‘cus I wanna do it with you, man.” Rhett started unbuttoning his jeans.

Tanner’s cock flooded with blood, “… Rhett, dude, I—“ Rhett lowered his zipper, “I don’t—“ Rhett pulled out his thick, uncut trouser snake and let it flop against his torso, and son of a bitch it was even bigger than Tanner imagined, “… uh, fuck, know what—“ Rhett spat into his hand and stroked as his cock thickened even more (if that were possible) and pointed straight up, his cock head beginning to peek through his foreskin, “—what to say, I…”

“Just suck it, dude, you know you want to.”

Tanner’s breath heavied. Should he? He looked at the cock. He’d never seen a boy’s dick look so goddamn inviting. He licked his lips. This was really happening.

“Fuck it.”

Tanner threw himself over the driver/passenger divider and eagerly took Rhett’s cock into his mouth and started bobbing his head and sucking with animal intensity. He reached his hand up to Rhett’s new, sculpted tits and squeezed, greedily groping his impressive rack.

“Yeah, man, get yourself a handfula that.”

Tanner gave a blowjob that would put to shame any bj he’d received in his own life, and Tanner was no slouch. Rhett grit his teeth and groaned with ecstasy, his powerful hand running through and gripping his friend’s thick, dark hair. He grinded his hips against his best friend’s face and ran his other hand and meaty arm down Tanner’s back caressing him, reaching under his shorts to squeeze his ass and play with his hole with his new, thick fingers.

“Awww, FUCK, bro, yeah keep suckin’, I gotta little surprise churnin’ in these fuckin’ sacks just for you, my man, awww fuuuckk yeah keep suckin’…”

Tanner obediently sucked, very eager to please his friend. Rhett speeded his grinding against Tanner’s face, his lower abs pressing into the side of Tanner’s head. Tanner could feel Rhett’s mushroom tip swell in the back of his throat, fuck he’s about to nut.

Tanner started to pull off Rhett’s dick, but Rhett forced his head back down, “Aww no man, you gotta take this, gotta little something special, get fuckin’ ready, I’m gonna-gonna-HHHHUUUURRRRNNNGGG!!”

Rhett groaned deeply, his head tilted back and veins protruding out of his thick neck as he unloaded a massive cum dump into Tanner’s throat and mouth. Tanner’s eyes watered as he felt hot, fresh jizz fire down his throat and fill up his mouth until his cheeks were bulging. Rhett took deep, heaving breaths, his huge chest rising and falling, wet sweat darkening his shirt around his neck and under his pits, his face glistened in the light and beads dripped from his hair. Then, like an electric jolt, he felt a cool, fizzing pulse flow through his body. Something changed. He was new. He let out a shuddering, emotional moan. This was Rhett now, he mused. Rhett with the ‘god bod.’

Rhett realized just then, in his euphoric bliss, that he was still holding Tanner’s face against his spent crotch.

“Whoops, sorry there, buddy. But I need you to listen real careful, y’understand?” Tanner furrowed his brow and grunted, Rhett still lodged deep inside his mouth/throat and his seed sloshing around his mouth. Something was off, though… Rhett’s spooge tasted strangely sweet like fruit, and fresh like pine needles, and he could feel it swirl hot and bright, like stardust. “I needja to drink all that baby batter down for me, think ya can do it?” Tanner nodded enthusiastically. “Awright, aww fuck man you ain’t gonna regret this!”

Rhett moaned as he felt the muscles in Tanner’s throat contract and release again and again as Tanner swallowed and swallowed. It took him 4 separate swallows to get all that fuckin jizz down, but the taste made it more than easy. He lifted off Rhett’s cock with a wet *sluuuurrpPOP* and Rhett shivered.

Tanner wiped his lips and chin and crashed back into his driver’s seat, “Jesus H. Christ, Rhett, you are somethin’ else,” Rhett just shrugged and flexed. “So whadya reckon happens now?”

“Well,” Rhett began as he zipped up and buttoned his pants again. “We do have a show to get to.”

Tanner paused then laughed dumbly, “Damn, that completely jumped my mind,” *guuurrgle* Tanner felt his stomach turn. “Then after that?”

“Well, man,” Rhett stared off, “I’m thinkin’ stay in Nashville.”

“Stay??” *guuuuuuurrrrrrrgle* Tanner felt and heard something turn in his stomach. What the fuck?

“Yeah, bro, stay! New me, new city, ya know?” Tanner’s stomach gave off another heavy, loud gurgle. Rhett continued, “Maybe try my hand at music. Always did love singin’.”

“Well you got the voice and the body for music now, that’s for goddamn sure!” the two laughed but Tanner felt another massive turn in his stomach, this one making him shake in his seat. Rhett stared at him greedily, biting his lip. Tanner gave out a nervous chuckle, “Say Rhett, why were you so insistent on me drinkin’ you down?”

Rhett grinned, “Well, ‘cus I want you to stay there with me, babe.”

“Wh—“ Tanner began but was stopped by another gurgling started, only this time, it didn’t stop. With his eyes wide, Tanner, already a modestly swole, tall-ish individual, began to swell steadily. It started in his neck, as it swelled and hardened, widening to a thickness similar to his thighs in his present state. “*grrrrrrgle* Shit, Rhett, what’s you do to me?” He made concerned eyes at Rhett, but Rhett just leaned back watching him, smirking and nodding at him slowly. Tanner returned with a grin, albeit a slightly nervous grin. “Awww, fuckkkkk *ggurrrrrgggg*

Tanner next felt his shoulders and back broaden, causing the threads in his flannel to snap and the seams to tear. Tanner was always keen on wearing tight clothes, but as his shoulders, arms, pecs, and abs began to slowly inflate like he was a giant balloon, a symphony of rips and tears sounded through the car as his swelling skin peeked through dozens of holes in his flannel. Rhett squeezed his own pecs and teased his nipples with his thumbs, taking in open-mouthed breaths of air, never taking an eye off his swelling new lover. As his stomach kept turning, Tanner turned a renewed confident eye to Rhett and smiled slyly. His stretching and growing hands grabbed onto the front of his flannel, and with bulging new arm muscles, he yanked sharply with a feral grunt as the flannel exploded off him in shreds, he yanked both of the sleeves off too to free his massive arms. All that was left was one of Tanner’s loose tanks he always wore under his clothing, his skin retaining the sexy dusting of hair all over him. He tossed the torn fabric over to Rhett, who brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, rubbing his crotch and moaning, still not taking an eye off Tanner, who was swelling so large he started to seem too wide for his seat. Tanner leaned back and lifted his hands behind his head to grip the headrest, his broad triceps bulging over his hairy pits. He braced himself for the next part he could feel coming.

“MMMMMmmmrrrrrfffffff….” Tanner bucked his hips and flexed his ass as he felt it round and firm up under him, lifting him a bit higher off the seat. His thighs thudded into sinewy tree trunks and he clenched his teeth at his calves lengthened and hardened, giving him about 4 more inches in height. His new massive ass and his tree trunk thighs compounded to make his gym shorts appear like way-too-tight boxer briefs. With its tightness, opaque, white jizz rose to the surface and pooled from Tanner’s ejaculation earlier. With his shorts as tight as they were, Rhett had a perfect view for the next part. “OOOOOoooooooohhhhh…” Tanner winced and moaned, closing his eyes, as Rhett saw Tanner’s cock and balls swell and fatten and bulge and rise and thicken against the taut fabric of his gym shorts. His junk now formed three massive lumps that pressed hard against the front of the shorts.

Finally, Tanner let out satisfied groans as he felt his jawbone sharpen and point. He felt the movement across his mouth as his lips involuntarily puckered, giving him a great set of fuckable lips. He again retained the sexy dusting of hair on his face as before, but he felt the hair on top of his head straighten but thicken, giving him a naturally styled, quaff.

He turned and looked at Rhett, who was slack-jawed and sweaty in the passenger’s seat staring at him, Rhett’s thick rod, hard and long, pressed against the fabric of the jeans. Tanner was proud to be the one to make this blonde model hunk bone up.

Tanner smacked his lips, “Well, fuck, Rhett, I’d say you got some pretty potent cream.”

“Hhhaaaaaaaaaa…” Rhett moaned with a deep as hell bass and a slack-jawed grin as his jeans darkened with spurting wet spots from the tip of the bulge his cock made.

“Shit, man, you had s’more of that hulk-out juice and you ain’t gonna share? Gimme some,” Tanner goofily reached a finger across and scooped some of Rhett’s jizz that he seeped through the jeans, grazing Rhett’s still-hard cock and making him shudder, and brought it to his lips, sucking his finger.

“‘Fraid not, brother, that’s all me,” Rhett said panting, grabbing some napkins out of the glove box and wiping himself off. “Plus I think we’re both gonna be cummin’ like hydrants, my guess is that our regeneration cycles have sped up like 1000%.” Rhett tugged at his crotch as though relieving his overworked balls. He paused before his next thought, “I neglected to mention that the ritual gives your last nut has these ‘special properties’ or whatever. I’d assume most guys just slurp up their own spooge, ya know, give ‘emselves a boost on toppa what they’re already gettin’… Sorry I spooked ya… wanted it to be a surprise.” Rhett scratched the back of his head and blushed.

“Woodsy, spiritual shit…” Tanner mused admiringly.

“Woodsy, spiritual shit.” Rhett confirmed with confident nods.

If that’s the case and it really worked with this kind of success, they’re gonna have to take advantage it way more. Tanner was in love with Rhett, he just realized. Nashville, huh? All he could think about was the drug scene he’d been told about there (well, that and of course the music business. Dude’s popping those little black pills and doing all sorts of things. He couldn’t see why he and Rhett would need them anyways, now that they looked like this. Nah, they would keep each other grounded, they cared for each other too much. He’s never really been one to enjoy the big city, but he was more than happy to give it a shot with his friend. His best friend. And his lover.

Tanner leaned in, “Well, consider me very pleasantly surprised,” he turned Rhett towards him and tenderly kissed him, “and very pleasantly spooked,” he kissed him tenderly again, “and very happy to join you.” Rhett’s eyes lit up and he grinned widely with excitement. “Let’s do this, babe.”

Their tongues interlocked as they exchanged one last big smooch.

“Now, let’s get this show on the road,” Tanner stated as he turned the key in the ignition, starting up the car. “Against all odds, we still got time to catch the show tonight!”

He and Rhett chuckled. Some outlaw country crooner belted deeply from the radio, ‘That’s gonna be Rhett,’ Tanner thought, knowing it to be true in his heart. He drove out of the parking lot and headed to the freeway, rolling the windows. Rhett looked over confused as the cool air passed through the cabin.

“Got to smelling like a Turkish bathhouse sauna in here, if y’know what I mean.” Tanner responded plainly.

The two erupted in laughter. Silence fell over them for a second.

Rhett broke the silence, “Y’want some road head?”

“Fuck, yes, man, thought you’d never ask!” Tanner answered immediately with childlike enthusiasm.

The two started tried to work Tanner’s shorts off of him, but they only budged slightly due to the tightness.

“Ah, fuck it.” Tanner said as he gripped one side of the shorts and tugged sharply, causing it to split wide open, his new, massive cock springing and slapping his lower torso. Rhett grabbed it and brought it into his mouth, immediately going to work with his skillful, large tongue.

Tanner writhed and grunted in pleasure. Shame about the shorts, but he had to buy all new clothes anyways.

Some clothes, a new job (mechanic? He’d always loved fixing cars and getting dirty), a new apartment, develop a new routine, and buy new supplements to maintain their physiques for his new life with his new lover.

Cross Contamination

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I’m fucking furious. To most people Jack Wilson is a hockey hotshot, but to me he is just my wife’s ex that can’t let go. She said they had another encounter, but wouldn’t go into details, saying it wasn’t just his fault. She couldn’t help herself, she said. Knowing how much she loathes him I suspect she was afraid of him turning violent. He is a star athlete after all, known to have punched more than a few players on the ice.

I know he’s training at the stadium right now. That’s how bad it has gotten, that I even know his schedule. I’m probably speeding getting there, but nothing else is important right now. I park the car in the huge, but almost empty parking. Neverending slabs of concrete to allow for the cars of thousands of cheering fans during game day. Well, I’m certainly not a fan. Still fuming as I exit the car and heading towards the arena I see him and a few others from his team running towards the same building from across the car park. They must be out for cardio or something. I stop and shout towards them “Hey! Jack!”

I can see them slow down a little, Jack saying something to them, and then breaking apart jogging in my direction while they continue at speed towards the stadium building. I remain still, just glaring at him as he closes in on me. He slows down quite a bit away and saunters towards me, still panting. He has an aura of smug superiority. He’s good looking, despite his matted, sweaty hair and week-old beard. It’s not just because he’s in top shape, but he has that classic athlete chin cut, and mesmerizing eyes to go with it too. He’s quite a bit shorter than me, and way denser and muscled, but I would bet my weekly martial arts practice can match him if needed. “Hey, cocksucker! You managed to find your way here,” he yells back at me.

“I want you to know…” “Shut up”

I don’t know why, but I can’t look away from his intense eyes. It’s like they can see into me, see every part of me. I’m frozen in place just watching him getting closer. “I said hey cocksucker. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and suck my cock.” He says this as calmly as he can, never breaking eye contact. I don’t think he blinks. I don’t think I blink. I slowly go down on my knees,  grabbing the hem of his sweatpants, and pull down. I still keep eye contact, so I have to feel my way for the waistband of his underwear to pull it down too. I can feel the heat radiate from his steaming body. There’s a smell of sweat, not the stale, musky kind, but from someone who showers every day and uses fresh clothes for each workout. He’s professional and they got staff. I can hear his heavy breath as he is still recovering from the sprint. And I can feel a rather large cock in front of me that is erect, or at least a good way there. I grab it in my hands and guide the tip to my lips and begin to lick it. It doesn’t really taste of much. I open my mouth and get more and more of his compression shirt wrapped abs and pecs in my view as I stare into his deep eyes, and take his big cock deeper and deeper into my mouth.

The tip reaches some point at the back of my mouth and I start to gag, making horrendous gurgling noises. I move back from him. “All the way. I want to be balls deep down your throat, cocksucker.” I do as he commands, and push it in again, further. It’s somehow much easier this time and my lips are tickled by his moist bush of pubes. I then start to work it, in and out, in and out. The noise I’m making is still horrendous. A wet, sloshy sound, and I hate it. “Yeah, you like that, cocksucker. Now, faster.” I grab him by the hip and increase the pace. I get lost in the actions, like nothing matters but his cock, the noise, and his eyes.

I don’t know for how long I was in a trance, but I feel him tensing up, pulling me tight to him, and shooting a big load of his cum down my throat. Suddenly the gaze that had held me like a vice breaks and he looks at my face rather than into my eyes. The spell is broken. I’m kneeling in a parking lot with Jack Wilson’s cock down my throat, and my nose nuzzled into his pubes. His eyes suddenly widen, and his face turns into horror, like he is looking at a monster. Everything is going like in slow motion. I begin to push him away, to get his disgusting cock out of my mouth as he shoots his second load. Somehow in shock I manage to breathe in his cum. He pulls away from me as well, and his third load ends up just next to me on the concrete. “Fuck!” he says, visibly upset. “It’s still in the bloodstream. Spit it out! Spit it out!”

I’m not sure I even have any in my mouth to spit out. It just went straight into my belly and into my lungs. Lungs that are desperately trying to cough up his spunky goo in phlegm-filled, deep whoops. “Fuck!” he shouts one last time, pulls up his sweatpants, and runs towards the Stadium building with one hand holding the pants up. I’m just folded over on my knees coughing and coughing while my mind is racing to make sense of what just happened. My chest is burning and I feel nauseated. There is the salty, bitter taste of cum in my mouth and a stench of athlete sweat as I gasp for air in between the coughs. I keep coughing, but less and less of substance is coming up. I spit out specks of Jack’s spunk on the concrete in front of me, and realize what she had meant when she said she couldn’t help herself. Did he fuck her? After what just happened I wouldn’t put anything past Jack, and there is literally nothing I wouldn’t forgive her for having done. She would have been helpless to stop.

I can feel my whole body burning as I get up from the concrete. I’m very aware how my clothes rubs against my body, like my senses have just gone into overdrive. Everything, every single muscle in my body feels sore. My head is spinning. Still coughing I stagger towards my car and get in behind the wheels. As I close the door the world goes silent. I can only hear my own exhausted panting. I’m confused about what is happening and feel sick as shit, but at least the world isn’t spinning anymore. Somehow I must have been poisoned. What did he mean with “in the bloodstream?”

I start the car and carefully drive from the parking lot and out in the direction of home. Perhaps I shouldn’t be driving at all. Crashing while driving is worse than crashing while sitting in a parking lot, but I really don’t want to have to call anyone for help. Not after what I’ve just been through. I so sympathize with the movie cliché of a girl sobbing in the shower. I only want to cleanse myself in any way possible. To get rid of Jack from me. Even now I can feel the smell of athletic sweat, like it was clinging on to me.

There is a big pop accompanied by one of the chest buttons on my shirt shooting off in the car. The pop isn’t so much heard as felt, as a reverberation in my body like someone just punched me in the chest, with dull spikes of pain in the joints. I swerve dangerously close to the side of the road. It feels like my shoulders pops into their sockets, like my chest just suddenly expands and the rest of my body catches up. There is no mirror I can look in, but I can clearly see something is off just by looking down at my body. What little movement I can make while driving the car feels different.

There is another big shift. Knees and hip joints this time, I think. I’m a little more prepared to handle that one without swerving, but this time I’m instead missing the brake pedal like the seat is set wrong. I scoot forward on the seat and reach the pedal. Now I’m getting real nervous what is happening. I’m almost home though, but I can feel my thigh muscles involuntarily flexing, my feet are hurting, and my stomach is gurgling like bad plumbing.

Her car is not home yet, thank God. I park mine as calmly as I can, screaming inside that I need to get inside and see what the fuck is going on. As I step out of the car I get a first inkling about the enormity of the changes. I almost trip stepping out of the car, and sit down again on the edge of the seat. The fabric on the trousers are straining, and I realize that my feet are probably hurting because they have swollen up inside the shoes. I try to kick off one of the sneakers, but it’s stuck enough that I have to untie them. My movements feel off. It’s not that it is hard to move. The opposite in fact, but different somehow. Me feet thanks me in relief as they are freed,

With the shoes off I awkwardly make my way into the house and step into the nearest bathroom. It’s me in the mirror, of course, but me 5-10 years younger. I’m touching my face in disbelief. But this isn’t just me regressed a decade in time. I was way taller than this then. Curious I unbutton the remaining buttons on my shirt and throw it on the floor. The chest and abs are not me 5-10 years ago. I’ve never looked this buff before. For one I’ve never had washboard abs, and the pecs and shoulders are wide and meaty. The arms more slender, though still muscular, and the core is built more for function than aesthetics. A bit too dense for the show off V shape. Dense, with a low center of gravity.

It’s the body of a hockey player.

I rip off the straining trousers and the socks. Sure enough, massive leg muscles, big thighs, big ass, big feet. Jack the fucking cheater is a fraud in all areas. Whatever the fuck he is taking must have concentrated in his balls, shot into my lungs, and from there gone straight into my bloodstream to do whatever the fuck it’s done to me. And there is nothing I can do to hurt him with it. Who would believe me? This is so far from any science I’ve heard of.

I take a closer look in the mirror again. Perhaps it isn’t all bad after all.

LifeX: Beta testing

                                                       —–

Hi everyone :) here is my first story. I’ve been around tumblr for a long time but never felt enough confident to publish my own stories. But being in this weird period of lockdown and forced to stay home, here is my first story. The pictures are not mine and I’ve found them on tumblr, so they belong to you, send me a message and I’ll take them down.

Hope you’ll like it and feel free to send me a message to tell me what you think of it :)

Thanks to @bodilychanges​ for his feedback and his ideas :)

Last point, English is not my native language so sorry if you see some mistakes ^^’

Enjoy :)

                                                       —–

All around the world, everything was stopped and everyone had to stay at home, hopping that tomorrow would be a better day.

Nathan had to stay home too. He just graduated from University and was looking for his first work when all this pendemia happened. And now he was trapped in his small appartment with nothing to do of his days except looking for a job that he couldn’t find. Fortunately, he had some incomes thanks to his skills in gaming. Indeed, Nathan had a youtube channel and thanks to the views, he could survive untill all this lockdown would be over. Nathan is 5,9 feet talls and has a light tanned skin thanks to his father side of his family. He had dark hair and a light stubble. His body is not jock like but in University, he began to do more exercices and do some running, not to become a muscle hunk but just to stay in shape. His ears are pierced and he has diamond rings. Other then that, his body is basic. Not too muscled and not too hairy. Just a latino american graduated student who spend his days playing games waiting for all this pendemia to be over to finally take his first step into his active life.

Today was not different from any other one. The lockdown had begin 1 month ago and Nathan was getting quiet annoyed. He had already do everything he could do in his house and now he was walking in his appartment, looking throw his window hopping he could go outside. Suddenly, Nathan heard a DING notification coming from his laptop.

“Dear Nathan, we heard about you on your Youtube channel and we think we could work well together. Our company LifeX his planning to land a new game and we were wondering if you could help us with beta testing and promoting him. Your content is exactly what we need and we think we could do a great collaboration together. Of course we will send you a compensation for your work. Waiting for any news from you, LifeX”

After thinking about this, Nathan decided to accept the proposition. He was bored and had nothing to do so why not doing it, and if it was paid it was all worth it. As soon as he said yes, he received an other mail with a link to download the game. Other then that, he had no information at all about the game. After clicking on the link and a few minutes of downloading, he finally could launch the game and some video started introducing it.

“Dear customer, Welcome to LifeX. In this new kind of game, you’ll create your ideal life and enjoy your day in your own created universe. To achieve this, we’ll need some informations about you and your ideal world. But don’t worry nothing too personal, just the basic informations. For now please enjoy your ideal life in your own unique universe. Welcome to your world, welcome to LifeX”

Nathan was surprised, the game looked real good and was displaying different type of environments. A wonderfull tropical island bathing in the dawn sunlight, a futuristic city with blue neon light illuminating the city, a fantastical themePark with wonderfull attractions and gigantic structures. This game seemed to have it all and was hyper realistic. Following this video, a new window opened and it was the question the voice talked about a few minutes before. Now more enthousiast then ever, Nathan went for it and answered the questions:

Name: Nathan Brown Age: 24 Location: Orlando Gender: Male

Once all the questions were answered, one last window appeared and asked for the time of simulation. After thinking about it, Nathan said to himself: “Well, I guess this lockdown will be going for another month so I’m just gonna put one month and see what it is like, then maybe I’ll start an other game or just resume this one.” after entering the empty champ, a melodic sound resonated in his room, followed by the presentation voice once again.

“Thanks for answering all the information Nathan. Now to begin your game, you are going to create your avatar and then you’ll be good to go and begin your new life”

A new window appeared. It was a creation window with a Human in T pose in the center of the screen. On the left side were parameters about the height, muscles, ethnic background, skin color, skin eye and even more options. After playing with the parameters for a little while, Nathan began to really creates his avatar. He went for a male avatar. Then nathan went to the parameters and put the height cursor to the right and the avatar grew to 6,2 feets tall. Then the muscles cursor to the right and his avatar’s muscles bulged around. Nathan pushed to cursor all the way and saw a huge bodybuilder on the screen, bu then decided it was way too much and put it back to the ¾ of the right. His avatar muscles were not too big but still could be seem through any clothes. Then he opened the face parameters and decided to give his avatar a perfect square jaw with perfect lips, not too big but just perfect to kiss and give pleasure to anyone. Then he gave himself cute bushy eyebrows that framed a very nice sight and wonderful deep green eyes. To finish his face, he gave himself some messy natural dark brown hair curls. After finishing the last details of his head and body, he opened the hair parameters and decided he didn’t want any body hair except for his head and pubes with a little happy trail coming aorund his belly button. No armpits hairs or chest hair at all. And no stubble either. To finish it, he put the skin crusor to the right until the avatar had a perfect natural tanned skin. When he thought he was done with the creation, a new window opened asking for the clothing, and after puting so much work in his character, he decided to put just some blue jeans with some black underwear. To finish it all, he added some neon Orange sunglasses on his face. That’s it , Nathan was done, all he had to do was giving his avatar a name and a background and then he was done. “Let think, He need a perfect name, not too jockish but just perfect for his body. Joe? Nick?… No, it doesn’t represent him… I got it: Cody. yea that’s it Cody. And you will be a Fitness youtuber who loves to hike in the wild. You are not very smart but not dumb either because you dropped out after gratuationg High School. Yea that’s it. Now for the environment, let’s go with some natural Rocky mountain, lost in the nature and far from eveyrhting, and specially this small appartment I’m trapped in.” After clicking on the ending validation button. A new sound came out of his computer and the voice spoke again. “Now that your avatar is done, you can start playing. Enjoy your month Nathan and enjoy your LifeX experience.”

As soon as the voice stopped talking, Nathan’s screen went off and shut down. For a second, he thought all this game was in fact a malware and even if he tried to power up his computer again, he still had a black screen. But after 30 seconds, a loading symbol appeared in the center of the screen and as it turned in an endless spiral, the lights in his appartment flickered. Then a new message  in white letters appeared in the deep dark screen. “Welcome to LifeX” As he saw this message, he felt a weird sensation in his fingers. Nathan watched them and saw a weird green hue appeared at the tip of his nail slowly flowing through his fingers. As the itch grew stronger and stronger, he felt a pulling sensation on them and then saw numbers flowing out of the tip of his fingers. After a few seconds his nails were gone and the green hue was flowing faster and faster through his skin. Nathan screamed in panic as he watched his body being numerized in 1 and 0 and saw them flying and disapearing in the dark abyssal screen. In only a few seconds, all that was left of Nathan was his clothing resting in his gaming chair facing his dark screen.

Nathan opened his eyes and he was naked in some dark place. He was afraid and screaming for help. Then he heard a voice. The same voice presenting the game a few minutes before. “Welcome to your new life Nathan. Don’t panic, this process is normal and painless. In a few minutes, you’ll begin your dreamed life in your ideal rocky montains environment. For now just relax and feel calm, your avatar synchronisation will begin in 5,4,3,2,1…” Then Nathan’s body froze in a T pose. He couldn’t move anymore and was really panicking now. Suddenly out of nowhere, he felt his bones elongating and his legs growing Until he was 6,2. He felt his muscles growing out and his body fat melting out of his pores. His muscles were bulging and growing untill he had the same body has his avatar. Then in an awfull pain, he felt his face rearange and his jaw bones sharpen as his baby face fat vanished. He could feel his eyebrow getting bushier and his lips getting fuller. Then out of nowhere, the worst pain he felt until then happened and his vision faded out. He couldn’t see anymore. But after a short 5 seconds, his vision came back, but instead of his average vision, he now had a perfect sight. He also felt like something was different with them. Then out of nowhere, he felt all his body hair retracting back in his body except for his pubes and head. Nathan was nearly fainting out, it was just too much for a single person. But as he was begging for realease in his mind, he heard once again the voice. “Synchronisation done, now nathan you’ll enter the last part of the procedure and then you’ll be realesed in your new life. Enjoy”

Nathan still couldn’t move a single finger but he felt something wraping around his legs, feets and croth area. He couldn’t watch what was hapening but he guessed that was some kind of clothing. Then in front of his eyes, he saw 1 and 0 appears and dark glasses encased in neon orange plastic apperaed in front of his eyes. Now he understood it all. His body has morphed in the one of his avatar, Cody, which mean then the last step was the mind wrapping. Nathan begged once more but he felt the worst pain he ever felt untill then storming in his brain. It was like he felt all his memories and history getting ripped out of him. He tried to remember it all, repeating his life in his head trying not to forget too much things. “My name is nathan and I live in orlando. I’m a graduated student and I love my family. I have a youtube channel and I love playing videogames.

My name is nathan and I live in Yosemite. I’m a graduated student and I love my family. I have a youtube channel and I love playing videogames. What? Something is wrong I don’t live in yosemit I live in … OMG where do I live if it’s not in Yosemite. Of course it’s here? But no wait this is wrong… My name is nathan and I live in Yosemite. I’m a graduated student and I love my family. I have a fitness youtube channel and I love playing sport with my mates. Wait no I don’t have a fitness channel I have a gaming channel. I love playing videogames with my bros on the field. I love when we play football and spend time on the field instead of staying in my room watching Tv or god’s know what. My name is nathan and I live in Yosemite. I stopped my studies at the end of HighSchool and I love my family. I have a fitness youtube channel and I love playing sport with my mates. No this is wrong,I just graduated from the University and I’m looking for a job. And even if all the gyms are closed I still have my channel to gain some money. After all I’m not the sharpest tool in the box but not the smoothest one either. Ok I dropped out after Highschool but who doesn’t nowadays. And I still got my body to become a fitness trainer. My name is Cody and I live in Yosemite. I stopped my studies at the end of HighSchool and I love my family. I have a fitness youtube channel and I love playing sport with my mates. No my name is not Cody, it’s Nath… what was I talking about.. Oh yea that’s right I’m Cody.”

With that last sentence, Cody heard one last time the voice “Welcome to your new life, Welcome to LifeX” following it the dark area he was trapped in vanished i 1 and 0 to let a beautifull natural park. Cody turned on himself and then stroked an arm behind his head to scratch his hairs. He then looked around him not realising he now had a tattoo in roman number on the side of his chest. Cody then began walking and enjoying the sunny day in this perfect natural environment, not realising deep inside his head, Nathan was trapped in this false numerized body and begging for this to end.

On the other side of the world, a notification appeared on the screen of the LifeX CEO. “Nathan Brown: currently Cody appeared in the Rocky Mountain realm. Time remaining:30 days 23 hours 59 minutes 55 seconds.” The CEO smiled as he understood his technology was working and soon he could do a lot of profit with it…

Fully Immersive 1

Justin Watkins was starting to get desperate.  The junior mechanical engineering major needed to line up a summer internship.  Really, he needed to have one lined up months ago.  Without one, he wouldn’t be able to finish his degree in four years; that was something of a minor miracle in and of itself, as most students in the program took at least five years to graduate.  

He never envisioned finding an internship would be this difficult, especially in his field.  But the economy still wasn’t fully back on its feet, and even the biggest engineering firms were cutting back on their internship offerings.  Even though students like Justin wouldn’t be paid, the corporate world viewed time as money, and more and more companies didn’t think they could afford the time it took to babysit a bunch of college kids every summer.

It was early May, and the spring semester had only a few weeks left.  This was a race against the clock if ever there was one.  But on this day, all Justin could do was slink his way back to his apartment complex after class and hope one of his buddies wanted to make some poor decisions involving alcohol that night.

Justin was about halfway through his trek across campus when he, for no particular reason, stopped to look at one of the bulletin boards.  It was tall and round, just like thousands of others that dotted college campuses across the country.  And like all those identical twins, this one was covered in layer upon layer of fliers and posters in various degrees of disarray, in every color of the rainbow.  But a plain white one, partially stapled over by a not-all-that-cleverly veiled advertisement for black market Adderall, caught Justin’s eye.

As he peeled back the piece of paper covering the one he’d targeted, Justin’s lungs were suddenly assaulted.  He coughed hard, turning to see the culprit just a few inches to his right: a tall, bro-ish guy smoking a cigarette.  So much for that campus-wide smoking ban, Justin thought as he less than subtly pounded his fist against his chest.  He’d hope that, and his loud hacks, would get the bro to either move along or put out the cancer stick.  Alas, his hopes were dashed.

Normally Justin would just walk away, but he wanted to see what that flier said.  Holding his breath while the fratty dude kept puffing away, Justin beheld what had drawn him to this particular bulletin board: large block letters in black against a background of white:

NEED AN INTERNSHIP?

GET ONE TODAY—GUARANTEED!

CREDITS AVAILABLE FOR ANY MAJOR!

FULLY IMMERSIVE!

ABSOLUTELY FREE!

Could this be happening? Did the random flier outside the student union really just answer Justin’s prayers? His better judgment doubted it could be that simple, but at this point, Justin had nothing to lose.  The flier had a phone number at the bottom, and before he knew it, Justin had keyed it into his phone and hit “call”.

The voice at the other end—which sounded like it belonged to a bored, middle-aged woman—asked Justin some basic questions: name, age, major.  Justin answered easily, but then the questions got a little stranger.  The woman wanted to know his race (white), height (5’9” on a good day), weight (245 lbs.), economic background (middle-class) and criminal history (none).  Justin was growing more skeptical, but rattled off the answers.  When he was done, the woman told him she had something perfect for him.  So perfect, in fact, he could start the very next day.

Justin didn’t know whether to be psyched or really creeped out, but with no other solid prospects on the horizon, he decided to be psyched.   The woman gave him an address and told him to be there at 11:00 a.m. the following day.  It didn’t ring a bell for Justin; it was in a part of town, way off-campus, where he’d never really gone before.  Probably because if it couldn’t be described as the hood, it was definitely hood-adjacent.   It also returned no results on his Google search.

More confused than ever, Justin began to waddle his squat, flabby, pasty body back toward his apartment.  Just before he arrived home, he decided he’d give this mysterious, far too convenient opportunity a chance.  Oh, what the hell, he thought to himself.  I guess it can’t hurt to see what this is all about.

“GOSH DARN IT, HURRY UP!”

Justin knew the object of his rage couldn’t hear him, but he shouted anyway.  It was 11:02, and he was still in the car.  Finally, he rued inwardly, I get an internship and I’m late the first darn day.  The traffic had been a mess ever since he left his apartment complex’s parking lot.  Adding insult to injury, his “check engine soon” light had illuminated halfway through the drive.  Justin wasn’t happy.  He definitely didn’t have the money to pay for any kind of major repairs, and he’d more than used up his parents’ financial goodwill for the semester.  All he could do was, first and foremost, hope he got to the mystery address soon.  After that, he’d turn his attention toward hoping the warning light wasn’t a harbinger of a massive repair bill.

After what seemed like an eternity, the traffic broke, and Justin was able to cruise to his destination, arriving an embarrassing but not quite mortifying four minutes late.  He double-checked the address he’d been given, and confirmed he was in the right place.  But this was a little side street, almost like an alley, and the address didn’t belong to the kind of pristine office building where engineering firms are normally housed.  Instead, the address belonged to what Justin could charitably describe as a “weathered” structure containing an auto mechanic’s shop.

Why the heck would they send me to a place like this? Justin was really confused now, but he’d come this far, so he figured he may as well see it through.  Besides, maybe they’ll cut me a break if this old piece of junk needs some work.  

Undoing the seatbelt, Justin rose from his seat and straightened his suit jacket as he closed the door and locked it.  Three or four times.  As he padded towards the shop, he felt an anxious (or terrified?) feeling rising in his ample gut.  But Justin shook it off; he had to at least figure out what was going on here.

As he approached the main door—the twin garage doors were both closed—someone emerged from it, shouting at him with a booming voice.

“What da fuck you want, vato?!”

It was all Justin could do not to run back to his car. Instead, he just froze as a tall, heavily-tattooed, dark-haired, thickly muscled Hispanic man in a stained wife beater came nose to nose with him.

Say something, Justin told himself.  Anything!

“Uh,” he began, his high-pitched voice audibly racked with fear, “I’m, uh, supposed to have an internship here…I think?”

The Hispanic dude didn’t move.  Standing a full head taller than Justin, the guy was more than a little intimidating.  Remaining deadly silent, a scowl etched into his tough face, for several minutes only added to the intimidation factor.

A few seconds later, the Hispanic dude’s expression changed from a glare to a gold-toothy smile.  “Ayy, you must be Justin!”  For the first time in what felt like hours, Justin felt it was safe to exhale.  “Welcome to ‘Sangre y Lagrimas Mecanicos’, holmes!”

Allowing himself to relax, Justin spoke up again, his voice still trembling.  “What, um, what does that mean?”

The Hispanic guy laughed.  “Deese Anglos, man, why they keep sending me deese fuckin’ Anglos!”  The guy then paused, seeming to look Justin up and down and back again.  “Ayy, I know why.”  He laughed again.  Justin was clueless.

“I, uh, I’m sorry I don’t know Spanish, sir.  I didn’t know it would be required for completion of…”

“Who da fuck ‘sir’ do you see here, homie?”  Justin was taken aback by the interruption.  “Call me Hector, man.  Hector.”  The guy swung his right arm out, palm open at shoulder height.  Justin recognized this, having seen frat bros do it day after day.  He’d never actually been on the receiving end of one, but he knew what he had to do.  Justin awkwardly slapped his hand, his own palms open, into the other man’s.  

“It’s, um, nice to meet you, Hector.”  Justin straightened out his blazer again.  “I must admit, though, I’m not sure what I’m doing here.”

Hector laughed again, harder this time, so hard he brought his tattooed hand to his mouth and dropped to his knees.  “I’m sorry, holmes, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to laugh at you, man.  Ayy, you’ll laugh too when you figure it out.”  

Figure what out? Justin presumed that particular comment shouldn’t be shared aloud.

By now, several other men had come out of the garage to join Hector.  All were Hispanic, all sported close-cropped black hair and goatees, and enough ink to print a few thousand copies of the local newspaper.  Some wore dirty tank tops like Hector, others were in coveralls, which allowed Justin to learn a few of their names—Pedro, Jorge, Jesus.  Helpfully, Hector introduced the others within a moment—Tomas, Angel and Victor rounded out this motley crew.

Justin was a little surprised to see this many guys working at such a small, run-down place.  Heck, there weren’t even any cars in the driveway, so who knew if they were even working on anything? 

Hector broke the silence, which was growing more uncomfortable by the second.  “Aight, listen holmes, you a mechanical something-or-other major, right?  This a mechanic shop.  That’s why you here, man.”  The others chuckled, like they knew something Justin didn’t.

“You wanna learn?” Hector’s tone had gotten ever-so-slightly more sinister.  “I promise you, vato, you gonna learn.”  Now, Hector’s smile returned.  “Come with us, bro, we get you all taken care of.  First thing’s first, you gotta lose that suit, Joaquin.”

Justin was puzzled.  “Who’s…oh, I’m Joaquin?”

Hector and his crew laughed hysterically yet again.  He turned to Victor, shaking his head.  “This guy, man, this guy is the best one yet, yo.”  Hector put his hand on Justin’s shoulder.  “’Round here, you Joaquin, understand? That’s a sign of respect, homie.  Don’t make me regret it.”

Justin nodded quickly.  Hector patted his shoulder, hard, then led him into the shop, reminding him to ditch the suit jacket as he went.  What Justin—Joaquin—saw when he crossed the threshold of the door left his eyes wide.  

Cars, everywhere.  More accurately, what was left of cars.  There were piles and piles of engines, tires, rims and other parts stacked 15 or 20 feet high.  “Wow,” he said out loud, inadvertently.

Hector threw his arms wide, showing off the grandeur of his place of business.  “Check it out, holmes! Your new ‘classroom’!”

It took a moment, but Justin put the pieces together.  This is a chop shop, he realized.  I’m doing my summer internship in a chop shop!   Justin reasoned if ever he was going to get out of here, now was the time.  He turned for the door, only to find it blocked by the towering, hulking bodies of Jesus and Angel.  Justin couldn’t help but chuckle ruefully.  Jesus and an angel, trapping me in a den of iniquity.  Only me.

“Nah,” Hector said loudly.  “You ain’t going nowhere, Joaquin.  You came here to learn.”  The large man was now in Justin’s face again.  “I’m ready to teach.  And trust me, vato, failure is not an option.”

After being scared more than half to death, Hector had instructed his crew to get Justin looking like he belonged there.  They watched as he stripped out of his suit, laughing loudly when they saw his flabby, translucent midsection and thumb-sized penis.  Justin couldn’t be sure, but he suspected they were mocking him mercilessly in rapid-fire Spanish exchanges, each punctuated by hysterical laughter. 

When he was down to his boxers, Tomas tossed him a pair of dingy black jeans.  Even for the rotund Justin, they looked like they’d be about two sizes too big around the waist.  But Justin didn’t see this as the time to quibble over such details, so he put the jeans on.  They immediately sagged to the middle of his fat thighs, causing the denim to pool at his feet.  Tomas was laughing again.  “You sure you ain’t dressing like this all the time, Joaquin? You got mad swag, yo!”  That caused Tomas and the others to laugh even louder than they did when they saw Justin’s pathetic prick.

“Can you at least give me a shirt, Tomas?” If Justin had been paying attention, he might have noticed the slightest hint of an authentic accent—Mexican, to be precise—when he said Tomas’s name.  But he wasn’t, and when Tomas handed him a size XXXXL wife beater—two X’s more than Justin normally worse, and covered in grease and sweat stains—he put it on quickly.  The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him.  He just realized long ago he was better off playing along than trying to fight it.

Black socks and well-worn work boots followed, and within minutes, Justin was dressed again, though in the kind of outfit he never envisioned seeing in a mirror.  Tomas and the others applauded; Justin suspected their clapping was tinged with a good amount of sarcasm.  “There you go, mayne,” Tomas said, approaching Justin for the same kind of hand-slap-hug-thing that Hector had.   “Now you look like you belong here.”  This was Justin’s first up-close look at Tomas.  He looked a little younger than Hector, and taller—at least 6’6”—yet a little less muscular.  But Tomas’s “little less” was still darned impressive.  Justin appreciated the dude’s ample neck muscles, broad shoulders, thick chest and prominent biceps.  He didn’t  know much about bodybuilding, but he knew a bodybuilder when he saw one, and Justin was sure Tomas had been hitting the gym quite hard.  

Just like Hector, Tomas was covered in tattoos.  Justin could spot many different words and phrases—all in Spanish, though he thought he could understand one or two—along with designs of all kinds, from the macabre to the stereotypical.  There were dozens of skulls, more than a few naked women with oversized breasts, and everything in between.  The black and grey ink soaked just about every inch of Tomas’s visible caramel-colored skin, from chin to fingertips.  Justin assumed his chest, stomach, back and legs were covered, as well.  He also noticed another thing everyone in Hector’s crew had in common: their faces were all tattoo-free, except they all had at least one teardrop inked on their cheeks.  Hector had the most—Justin had counted at least a dozen—while Tomas had only a pair, one on each side of his goateed face.  Angel had five or six, and Jorge and Pedro hovered around 10 apiece. Justin presumed the teardrops somehow tied into the hierarchy of this crew, because no one had nearly as many as Hector, and he was clearly running the show.

“So whatchu think, Joaquin? You like your new look?”

Justin turned to the full-length mirror, which he thought was oddly placed in the middle of the lounge/kitchen area, and regarded himself.  He looked like the lowest of the lower class, in his disgusting top and trashy jeans.  But he also thought it made him look a little more dangerous, a little tougher maybe.  Justin couldn’t quite place it, but aside from the clothes, something else was different about his reflection.  Was his hair darker than it was earlier that day? Had he lost weight and not noticed?

Justin dismissed those thoughts, chalking it up to the massive amount of confusion his brain was experiencing.  He turned back to Tomas and nodded.  “Looks hella tight, mayne!” Justin was shocked by what had come out of his mouth.  He’d never said a curse word before—not even hell—and he definitely noticed the accent this time.  I ain’t sure what this is, he thought, but shit, the flier said  this would be fully immersive.  Guess I’m immersing, yo!

Tomas smiled broadly, exposing a mouth that had a few teeth replaced with gold stand-ins, and others missing altogether.  “Glad to hear it, vato, glad to hear it.”  The six men in the room with Justin all smiled, some chatting quietly amongst themselves in Spanish.  Now, though, Justin could decipher a few words here and there.

Tomas slapped Justin playfully on the upper arm.  “Come on, holmes, smoke break, you earned it.”

“Nah, bro,” Justin said.  There’s that accent again.  “Shit’s bad for you, man.”  And the cursing.  They must be rubbing off on me.

Tomas laughed.  “Maybe so, Joaquin, maybe so.  But consider it part of your…learning experience.”  Tomas gestured down to his waistband, and Justin’s eyes followed.  He saw two things he never expected to see on the first day of his big internship:  a pack of menthol cigarettes, and the grip of a black handgun.

  Justin was nervous.  Or at least, he felt like he should be.  One of his hands, which looked like it had gotten a nice tan over the last few hours, he held a cigarette.  In the other, a lighter.  Tomas, Angel and the rest of Hector’s crew—sans Hector himself, who’d left to “conduct business” a while back—were watching him intently, waiting for him to do something.

“Vamanos, vato,” shouted Pedro, “we ain’t got all day!”  Pedro was leaning against the exterior back wall of the shop, his own menthol dangling from his lips.  Smoke escaped his nose and mouth as he chided Justin for dragging his feet.

Justin didn’t to light the cigarette.  He knew he would cough.  He knew he would hate it.  He knew it was unhealthy, and dirty, and just plain wrong.  Which is why he was just as fascinated as the crew when in one fluid motion, his left hand put the filter of the cigarette between his lips, and his right raised the lighter and activated the flame.  Sucking in as the fire met the tobacco, Justin inhaled the mint-tinged smoke into his lungs.   

But the cough never came.  A second later, he exhaled through his nose, two large plumes of smoke jetting out from his nostrils.  Smoking didn’t actually feel bad.  In fact, it felt…good.

The crew gave him a round of applause. “Atta boy, Joaquin, you be looking more and more like us all the damn time,” said Victor in a sing-song Mexican accent.

Justin smiled between puffs.  “Gracias, vato,” Justin replied.   Where did that come from? he thought to himself.  “It feels good, yo, real good.”  

The young man’s mind was in turmoil.  On the one hand, the rational hand, he was being held against his will by a bunch of thugs, lured to an illegal chop shop on the pretense of a college internship.  They were making him do things he would never do on his own, including smoke cigarettes, a habit that had been repulsive to Justin just hours before.

But on the other hand, it all felt right, somehow.  Justin had never been an especially remarkable person.  Sure, he was booksmart, but he didn’t have many friends, his social life was nonexistent, he’d never come anywhere close to losing his virginity, and his body was certainly nothing to write home about.  Now, he had friends—vatos—and inexplicably, his appearance was changing.  The old Justin was melting away, being replaced by someone he didn’t know or recognize.  Justin was becoming Joaquin.

His rational side was terrified.  But the other part of his mind was winning out.  Justin—no, Joaquin—was committed.  

Over the next few hours, Joaquin continued to assimilate into Hector’s crew.  The vatos showed him around the shop, showed him what they did to the cars that “mysteriously” appeared on their doorstep at all hours of the night.  Joaquin was learning quickly; by the middle of the afternoon, he felt like he’d been a mechanic forever.  He knew what everything was, what it did, where it went…and how much it was worth.

The crew had taken frequent smoke breaks, and Joaquin was now a more than willing participant.   After just three hours, he’d smoked twice that many cigarettes.  He’d taken to keeping a spare behind his ear at all times, the white paper wrapping contrasting boldly against his hair, which was now jet black and very short.  After Justin’s old, nondescript hair had completely darkened, Jesus had taken him to the back and given him a haircut.  It seemed Jesus was a master barber in addition to a pretty good mechanic, because Joaquin emerged with a perfectly executed skin fade, with sharp lines at the temples that flowed seamlessly into a pencil-thin, expertly lined beard.  Jesus had also taken good care of Joaquin’s mustache, which was a little thicker than the rest of his facial hair.  Like any good vato, he thought.  After work, the crew had promised to take Joaquin for his first tattoos.  He couldn’t wait.

It was just about 5:00 when Hector finally returned.  The crew, including Joaquin, were lounging against the front of the shop on yet another smoke break.   Hector had worn a scowl when he emerged from his customized Cadillac, but when he saw Joaquin taking a drag off the menthol and pull it away with his thumb and forefinger, Hector smiled broadly.

“Ayy what the fuck is this yo!” He approached Joaquin for another handshake, and now Joaquin knew exactly what to do.  When the two finished their masculine embrace, Hector grabbed his new vato by the shoulders.  “You lookin’ real good, holmes.  I didn’t think we could make you this grimy this fast, but I take it!”

Joaquin laughed in response.  He hadn’t been to the mirror lately, but if he had, he would have noticed his teeth were now wildly out of place and stained brown, a stark contrast to the perfect chompers in which Justin had taken great pride.  “I’m lovin’ every minute of it, hermano!”

Hector smiled again, but this one had a bit of a sinister twinge to it.  “Bueno, vato.  ‘Cuz I got a new lesson for you.”  He pulled up his wife beater to reveal a pair of shiny handguns resting in his waistband.  Hector pulled out one and held it out to Joaquin.  “You ready to learn some more, holmes?”

Joaquin looked down at the piece, up at Hector, then back down at the gun as he took it confidently into his hand.  “Whatever you need, jefe, I gotchu, mayne.”

Hector put his powerful arm around Joaquin’s shoulders, which seemed to be coming in quite nicely.  Soon, he’d be just as big and strong as Hector and the rest of the crew.   Having strong guys was important in this line of work, for several reasons.  

“Good,” Hector said.  “First, let me show you something, bro.”  He motioned for Joaquin to follow him into the shop.  Joaquin took a final, double drag off the cigarette and flicked it into the street as he walked through the door, smoke still pouring out of his nose as he crossed the threshold.  Joaquin barely noticed it among all the other changes, but his walk had changed, as well.  Where Justin took short, hesitant steps, Joaquin swaggered like a lifelong homie.  

Hector led Joaquin into his private office, a small room off the main garage protected by three sets of locks.  Closing the door behind him, Joaquin took a seat on the ripped, stained chair on the near side of Hector’s cluttered desk.

The boss broke the silence quickly.  “You understand what we doing here, right?”  Joaquin nodded.  “No, I mean you understand what we doing to you.”

The new vato responded that he sort of knew what was going on, and that it felt weird at first but now, it felt awesome.  Joaquin didn’t realize he had said all that in Spanish.

Hector reached into his desk drawer and pulled out six file folders.  “Aaron Gabriel.  Jin Park.  Peter Morris.  Tommy McGinty.   George Krakowski.   Vince Distefano.  You recognize those names, Joaquin?”

“No se, hermano,” Joaquin replied.

“How about Angel Gutierrez, Jesus Pajarito, Pedro Morales, Tomas Manuel, Jorge Carneul and Victor Diaz?”

Joaquin’s heart skipped a beat. Dios mio, he thought.  They were all like me once.  

Hector continued.  “I be straight witchu, homie.  I needed a crew.  All my old vatos got themselves locked up or fuckin’ shot and shit.   Then some gringo comes to me and says he can help me rebuild my staff.  I says ‘Si, hombre, why the fuck not?’  

“But this puto keeps sending me these pasty-ass, pansy-ass frat party looking motherfuckers.  So I bust into dude’s office with my piece and ask him what the fuck’s he trying to pull on me.  The guy says, ‘Didn’t you read the sign on the door? ‘Immersive Internships.’  And then it hit me, yo.  Alls I had to do was tell these conos what to do, and not only would they do it, they’d fuckin’ become it!”

Hector went on to briefly describe what each vato had been when Hector got his hands on them. One had been a swimmer, another an honors student.  Others were just slackers—they had embraced the change the quickest, Hector said.

“There’s just one problem, yo,” he continued.  “At the end of the day, I gotta give you the chance to go back to your old life, holmes.  That’s part of the deal. You can walk away from all this, no fuckin’ questions asked.  You won’t remember shit.”

Joaquin considered what Hector had said.  He could go back to the life he’d been living all along, the buttoned-down, boring life of Justin Watkins.

“Or,” Hector said, continuing Joaquin’s thought for him as he pulled something else out of his desk drawer.  “You can smoke this blunt with me, and be my vato for life.  It’s your choice, mayne.”

The little bit of Justin that still existed in the recesses of Joaquin’s transformed brain was crying out for him to walk away.  But Justin wasn’t running the show anymore.  

“Ain’t no choice to make, jefe,” Joaquin said, brandishing the weapon he’d just been gifted.  “I wanna ride with chu, hermano.”

Hector laughed, his gold teeth catching the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the cramped office.  “I was hoping you’d say that.  Muy bueno, hermano.  You’ve made me very happy.”  Hector picked up the blunt he’d pre-rolled specially for this occasion, wrapped in the paper of his contract with Immersive Internships.  He’d figured out the trick to locking in the transformations by accident.  Hector had three or four of his interns go back to their old lives, and was growing frustrated with II.  Angrily, he ripped a contract in half and used it to roll a blunt.  Moments later, Angel—the first of his permanent vatos—had told him he wanted to stay on.  He was in the midst of his transformation from Aaron to Angel at the time, and when he took a few hits off the contract-blunt, Hector watched in amazement as the metamorphosis sped up.  By the time the blunt was out, all traces of Aaron were gone, and his body had just about doubled in size, all of it muscle.  Aaron was dead, and the very Mexican Angel was here to stay.

He’d gotten to do that five more times, creating Tomas, Jorge, Pedro, Jesus and Victor.  Joaquin would be his seventh, bringing his crew up to full strength.  Hector was looking forward to this particular change.

For his part, Joaquin couldn’t wait to seal the deal.  He reached across the desk and grabbed the blunt, brought it to his mouth and lit it.  He took three or four deep drags, holding it all in his lungs, before exhaling with the cough of a practiced weed smoker.  “Dat some good shit, jefe, gracias,” Joaquin said through a smile of crooked teeth.  Hector took his turn.  And then he watched.

Joaquin doubled over in pain as the change rapidly intensified.  He stood up as his height rocketed to a towering 6’7”.  Reflexively, he kicked off his boots as the feet inside them grew to a size 19.  At the same time, the skin all over his body continued to darken, finally settling on a mocha color that complemented his hair, which had already become an inky black.  

Hector kept hitting the blunt as Joaquin packed on muscle, pounds at a time.  His shoulders grew to the size of soccer balls, connecting to a pair of 26” biceps and a set of meaty, sinewy forearms.  Joaquin ripped off the nasty wife beater as his chest inflated, giving way to an identical pair of powerful, heaving pecs.  His nipples went from pink to dark brown and now pointed straight down at his abs, which were popping into existence like bricks being laid one at a time.  An exquisite Adonis belt pointed the way to Joaquin’s rapidly growing dick, which burst through the cotton of his boxer shorts like an actor rushing through the curtain of a stage.  It, too, became dark, growing fat and flopping around in spasms of growth.  Joaquin watched as his foreskin grew back, creating a polla that would be more than a foot long when it was fully hard.  

Next came the thighs, which looked more like they belonged to a rugby player, thick and tight with corded muscle.  They went nicely with Joaquin’s new calves, which stuck out behind his leg like someone had glued footballs to his skin.

Just like that, it was over.  Justin Watkins was dead.  Joaquin Valbuena, the hulking enforcer of the Sangre y Lagrimas crew, was born.  The new, permanent vato extended his giant hand to Hector, took what was left of the blunt and polished it off, letting the smoke waft through his thick black mustache.

“Ayy,” Joaquin said, his voice now a lilting baritone, clearly belonging to someone who spoke only the most basic English.  “What chu want me to do wit dis, jefe?” He motioned to the gun, still sitting on the desk.

Hector leaned back in his chair.  “You want some of these, vato?” He indicated the teardrop tattoos that dotted his rugged cheeks.  Joaquin nodded furiously.

Hector stood up, walked around the desk, cocked the gun and put it into Joaquin’s massive paw.  “You gonna get the chance to earn four of them tonight, holmes.”

getting high off my own alpha stink is fucking dope

This WILL be me.  So jacked all I can do is lift more.  I’ll have faggots for everything else.

Lets get roided up! Grow massive and huge

Transformed myself using ai

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