Thetfchangingroom - Tumblr Posts

maybe something where two guys hang out and then one drinks something and anything he says becomes the truth?

“A truth serum?” John asked.

“Yeah!” Mark replied, “except it’s not what you think. Instead of making you tell the truth, it makes everything you say become the truth.”

John looked down at the small green bottle. “Sounds a little dangerous.”

“It doesn’t last that long, and you can always reverse whatever you say.” Mark saw the hesitation in his friend’s eyes. “C’mon man, all I need for you is to make me jacked. You can do it to yourself too! C’mon. Please?”

John looked down at the bottle then down at his body. He could do with some more muscle, and it wouldn’t hurt Mark either.

“Fine,” he said taking the bottle and unscrewing the cap, “but just to get us jacked.”

“Totally bro,” Mark said, and with that, John drank. The bottle was so small, the entire thing went down his throat. “Well,” he said, “feel any different?”

“Not really…” John said, “how does this work?”

“Anything you say becomes the truth. So… say something!”

John cleared his throat. “Right… well… we’re jacked. Both of us. Nice and muscular, but not too muscular.”

It was instantaneous. Both boys felt their bodies balloon out with muscle, causing their loose, dangling clothes to grow tight and fitting around their new, jacked bodies.

Mark didn’t waste any time. Within seconds, his shirt was off, and he was looking at himself in the mirror, eyes wide with shock.

“Fuuuuck dude! It worked! It really worked!!” John was barely listening. He was feeling up his own muscles through his t-shirt. They didn’t even feel real, but when he gave one pec a hearty squeeze, he knew that this wasn’t a dream. “Say something else!” John ran back in, practically jumping up and down.

“Like… what?”

“ANYTHING! Like… give me a huge dick.”

“A huge… what?”

“C’mon dude,” Mark was back to pleading, “my girlfriend would get a kick out of it.”

“Fine,” John said with a grin, “Mark has a a giant monster cock that’s so big, he can’t even fit it into his girlfriend’s pussy.”

Mark felt a huge tugging at the bottom of his boxers, and looked down to see his cock growing and growing, so much so that he was fighting to keep his shorts from just falling down. By the time the damn thing was done expanding, Mark guessed it was at least 11 inches long.

“Jesus man, what the fuck??” But John was cracking up. Mark looked back down at his dick and started to imagine what life would be like with a shlong that long. “You’re so fucking gay man,” Mark said.

“Right,” John scoffed, “I’M the gay one.”

He didn’t realize what he had done until after he’d done it. Apparently the serum didn’t take to sarcasm too well, because after saying the words “I’m the gay one,” John started to look at Mark differently. He started to lust after his muscular physique with an animal passion, caressing the curves of his biceps with his eyes, practically tasting the precum dripping out of the wet patch in Mark’s skin-tight boxer shorts, where his massive dick was twitching relentlessly.

“Dude… you okay?”

He didn’t know how long he was staring. Only that he wanted more than to just stare. He wanted Mark. He wanted him now.

“I think we’ve had our fun,” Mark said, starting to feel his nerves unwind, “let’s change back, okay? John? Can you change me back?”

“Okay,” John said with a smirk, “I’ll change you… but I won’t change you back.”

Mark’s face grew pale. “Wait, what?”

John cleared his throat, “Mark has a giant body to match his giant dick. He’s a fucking muscle beast with humongous arms and a giant pec shelf.”

Mark didn’t even have time to speak before his body shot out in all directions. What was previously handsome and toned was now obscene and large. His legs grew like tree trunks bursting through his underwear and sending his monster cock flying out into the cold air. He could barely see below his bulging pecs, and his arms had grown so large in the span of a few seconds, that they had rendered a lot of previous movement impossible.

“What the fuck man?!” Mark said. He gripped his dick. It felt normal sized in his otherwise abnormal hands. “What did you do to me?”

“I only made it so that you’d be able to have a regular dick again. Well… regular compared to the rest of your body.”

Mark’s head was rushing with thoughts. What was his girlfriend going to say about this? What was his family going to say? His job? How was he going to live his life when he couldn’t even fit through a proper doorway?

“Change me back,” he said firmly.

John smiled. “Of course I’ll change you back. But not after I’ve had some more fun.” Mark was about to lunge forward when John said: “Isn’t that right, mister Robbie Amell?”

Mark exhaled deeply. As he did, he felt his muscles subside, his body shrinking and leaning out into the chiseled physique of Robbie Amell. His hands reached for his face, and he felt the bones shift and rearrange themselves under his skin, which became smooth and soft to this touch.

“What is happening to me?” Mark said, his voice now noticeably higher. His bewildered blue eyes shot to John, who was rubbing his own dick through his skin-tight jeans. Just as soon as he saw this did a pair of tight gym shorts wrap themselves around Mark—or Robbie’s—defined hips. In the nylon pouch, he saw his dick return to normal size. Normal, that was, for a Hollywood celebrity.

Robbie smiled. “Yeah,” he said feeling his washboard abs, “I could get used to this.”

“Better not,” John said with a smile. He was becoming mad with power, and he was sure that his next transformation would be his hottest. “You’re not actually Robbie Amell. You’re a hairy Spanish bodybuilder.”

The second the word “hairy” crossed John’s lips, Mark’s chest started to grow itchy. He looked down to see his previously spotless chest dusted with little black hairs. What was more, his pecs were starting to come back in. With a vengeance.

“Que es esto?” Mark said. Though he could understand the words that came out of his mouth, he knew they were not in English. As a matter of fact, the more he thought about it, the less he knew of the English language at all. “Yo no enteindo…”

“It’s okay,” John said as he walked up to his friend, “you don’t have to say anything. Just look at yourself man!” He pointed to Mark’s bicep, which Mark instinctively flexed. The thing must have been 17 inches, at least. He followed it up to his broad, thickening shoulders, down the hairy cleavage of his new pecs, and across the landscape that was his muscle gut.

Mark—or Manuel—gave a deep groan. He was so enamored with his own body, he didn’t have the energy to even be mad at John. “Flex,” he heard his friend say, and Manuel placed his hands on his hips and flared his bodybuilder muscles out.

“Very good,” John said, running his hands over the rough mounds of stone.

“NOW can you change me back?” Manuel asked, only the words came out as “Ahora puedes cambiarme?”

John gave him a confused look. “Sorry? I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Ahora puedes cambiarme?!” Manuel repeated, but it was no use. He was running out of time. If John didn’t turn him back soon, he was going to be stuck as a hulking hispanic bodybuilder for the rest of his life.

He dove for the little green bottle, brining it to his lips in the hope that there might be just a drop of the truth serum left.

Nothing. He shook the bottle pathetically, but not a single drop came out. He heard John laughing behind him.

“Sorry Mark,” he said, “you should have taken the serum yourself. But you trusted me, and I suspect I’ve got time for one more transformation left before we run out of time…”

Manuel couldn’t understand the words John was saying. He understood only one single word: “briefs,” and made one more pass at the bottle.

But his hands were disappearing. As a matter of fact, his whole body seemed to be shrinking down, the mass of his muscles vanashing into thin air as he felt wind rush through the silky sheen of his skin.

He collapsed onto the floor, immobile, and felt the bottle topple down just a few inches away from him. He could see John walk over to his limp body. His friend towered over him, his toned and perfectly round muscles seemed colossal compared to whatever it was Mark had become.

He watched as John removed his clothes, revealing every inch of the body he had wanted in the first place. Not too big, not to muscular, but just sexy enough to get every guy in a two block radius hard as a rock.

Even Mark felt a flash of attraction as John pulled him up his legs and over his ass. But as he felt his best friend’s cock fill out what used to be his face, he knew that his life was going to be different from here on out.

John rubbed his dick through his brand new briefs. “Damn man,” he said to Mark, “you fit pretty well.” He knew he should feel bad, having just turned his best friend into a pair of underwear. But he suspected there was plenty more where that truth serum came from. He was sure he would turn him back… eventually…

The Whole Truth...

(A sequel to “The Truth Serum (Ask).” Sorry this took so long! The story ended up getting bigger and bigger, but I didn’t want to make you guys wait any longer. This is Part 1 of the sequel, and Part 2 will be released next week. Hope you enjoy!)

This is John and Mark. John and Mark have been best buds since they were sophomores in high school. Inseparable, some might say. They’ve grown even closer in recent years. So close, in fact, that Mark seldom leaves John’s side… or sides.

Confused? I would be to. There’s only one man in that picture after all. You see, John turned his friend Mark into a pair of briefs a while back. Turns out that the boys had gotten ahold of a rare bottle of truth serum—the kind that makes everything you say become the truth—and someone got a little too creative.

John promised it wouldn’t be permanent. He promised he would only keep Mark in this humiliating state for a few days. But a few days turned into a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a few months. And now, one year after drinking his first drops of truth serum, Mark isn’t any closer to being human again. After all, he is John’s favorite pair of briefs.

But Mark hasn’t forgotten. Each day he waits, patiently cradling John’s massive package. He waits for an opportunity that he’s not sure will ever come, the opportunity to get revenge.

Fortunately for Mark, that opportunity is about to arrive. The Changing Room still has big plans for these two. All we need is just a few drops of truth, and a few simple words…

Blake already knew the rules. He’d read extensively about the “truth serum” online. He’d heard about the hot games people had played, the hot fantasies that had become reality, he’d read about the hot accidents that became irreversible once the effects wore off.

But Blake wasn’t here to play any games. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly how much of the serum to take, the exact words to say, and the exact order to say them in. He couldn’t screw up; this plan was foolproof.

And yet, as he stared down at the emerald green liquid, fear gripped at the corners of his mind. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he did screw up? What would that mean for him?

“BLAKE!” He jumped. The voice came from a few inches below him. Great, he thought. It was Stan.

“Man, the gym is pretty crowded today, huh?” Stan said, motioning to the other guys in the locker room. He was right, the little dork. The gym was bustling with post-thanksgiving stragglers, looking to drop those couple of pounds they gained over the week. Only these guys didn’t have “a couple of pounds.” Most of them were fat, old, objectively unattractive (at least to Blake). By and large, the gym wasn’t populated by the most attractive guys. Blake lived on the outskirts of town, and there was a retirement home just a block away from the gym. Blake didn’t consider himself very attractive—average by most standards—and yet he looked like a bodybuilder next to most of these guys.

Stan was a prime example. Stan had been Blake’s lab partner freshman year of high school. They ran into each other at the gym a couple months ago, and Stan had been following him around ever since. It was obvious how attracted to Blake he was, but Stan was not his kind of guy—at all. He was short, pasty, and had a nasally, high picked voice that rang around the locker room like a high pitched bell.

“Blake, did you hear me?”

“What—yes. Sorry, I…” his mind was elsewhere. Blake was thinking about what was waiting for him outside that locker room. He was thinking about what he was going to say to transform him. What were the words again? “It must be thanksgiving, you know.”

“RIGHT!” Stan said with an obnoxious laugh, “it’s that pumpkin pie. I’m telling you. My grandmother makes the greatest pumpkin pie…” as Stan continued to rant about his “epic” thanksgiving dinner, Blake saw a flash of skin from the corner of his eye.

It was him. Alex. God, he looked incredible. Even by the rather lax standards of their gym, Alex was one of the hottest guys on the planet. How he had even ended up training at a dump like theirs was a mystery to Blake, but he didn’t care. He got to be blessed with the glorious sight of Alex’s perfectly toned muscles, his soft cream skin and warm welcoming eyes every Tuesday and Thursday. After all, he was Blake’s personal trainer.

“Blake!” Alex spotted the two from across the room and sauntered over, beaming. “How’s it going bro? How was thanksgiving?”

Blake froze. The words caught in his mouth. The bottle of truth serum gripped tight in his fist. “Good!” was all he was able to get out.

Alex turned to Stan. “And you name was…?”

“STAN!” he said, a little too loud. If he had a crush on Blake, he was absolutely in love with Alex. He grabbed the jock’s hand and shook it. “We’ve met a couple of times. You just probably don’t remember. It’s okay. I forget things too. It’s fine.”

“Right,” Alex said. He turned back to Blake. “See you out there? Ten min? It’s arm day today! Gotta get those biceps nice and big.” He patted Blake’s sad excuse for an arm, and Blake had to hide his blushing face.

“Arm day, yeah. See you out there!”

Alex was gone as soon as he came. Stan made an exaggerated sigh. “Why are all the hot ones straight, know what I mean? Like if only he was gay…”

If only. Blake gave a little laugh. He laughed, not because of how improbable that was, but because by the end of their session, Alex was going to be very gay. More than that, Alex was going to be his boyfriend. It was the truth he had concocted in his mind when he had purchased the serum online. All he needed was a couple of drops and the confidence to say the words out lout. But if there’s anything Blake was sorely lacking, it was arm muscles and confidence.

“Hey, what’s that bottle you got there?” Stan pointed to the serum, “is that a supplement? You know my grandma said those can make your balls fall off.”

Blake pulled it back. “No, it’s… um…” and then an idea started to form. A small, sinister, brilliant idea. “Actually,” Blake said, “it is a supplement. But a very special one. Want me to show you how it works?”

Stan nodded vigorously while Blake looked around for an empty changing stall. There were too many guys around to do this in public, and Blake only had ten minutes.

There’s a lot I can do in ten minutes, he thought to himself, and the two disappeared into the showers.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” The clerk looked up at the large, muscular man as he walked into the store. He was looking around at all the supplements, the vitamins, the protein shakes. But John wasn’t reading any of the labels…

“Yeah,” John said with a charming smile, “I was wondering if I could get a few drops of the… um… ‘special’ shake.”

A flash of confusion across the clerk’s face. Then, recognition. “Right away,” he said, and disappeared into the back. The second he was gone, John stuck a thumb into his sweat pants and pulled them open.

Mark was writhing and squeezing on his junk. John winced. He was starting to get more violent, and if he didn’t put him to rest soon, there would be another grown man standing in the middle of the shop with them.

By the time the clerk returned, John had shrunk a half foot, and his muscle tone was going down. Fast. “Thanks,” John said, grabbing the tiny green shot from the clerk’s hands and throwing it down his throat. He rushed out of the shop, where no one could hear him, and said out loud to himself:

“I am a jacked up muscle god, and Mark is my favorite pair of underwear.”

He felt himself grow taller, the lost muscle mass returning in a matter of seconds. And Mark stopped writhing. He was back to being just another pair of cozy briefs.

John sighed. He had to find out about the hard way: the truth serum’s effects eventually did ware off. It started about a month ago, when he started loosing muscle, and Mark’s reflexes started to return. He had an arrangement with the store owner: just two drops of the truth serum a month. Enough to keep his body hard and Mark at bay.

But this was the second time he had gone this week. Though he puffed out his chest and put a smile on his face, deep down John feared that the effects might ware off altogether, and nothing would be able to stop Mark from being human again, and enacting his revenge…

“What are we doing in here?” Stan asked as Blake closed the shower curtain.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered. Stan looked taken aback. Then, he blushed.

“Aren’t you afraid someone will see us?” he said as he peeled his shirt off. Blake winced at the sight of his lumpy, pimply chest. He wouldn’t have to look at it for much longer. “Aren’t you going to get naked too?” Stan asked.

But Blake was already unscrewing the cap to the bottle. He knew he needed to save some for Alex’s transformation. All he needed now were a couple drops. He savored their sweet taste as they slivered down his throat.

“Um… Blake?”

Blake grinned. He could almost feel the power pulsing through his veins, the words like fire as they came off of his tongue.

“I really love your chest, Stan,” Blake said.

Stan blushed. “Y—you do?”

“Oh yeah, all that hair, all that muscle. You’re a real daddy, you know that?”

Flattered, but confused, Stan opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when he started to feel it. A soft rumbling under his skin. The prickling of hairs poking out from his pores.

“What’s… what’s… is that my voice?” It was rich, deep. It echoed off the walls of the shower and made Blake’s dick jump in his gym shorts. He stood back to accommodate for Stan, who’s size was increasing by the second.

It was his muscles, mostly. In just under a minute, the young man’s muscles had swelled to bodybuilder proportions. The veins bulged under his skin as hair continued to grow in fields across his chest, over his arms, and down his legs. Blake had to resist the temptation to reach out and rub his thick carpet, to smell his hairy pits, growing ever thick with hair and musk.

“Grrrrrrr…” Stan growled. He brought both colossal arms up over his head and flared out his pecs. As he did, a fresh crop of hair covered them, all grey.

Blake looked to to Stan’s face. Sure enough, he was aging rapidly. The young man who had just turned 22 several months ago was now encroaching on 45. Stan closed his eyes and gave another hearty growl as a silver daddy beard burst through his chiseled chin.

“Fuuuuck this feels good,” he said, bringing one hand down to grip his package. The second his hand touched the silky sheen of his underwear, Blake saw the bulge inflate and swell. So much, that he was beginning to see the head of his mature, beer can cock pressed against the soaking fabric. “Fuck, I need to release,” Stan continued, “get down on your fucking knees, boy.”

But Blake was still admiring his creation. Only now, Stan’s transformation had far surpassed the limits of his simple statement: he was looking closer to 55 than 45, many of his hairs turning grey. His skin grew rougher and looser around his muscles, and the veins were no longer visible under the pounds of access fat and flab that he was putting on. He was still muscular, very much so, but he was more sugar daddy than pro-bodybuilder.

Blake shook his head. “I… Sorry… I’ve got…” But Stan was advancing on him, stepping forward with a seductive glint in his eye. Apparently all of his attraction for Blake was still there, and only heightened by the increased testosterone.

“Boy, I said get down,” Stan continued with a stern, fatherly gaze. For Blake, it was insanely hot, and he was just about to drop down and unveil that beast of a dick when he remembered Alex, waiting out on the gym floor. His perfect muscles, his dreamy eyes.

No. He couldn’t get distracted. Not now.

In one swift movement, he slipped past the muscle bear and out the shower door. He didn’t even look back. He booked it out of the locker room and into the gym.

Alex knew he had to be stretching. He knew he had to be getting ready for his training session. He knew he should be doing anything but staring at the guy who just walked into the gym.

And yet he was. Not in a sexual way. Alex was straight as a nail, of course. But there was something about this man, how he just sauntered in and commanded everyone’s undivided attention. Perhaps Alex was just used to being top dog at the gym; we was objectively the hottest guy, and he wasn’t naive about that fact. But when John walked in, with his jacked up muscles and cocky swagger, he put Alex to shame.

Alex was so focused on John lifting on the other side of the room, that he didn’t even notice Blake talking right next to him.

“Alex… Alex?”

“What? Sorry I… sorry. Just thinking.” Alex shook off the image of John and turned to his client. “Now, you ready to get those arms nice and big?”

“Actually,” Blake cleared his throat, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yeah sure, what up?”

Blake took a deep breath. He was so focused on the image of Alex as his boyfriend, so distracted by the image of Stan transforming in the shower stall, that he didn’t even notice until right then:

The bottle was missing.

He bent down frantically, scanning every conceivable inch of gym mat to see if he dropped it. “Hey Blake?” Alex asked, “bro, is everything okay?”

“Fine I just… sorry… have you seen a little green bottle lying around anywhere?”

Alex cocked his head. “Sorry man. I haven’t. Hey, what was it you were going to tell me?”

Blake looked up. Perhaps there was a chance the serum was still in him. That he could still say anything and have it be the truth…

“I was going to say, how does it feel to be my boyfriend?”

Alex’s stare grew glazed, his mind running wild behind his wandering eyes. And then… he laughed.

“You’re a funny dude,” Alex said, shaking his head. But then he stoped. Blake could see that his eyes were fixed on something—or someone—all the way across the room, over by the lockers. “Who on earth is that?” Alex said. Blake knew instantly: it was Stan.

Everyone gawked as this giant muscle bear, wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of briefs, sauntered out onto the floor, grinning from ear to ear like he was hiding some big secret. Blake could smell the musk coming off of him yards away, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was a huge turn on.

“Morning boys,” Stan said as he approached the two.

Alex searched for recognition in the man’s eyes. Blake thought he saw the slightest hint of genuine attraction. “Do—do I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

“Why of course you do,” Stan said with a sly wink to Blake, “we’ve been going out for almost two years now.”

Blake’s jaw dropped. It was him. Stan must have taken the potion when he dropped it on his way out of the shower. Only he couldn’t, there was no way…

But when Blake turned back to Alex, he knew the change had already begun. It was the slight glint in his eye, the way he caressed Stan’s muscular body with his gaze. But most of all, it was the obvious boner Alex was popping in his shorts.

He was gay as hell now. And gay for Stan, out of all people.

The horny trainer jumped up and embraced his new lover, furiously making out as his hands ran all over the man’s furry muscles. “Whoa,” Stan said with a laugh, “slow down there tiger. Let’s wait ‘till we get back to the house.”

“But I don’t wanna wait,” Alex whined, stroking his daddy bear’s beard. “C’mon, let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”

Blake was seething as he watched Stan slip a finger down Alex’s shorts and tickle his puckering hole. “Well, I’ve always wanted to do something public…”

“Wait, no. STOP.” They both stared at Blake, who marched up towards them. “Give me back that bottle,” he demanded, “that serum is MINE.”

“What serum?” Alex said, toying with Stan’s nipple as the burly man gave a hearty laugh.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he said with a scoff, “he’s just a dumb horny twink. Isn’t that right Blake?”

Blake shook his head. No. This couldn’t be happening. But he was already stating to feel himself shrink down. His skin grew softer as he lost about two years, and his voice grew high pitched as he pleaded: “Stop… no… please…”

“Oh yeah,” Stan said with a sick grin, “you’re a stupid daddy chaser with a giant ass and an insatiable need to get fucked. But I ain’t gonna fuck you. Alex, would you fuck him?”

Alex cocked his head, “eh, he’s a little skinny for me. LOVE that ass though.”

Ass? Blake thought. And then he felt himself swat, instinctively, letting his bulbous butt explode out of his gym shorts and jiggle up and down as a tingling feeling overtook his now tiny body.

“No… stop… fuuuuuuuuuck.” People from all over the gym were beginning to stare. Blake needed to get out of there. Fast. He ducked his eyes down and rushed back into the locker room. As he ran, his butt grew even larger, forcing him to waddle rather than walk.

The second he had a shower to himself, he slammed the door and shoved two fingers up his ass. “OH,” he moaned, violently pawing at his throbbing boy pussy as the need to be fucked grew like a primal urge inside of him. It was like being stranded in a desert without water, and his two, skinny twink fingers just weren’t cutting it.

Blake rubbed his ass up against the tile wall. Fuck, he thought, this is humiliating. Here he was, a stupid horny twink, resorting to twerking up against a shower wall because no one would fuck him. And oh how he needed to be fucked. And not just by any dick. Stan was very specific with his wording; Blake wouldn’t be satisfied until he had a massive bodybuilder dick shoved up his pulsing asshole. And where on earth was he going to find one of those?

“Need some help?” came a voice from Blake’s right. He turned to see one of the single most gorgeous guys he had ever laid eyes on standing right there, rubbing his cock through his blue briefs.

“My name is John,” the man said, “looks like you might need some help with that.” Blake wanted to say no. He wanted to find that bottle of truth serum and wreak havoc on Stan and his new boyfriend.

But he also needed to be fucked. And he was the most gorgeous specimen on the planet offering to pound him silly. How could he refuse?

Blake turned around and bent his back, sticking his bubble but straight in the air and flashing his hole. “Fuck me daddy,” escaped his lips, and he didn’t even have time to process those words before John took off his briefs, threw them aside, and reared up behind his victim.

He was already hard as a rock. Seeing Blake transform into a hungry bottom slut was one of the hotter things he’d ever seen. Now, he was ready to give that ass the pounding it deserved.

“FUUUUUCK!” Blake screamed as John’s 9 inch cock slid into his ass. There was a moment of brief pain before Blake felt his muscles relax, his sphincter clutching the veiny dick as it slid in and out, in and out, each time with more ferocity than before.

“Yeah, you like that boy?” John said, giving the jiggling piece of meat a hearty slap. Blake let out another moan. At this point, he was practically grinding down on the John’s cock. Both of them were so enamored, they didn’t even notice the fact that John was getting thinner, his hair getting darker and shaggier, or that his underwear had vanished from outside…

Blake closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Cum was spewing from his dick, but the orgasm wasn’t even close to being over. If anything being fucked put him in a place of perpetual orgasm, wherein the pleasure was so intense, that the world around him vanished into a whirlwind of color and sound. Nothing mattered but the dick slamming into his ass, and there was no way for him to notice that the guy who was fucking him was no longer a jocked up meat head, but an average college guy named…

“Hello John,” Mark said from the doorway. John spun around to see his friend, human once again, and twirling a small green bottle in-between his fingers. The spell had worn off. It was official.

Panicked, John made to move when Mark said, “oh no, you won’t stop fucking him. You’re going to keep going until I say ‘stop.’” Sure enough, John continued to pound the hungry twink’s ass, despite him being oblivious to the entire situation.

His voice was shaking as he pleaded with his former friend. “Mark, please, just let me go. I’m sorry, you won’t ever have to see me again.”

“Oh I’ll be seeing you for a long time,” Mark said with a sly smile, “why would I give you up? After all, you are my favorite dildo.”

John could feel it coming, the sinking feeling that not only had he failed and would spend the rest of his life paying for it, but that his entire body was collapsing into itself. He felt his insides compress and turn to hard silicone. He felt his hands and feet disappear into his shrinking rubber body. He tried to let out one more scream before his face was swept up into the twink’s steaming hot hole, where it would fulfill itself as the penis head to Mark’s favorite sex toy.

The very last thing he saw was Mark’s proud face, and then everything went black. Just as it did, he felt a rush of pleasure overcome him, an orgasm unlike anything a human body could experience. He screamed internally with extreme pleasure as the walls of Blake’s ass enveloped him, and within seconds, John’s body was frozen solid. Nothing but hard rubber slathered with sweat and cum.

“FUUUUUCK!” Blake let out one final shout as the last bit of cum erupted from his dick and coated the shower floor. He pulled the dildo out of his ass and looked at it, confused. That’s when he noticed Mark standing there in the shower door, smirking.

“It’s a shame,” Blake said, “I thought he was really cute.”

“Yeah,” Mark said, “but he’s always been kind of a dick.” He winked, taking the dildo from Blake’s hands and replacing it with the green bottle. “I think this belongs to you.”

Blake looked down at the truth serum. Mercifully, Mark had only taken a few drops, and though Stan had drunken two thirds of the bottle, there was enough to do a number on him—and possibly get Alex back.

“Wait,” Blake said, “where are you going?” Mark was already halfway to the exit.

He turned back. “I’ve been gone for almost a year now. I have to let everyone know I’m okay.”

“Sure… but…” Blake held up the bottle with a grin. “Don’t you wanna have some fun first? There’s enough in here for two.”

Slowly, Mark began to walk forward. “What did you have in mind.”

“The same thing as you,” Blake smiled. “Revenge.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

... And Nothing But The Truth

(You can read Part 1 HERE)

“Well, how do I look?”

Blake might have been too modest to say it, but he had done an incredible job transforming Mark. The two had decided to have a little fun with the truth serum before going back out to punish Stan. Blake had started by turning Mark into the best version of himself, which meant perfect hair, perfect muscles, and the perfect dick. He hadn’t seen it yet, but he desperately wanted too. He was still a cock-hungry bottom slut after all.

“Still horny?” Mark said, taking the words right out of his head. Blake nodded. He didn’t want to say anything out-loud in case the truth serum was still in effect. If there was anything Blake had learned today, it was to be extremely careful with this powerful elixir. Just one sip, and anything you said became the truth. Anything.

“Here,” Mark reached out a hand, “I’ll turn you into something good. Not this twink bullshit.”

“Really?” Blake said, relieved.

“Of course!” Mark said, “it’s the least I could do. You’re the reason I’ve got this incredible body instead of being wrapped around John’s disgusting ass.” He laughed as he gave a little flex, sending a fresh blush across Blake’s face.

He handed the bottle to Mark, who popped open the cap and took a couple of drops. Blake felt a pang of fear as he saw the contents of the bottle: there were only a couple of small sips left.

“Alright,” Mark said, “who’s your favorite actor?”

“Sorry?”

“Actor, celebrity, ANYONE! Someone you find hot. Someone you’ve always wanted to be.”

The question stubbed Blake. Who wouldn’t he want to be? Anyone but the flimsy, fat-assed daddy chaser he was now.

“Can it be an athlete?” Blake asked.

“Anyone,” Mark said.

The image of him had crossed his mind briefly, before sticking and growing into swarm of fantasies that were now swirling around his head. They were about to become a reality.

“Well… I’ve always thought Gus Kenworthy was really hot.”

Mark gained. “Well today’s your lucky day, because you ARE Gus Kenworthy. Pro Olympic Skier, social justice champion, and handsome, hairy, and huge piece of man meat.”

The words felt like candy to Blake’s ears. Immediately, he felt a warmth overtake him, flooding his veins like adrenaline. This was nothing like the last transformation, which felt cold, humiliating. At that moment, Blake felt like he could fly.

“Ooooohhhh…” the young man moaned. His body shivered as the flab from his over-sized bottom ass vanished, transforming into solid muscle with the perfect amount of fat. The muscle ran down his thighs, bulking them to ham-size and pressing them against his formally loose briefs. Now, the fabric highlighted every curve of his astonishingly toned lower half, hardened and chiseled from years of skiing on the slopes of Colorado.

“Is… is that my ass?” Blake stuttered.

Mark laughed, “I think the real question you should be asking is: are those your abs?”

Blake looked down. The flood of adrenaline had made its way up to his torso, where he could feel his chest tighten into a solid rack of abs, his obliques turning to hard lines leading down to his crotch.

Muscle mass filled his pecs like two sand bags, and the sudden addition of weight to his frail frame caused Blake to stumble back. By now, his whole body had gone numb. He couldn’t feel himself fall to the floor, he couldn’t even hear himself moaning and screaming in intense pleasure. He could only feel the heat and the testosterone as it continued to shape and expand his muscles, broaden his frame, and cover his skin with a fresh layer of dusty blonde hair and tattoos.

“FFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK.” His hands were running wild across his body. His arms had just finished packing on lean muscle when the final muscle began its long awaited transformation. Blake had never seen Gus’ dick. He could only imagine the meat that guy was packing under all those snow clothes. But when Mark had said “huge piece of man meat,” he wasn’t just talking about his body…

It started out like the beginning of an orgasm. All the muscles around the base of his dick tense, all the blood went from his muscles down towards his crotch, sending fresh shivers throughout the rest of his body.

His head jerked. His mouth dropped. And Blake—or rather Gus—let out one final moan before firing his load off into his underwear. As he did, his dick grew by a full four inches, almost bursting the seams of the wet boxers as his tiny twink cock transformed into a true Olympic penis.

It was a full minute before Gus’ eyesight returned. The intensity of the orgasm was such that he could barely see anything. When he finally did, the first thing he saw was Mark, his gorgeous jock body hovering over him. He reached out a hand, helping Gus to his feet.

“Here,” he said, handing him a bottle of water, “you need to replenish.”

Gus took a big sip, and handed the bottle back to Mark. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his sweaty, bulging muscles sending a fresh rush of lust through his newly transformed body. He couldn’t stop looking at himself, admiring his olympian form, his handsome scruff, his irresistible smile.

“Fuck man… I’m hot as hell!”

“You must be,” Mark said, “neither John or me ever came like that when we transformed. As a matter of fact… we never came at all.”

“Well,” Gus said, “I guess it must have been how you said it.” He leaned in to give his new friend a kiss…

…But he pulled back. “Um… sorry.” Mark gave a nervous laugh. “I’m straight, actually. I’ve got a girlfriend. Well, I had a girlfriend a year ago. God knows where she is now.”

“I’m sorry.” Gus said, visibly disappointed.

Mark gave a weary smile, “I just don’t feel that way about guys, you know?”

A light went off in Gus’ head. “Do you want to?”

“Sorry?”

“Be gay. Or bi. I mean… wouldn’t it be nice to broaden your horizons?”

“I mean sure but, I can’t just choose to be gay.” At the same time, they both looked down at the truth serum, then back up at each other.

“You’re not suggesting—“

“—It would be totally up to you!” Gus said, defensive. “I know you were forced to change in the past. I don’t want to force you to do anything now.”

Mark looked into Gus’—or Blake’s—eyes. He saw a man who he admired, even if he wasn’t attracted to him per-sea. But deep down, he knew that he wanted to be.

“Sure,” he smiled, handing Gus back the bottle, “why not?”

No one in the gym ever used the sauna. It was relatively tiny, tucked away in the back of the locker rooms, and the temperature controls never really worked. However, this made it the perfect spot for a late night hookup, which was exactly what Gus anticipated would happen.

He closed the door behind Mark. He paced around in eager anticipation. “Did you drink it?”

Gus nodded as he held up the bottle. “There’s enough for one more sip after this,” he said with an air of gloom. After a moment of silence, Gus smiled cleared his throat. “Well, by order of the truth serum, I hereby declare you, Mark, bisexual.”

Silence. Mark looked around the room, then down at himself. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know,” Gus said, “that’s a question only you can answer.”

But Mark didn’t feel any different. He always thought changing his sexuality would come with fireworks, images of big wet dicks flooding his mind, but none of that was the case. Instead, he found himself taking notice of different things. About Gus. The way his muscles got all sweaty and glistening in the heat of the sauna, the way his pecs heaved up and down as he breathed in the hot air, the way his trail of hair pointed down from his six pack abs to his…

“Oh—“ Mark stumbled back onto the bench. His dick was hard as steel, fighting to get out of his underwear. He looked up at Gus, almost as if for approval. He smiled, nodded, and Mark got to removing his briefs.

It was the first time Gus got to see the dick he had created. It flopped out of the black fabric, a tiny bit of pre cum flicking out onto Mark’s sweaty chest, and waved in the air, unbalanced by its own weight. And as he watched Mark start to play around with it, he felt his hand instinctively move down towards his crotch, where his own dick was starting to awaken.

“Fuuuuuck man,” Mark said as he continued to beat off. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasure while Gus removed his underwear and got on his knees. He didn’t notice the olympic athlete’s mouth above his cock until he felt something hot and wet swallow all 8 inches of his salty stick.

He opened his eyes. Gus Kenworthy was on all fours, chocking on his dick like a pro. Mark gasped. The image alone was enough to send him over the edge, but with the intuition of someone who’d been doing this a long time, Gus took the cock out of his mouth and stroked it, slowly.

“I got you pretty close, didn’t I?” Gus said, a little bit of cum dripping from his smiling mouth.

Mark could only nod. “I… I didn’t know liking guys could be this much fun.”

“Oh and it only get better,” Gus said. He grabbed Mark’s ass and flipped him over. Mark gasped. The strength with with Gus was able to maneuver him around was so hot, that he found himself flashing his hole even before Gus reared up behind him.

The heat was so intense, both from the sauna and from inside of him, that he found himself saying and doing things that he never thought. “Fuck me,” Mark whispered, shoving his ass up against Gus, and twitching as he felt the weight of his meat slap on his exposed hole.

But Gus wanted him to enjoy this. Instead of shoving it right in, he grinded his cock up against Mark’s crack, feeling the warmth in-between his cheeks, and letting his sweat and pre cum lube up his continually flashing hole.

This drove Mark nuts. Within moments, he was moaning, loudly, begging for Gus’ cock. So much so, that Gus was scared someone would walk in at that very second. He leaned down and whispered to Mark, “you ready for this dick?”

“Yes… yes…” Mark said in-between groans. Gus smiled, leaned back, and slid himself inside.

Mark screamed. He was tight as hell, which was to be expected. He’d never had anything up his ass before, but when the sharp feeling of pain had passed, a euphoria unlike anything he had ever experience swept over his body. Gus’ dick was so long, it went straight for his prostate. With every thrust, Mark felt himself grow hotter and hotter, the sweat coming off his his muscles in sheets.

“FUCK!” He was cumming. Already. They had been fucking for less than as minute when Mark’s cock started to spew seed all over the bench bellow. It just kept coming, the cum, and the sheer image of Mark creaming over his dick was more than enough to send Gus over the edge as well.

“Fuck I’m… I’m… UGGGGHHHHH!” Gus thrust forward, freezing as his body tensed and shot yet another load, this time straight down Mark’s formally straight hole. Mark could feel Gus tense and writhe behind him, his body slammed up against his ass and hamstrings, sending more warmth throughout his ever scorching body.

The orgasms lasted longer than the actual fucking, but once both boys were done, they flopped down on the bench, panting hard.

“Better than straight sex?” Gus asked.

Mark laughed. “I’ll tell you next time I see my girlfriend,” he said, and patted Gus on the leg. “Thank you,” he looked into his eyes, “for everything.”

Gus smiled, nodding to the door. “Want to watch me turn Stan into something crazy?”

“Oh yes.”

Frank checked his watch for the third time in an hour. The hands on the little metal face seemed to be crawling towards the “12:00,” and he knew when they did, he would finally be able to close the gym. Normally, most of the people left by 8:00, and he would get to close early, go out drinking with his friends, and relax at home with some Netflix. But tonight was different. Tonight, he had to stay ‘till the very last second because, remarkably, the gym wasn’t empty. Remarkably, Stan—or the aging bodybuilder who referred to himself as “Stan”—and Alex were still there, pounding out reps at the benches, feeling each other’s hot, sweaty muscles and exchanging long, impassioned kisses in between sets.

“Can we go home now?” Alex whimpered like a little girl. When he heard this, Frank sat up in his seat. Was this finally it?

“Just a few more sets,” Stan said patting his boyfriend, each one landing on Alex’s thick chest with a loud *thud. “I wanted that ass pumped and plump by the time we get to bed.” He slapped Alex’s butt. Frank rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and preparing for another half hour of gay smooching.

And that’s when he heard a voice come from the locker rooms. “HEY!” someone called. Frank looked up to see two new guys standing out overlooking the mat, eyes glued on Stan with righteous fury. Frank didn’t recognize either of them, and all he could think as they walked forward was: how the hell did they get in here?

Stan threw up his arms. “You boys wanna join the party?” he said with a jolly smile. But Blake—or Gus rather—was not smiling.

“Oh come on Stan,” Gus said, “don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own freshman year lab partner.”

Stan’s brain worked like molasses as he put all the pieces together. First Blake, then Gus, and now… the truth serum. He frantically patted around his pockets for the small green bottle, but then he realized he didn’t have any pockets; he was wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of briefs.

“Looking for this?” the guy next to Blake said, holding up the small bottle. Stan lunged forward and grabbed it out of his hand. He uncorked the top and put it to his lips. Nothing. He shook the bottle. It was empty.

“Look’s like your luck has run out Stan,” Gus said, “I took the last sip.”

Stan reached over and grabbed Alex’s wrist. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Right now.” But Alex was transfixed on Gus’ body, lust burning at the corners of his gaze. “ALEX!”

“Alex,” Gus said, “don’t listen to that cranky old man. He’s not your boyfriend. I AM.”

In an instant, Alex pulled out of Stan’s vice grip and huddled behind Gus, feeling up his toned muscles and staring at Stan in fear and confusion. Suddenly, he was alone.

Stan dropped to his knees. “Please,” he pleaded with Gus, “just turn me back to normal. Please, I’ll be ugly again, I’m so sorry. Just make me normal.”

“I you will be normal,” Gus said, “in a few days, all of this will be just a strange bad dream. But until then, I think you’ve got to spend some time thinking about what you’ve done. And since you were so obsessed with getting into Alex’s pants, that’s where you’re going to spend it.”

Stan gasped. The air sucked right out of his lungs. He looked down to his chest to see that he was getting thinner. Flatter. He looked back up at Gus, a silent plea to reverse the transformation, but it was too late. He was shrinking down his face hollowing out and becoming white and silky.

His arms turned back and elastic, his legs sucking back up into his chest to form two large holes, and his back ballooning out into the shape of an ass, only to grow hollow and airy, just like the rest of him. By the time Alex removed his clothes and walked over to Stan, he was nothing but a pair of briefs, which Alex took and slid up his muscular legs.

Though he couldn’t express it verbally, Stan felt an inward feeling of euphoria as Alex’s cock filled up his face, as his pumped up ass pressed against his fabric. Though he knew it was only temporary, he also wouldn’t have minded becoming the hot personal trainer’s underwear. Permanently.

“How do I look?” Alex said, flexing and showing off to Gus, “I’ll let you do whatever you want with his body when we get home.”

Even as Gus imagined how amazing that would be, he knew exactly what he had to do. “Thanks Alex,” he said with a weary smile, “but I can’t. You’re going to go home. You’re going to go to bed, and you’re going to forget this day ever happened. I’ll see you for our training session next week.”

And with that, Alex put his clothes back on, and left.

Mark turned to Gus, mouth agape. “You just let him go?”

Gus picked up the empty bottle from the ground, fiddling with it in his hand. “I can’t have this much power,” he finally said, “nobody can. It’s not fair. It’s fun while it lasts, but you know better than anyone how dangerous it can be.”

Mark shuttered as he remembered all those months plastered onto John’s big sweaty body. “I suspect I’d enjoy it now that I like guys,” Mark said with a laugh, “but I get what you mean.”

They shared a moment of silence. After a minute or two, Gus said, “Alex is going to be pretty surprised when Stan randomly pops out of his drawers in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Mark laughed, “that’ll be something.”

“EXCUSE ME??” Frank called from behind the counter, “DO YOU SEE THAT CLOCK? 12:15. TIME. TO. LEAVE.”

As the two men made their way to the door, Mark turned to Gus and asked: “what are you going to do now?”

“Well, with a body this nice, I suspect anything I want. It shouldn’t be hard finding a real boyfriend at this rate.”

“Well maybe…” Mark stepped closer to him, “maybe you don’t have to.”

Gus looked confused. Then, he realized. “Don’t you have to find your girlfriend?”

Mark shrugged. “She’s probably found some other guy anyway. I know I have.” He smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. It was so passionate, so hot, that Gus could feel his dick sprinting up in his shorts. “Wow,” Mark said, feeling the Olympian’s dick through his pants, “someone’s excited.”

Gus winked. He took Mark’s hand, and they walked off together into the night.

“HELLO?” Frank called, “Anyone here?”

Mercifully, the locker room was empty. Finally, he thought, I can go home.

But just as he was walking out past the showers, he tripped on something. “Jesus!” he yelped, “what the fuck?” He looked down.

“These gay guys, I swear…” he reached town tenderly and picked up the long silicone dildo with two fingers. It wobbled seductively in his pinched grip.

Frank double checked to make sure the room was empty. When he was sure, he slipped it into his bag and rushed out of the room. No one needs to know, he thought. 

Besides, it’s not like I’m going to actually use it… right?

THE END

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…