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[georgewolf14]

The Chrisening

“So the time is- Woah!”

David didn’t expect the oil to kick in so suddenly as he watched his torso bloat out into a mighty fine example of raw power and musculature from his well built biceps and a chest that made it almost impossible to look down at his rock hard abs. It was hard to tell but from the looks of things, his body was only just getting started and he smiled towards the camera that was recording it all. He bounced his pecs for the camera as he continued grinning from ear to ear.

“Looks like that Chris oil I was talking about kicked in,” said David, grunting as he began to feel his own hands catching up to the process, a great heat within his body that spread from his muscled torso all the way to his hands. The both of them starting to enlarge and accomodate the muscular body that he was fast developing, waves of pleasure beginning to emanate from the pit of his stomach, the same stomach that possessed his clear cut abs. “As I was saying, in Lyonesse there seems-” The sounds of rips and tears interrupted David as he could start to see that his legs were becoming far too long and wide for his own jeans. “Seems to be a lot of sources for transformation a lot of- Oh god…Products!”

A large rip suddenly sounded from David’s ass as he lurched forward, the rip only growing more as his thighs began to force themselves out of the jeans and his ass continued to swell. The waves of pleasure that once emanated from his stomach now began pulsing throughout his body from his ass, as if he was being pounded again and again as his hole began growing slightly.

“Oh that’s un-unexpected! Anyway-” Another rip came from the front, the buttons to his jeans all popped at once as his cock began to bulge out of both his pants and his underwear (which was already being stretched to its limits from his ass). “God, that feels so good! But- but the point is transformation doesn't just have to be- have to be about yourself it- Oh fuck!” His cock throbbed. “It could also transform environment as I-”

Another groan, another throb of his cock and another rip as his jeans gave way and allowed the muscle of his upper thighs to spill out into the open air. He had barely realised at this point that he was correct in his hypothesis, the room around him began to change, the plain walls becoming covered in stripes that arranged themselves into odd patterns.

David tried his best to stop himself from cumming but knew that it was practically going to happen, from his research for this documentary about transformation it happened all the time, even when it was risky at making the transformation perhaps a bit too pertinent.

“As I transform and get…bigger-” David couldn’t believe it but he was getting bigger, even his torso too which was almost pulled up as his back stretched and he could hear the bones click, his body becoming less tense all around. He sighed in open relief at the feeling of release for his muscles, once feeling so heavy and almost unnatural, now felt like a real part of his body as his legs elongated too. His hands were now in perfect size to his brawny arms and his feet were next, the toes extending forward like the red stripes that developed on the floor underneath. His soles widened slightly as David was greeted with the sight of size thirteen feet. “The room seems to get bigger too, I think, I feel like I’m almost done- Dick can’t stop…growing!”

David’s hand wanted to wrap around his expanding length but he resisted, almost ready to grab it if it tried, as he kept his mouth shut, stifling his moans as much as he could and trying to hide his arousal from the camera. But by now it was far too late and as the blonde hair replaced David’s brown, as beautiful larger eyes adorned David’s visage and the features continued shifting and aligning with that of Chris Hemsworth, David stopped stifling and let his body almost go limp as he reached such a state of edging that almost took his breath away before he finally released, allowing cum to stain the new white and red floor.

David, or rather Chris, did everything he could not to collapse as he caught his breath from the orgasm as he looked around the room. His pants were thankfully back on, instead of the loose blue he was once wearing, they were now a tight black that kept his ass and crotch in line.

He was coughing and grunting as David felt his own throat.

“Well I- Oh…Oh I wasn’t expecting that,” David laughed to himself at the sound of his suddenly Australian accent and deep voice. He only stopped when he saw the camera was there and coughed to himself. “Right well, this is David, I am now in the body of Chris Hemsworth and it seemed the Chris oil worked. As you can see around me, it looks like the room also transformed into maybe a movie studio or something? But this is just one example of-”

David felt some stirring and coughed again, it was as if his own voice suddenly faltered back to something else.

“It’s just an example of the effects transformation can have around you…” David cut himself short as he started stepping towards the camera, muttering to himself “Better edit that last part out.”

However just as David went to grab the camera, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, grabbing at it before he heard his stomach churn just before he felt his cock erect once again as if he didn’t just cum twice his usual loud moments ago.

“Wait what’s…That’s not meant to happen!” David suddenly looked around at the room to see that it seemed to start appearing so much smaller when, but he knew the size wasn’t changing, walls were beginning to construct around him. He gulped, trying to reach for the camera but unable to as he felt his fingers shrink ever so slightly, all while his arms still stayed the same, if anything they appeared broader just not as muscular.

He quickly let his changing hands reach down and undo his jeans, witnessing his legs as something similar occured to his own thighs, still the same and if anything only wider due to some small sliver of fat that hanged on. His heart skipped a beat, noticing that the same pleasurable heat continued to spread throughout his body all while he managed to barely take his underwear off in time before his cock flopped out. At the very least he knew it had no correlation to the actual size of the celebrity because by now his cock was almost inhumanly long at ten inches, continuing to grow and lengthen out the more he denied himself the sweet pleasure of release.

It was just then at David’s confusion and a thirst for answers (mingled in with a thirst for pleasure), a mirror materialised in front of him floating for just a moment before David blinked and could see the wall practically constructing around him, to see the shifting facial features in front of him. They were already too different to be Chris Hemsworth, the hair was darker and the eyes just closer together and even larger but David could recognise it.

“No! I’m meant to turn into just one Chris…The oil said…Not more! Oh fuck!” David’s panic left him lacking control of his hands, one of them starting to masturbate his ten inch cock and the other going back to his ass, the finger teasing his hole before starting to slowly sink in. First one finger and then another and then another, before David knew it, he was a moaning mess, leaning over the counter and sink that appeared before him and fingering his ass whilst practically fucking his hand as he saw his body grow brawnier and broader.

The definition of muscle was somewhat lost but that didn’t stop David from admiring his still sexy form as he felt the new jawline settle in, the blonde hair and beard lost forever as he became more clean shaven and just as his fingers began to ram into his prostate, David moaned and his larger cock came once again. He looked at the cum that splattered his mirror and the image of Chris Pratt that stared back.

“God, okay, okay let’s uhh let’s think…” David realised he was in some sort of bathroom, quickly getting a towel to wipe away the cum and finding something to put on just as he realised the camera was there. However, whilst he should’ve been embarrassed (even if he was going to edit it out), a cocky smirk came across David’s face instead. “Well just uhh change of plans, the oil had some other uhh…other…effects.” David’s mind felt foggy, it was like words were draining out of him as he could barely remember what to say.

He resisted the urge to flex in the mirror.

“But like I said this all has an effect on the room too, and-” David couldn’t even concentrate on how hard it was to come by words when he felt his cock get erect again, throbbing as if he hadn’t masturbated in weeks as both hands went to grab the kitchen counter. “God damn it…No please, not again! Can’t take it!”

David moaned even as his hand came down to his length regardless and began to masturbate away

“Maybe if I just come, maybe just get it…get it over with. Oh fuck that feels so good!” Like a balloon, his biceps instantly grew, suddenly full of more muscle and making him far more broad shouldered than he already was. It was just at that moment as he continued quickly masturbating that he began to feel tense, that same heavy feeling of unnatural muscle bludgeoning him as his arms started being unable to barely move. “No! No please…let me come…wanna come so bad…”

He almost whimpered, moaning as the environment around David changed, the image of Chris Pratt falling into an oddly familiar pod was the last thing he saw before the mirror itself disappeared with the walls to create a larger empty room. David could barely place what was left of his memory on it, but he knew that this room, this setup was something similar but he just couldn’t understand.

His length dribbled with pre-cum, the head so frustratingly sensitive and glistening, begging him to just touch it, just one stroke to set him off all while his pants didn’t give way but just change to seem browner and more baggy. David tried to think…tried to think…but all he wanted to do was see himself and he tried to pull himself up, tried to catch at least a glimpse of the sweaty set of deep and large abs that were now on his giant torso.

He continued sweating, it was if his muscle bound body wouldn’t let him cum then it would also make it as strenuous as possible for him. It was just his visage that needed to change, the jawline stayed as sharp as ever but the blondeness returned to his hair as David closed his eyes, he couldn’t even see his features if he tried. There was nothing around him to help, just this odd pod that sustained his musculature and it was at that moment he realised.

If the oil could change him into any Chris, perhaps it could have changed them to any version of themselves, even the characters they played.

But this thought disappeared as fast as it came, his eleven inch cock twitched as a tight pair of boxer briefs appeared underneath, rubbing against the head. That was all the stimulation it needed to let loose waves of cum once again, giving release to a great orgasm and special kind of pleasure that not even David could ever resist, as his mind wiped away and left Chris…just Chris, still in that pod, in that familiar movie set and with that great body.

The last parts of David hoped the camera caught everything.

If you want to read more stories like this, then check them out here!

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🐃 Bucking Bronco 🐂

Jake slouched in his office chair, eyes glazed over from hours of staring at a computer screen. The city buzzed around him, but he felt numb to it. The relentless clamor, the towering buildings, the rush of people—it was draining. The city had once been exciting, but now it just felt like a cage.

He sighed, leaning back, wondering if this was it. His life had turned into a cycle: work, home, sleep, repeat. There had to be more. He longed for something simpler, something that felt real.

That evening, he found himself at a local dive bar, his usual escape. As he nursed his drink, a figure caught his eye—a man at the other end of the bar. Broad-shouldered, dressed in a worn flannel, cowboy boots tapping lightly against the floor, and a cowboy hat perched low on his head. He looked out of place in the city but completely at ease. The man’s presence radiated confidence, something Jake hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jake couldn’t help but stare. The man caught his gaze, raised an eyebrow, and motioned for Jake to come over.

“What’s eatin’ at ya?” the man asked in a low, easy drawl. His voice was calm, steady, like he had all the time in the world.

Jake chuckled nervously. “Life, I guess. Just feels like I’m stuck.”

The cowboy grinned, flashing a bit of understanding. “You look like you’re searching for something, son. I used to be in the same boat, till I figured out what I needed.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

The cowboy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, flipping through something until he found what he was looking for. “Here,” he said, sliding the phone across the table. “Watch this video. Changed my life, and it might just do the same for you.”

Jake hesitated, then grabbed the phone. It was a subliminal—the screen flashed with phrases like “strength,” “discipline,” “confidence,” and “cowboy.” He smirked. Subliminals? He didn’t buy into that kind of thing, but something about this man, his confidence, his calmness—it was intriguing.

“I’ll give it a shot,” Jake said, not fully convinced.

The cowboy tipped his hat. “Might be what you’re lookin’ for, son. Embrace it, and you’ll be surprised where it takes you.”

The next morning, Jake sat at his kitchen table, staring at his phone, his curiosity getting the better of him. He hit play on the video. The music was soft at first, but soon it picked up—a low hum of country tunes overlaid with affirmations. Phrases flashed on the screen: strength, discipline, focus, cowboy grit.

Jake scoffed at first but decided to let it play while he worked from home. The video rolled on in the background, and slowly, something inside him began to shift.

Over the next few days, Jake felt… different. It was subtle at first, almost like a shift in the background of his mind, but as the days went on, the change became undeniable. At work, where the constant hum of city life usually gnawed at him, something had shifted. The noise of the city—horns blaring, engines rumbling, people rushing past in a frenzy—had always felt like an attack on his senses. But now, it was like his mind had learned to filter it out. The overwhelming rush of coworkers demanding this and that suddenly felt less important, like background noise rather than a storm he had to weather. Jake wasn’t reacting to every little inconvenience like before. Instead, he felt… steady.

He couldn’t explain it, but it was as if something inside him had found its footing. Where there had been anxiety, there was now calm. Where there had been stress, there was a sense of grounded strength. It was almost as if nothing could shake him anymore, as if he had discovered a deeper part of himself that thrived on patience and discipline. The chaos of the city didn’t matter as much now, because somewhere inside him, he was becoming someone bigger, someone stronger than the noise around him.

Then there was the gym.

Jake had always been someone who dabbled in working out. He’d go for a jog every now and then, maybe hit the weights when he felt guilty about skipping too many days, but it had never been serious. Now, though, something inside him had woken up. There was an urge that hadn’t been there before, a desire to push himself that felt raw and real.

One evening after work, instead of heading straight home like usual, Jake found himself walking into the gym with a sense of purpose. Without even thinking about it, he made his way to the free weights, eyeing the barbell in front of him. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt compelled to load more weight than he ever had before. Maybe it was the subliminal taking effect, or maybe it was something deeper within him that had finally stirred awake.

He gripped the bar, feeling the strain as he hoisted it up. The weight was heavy—heavier than anything he’d lifted in a long time—but instead of stopping when his muscles began to ache, he pushed through it. There was a strange kind of satisfaction in the burn, in knowing that he was going beyond his limits. Strength and discipline became his mantras as he lifted, each rep feeling like a step toward something bigger, something stronger. It was no longer just about the physical challenge; it was about mastering himself.

By the time he left the gym, drenched in sweat, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years—pride. Not just in the effort he’d put in, but in the realization that he could be more. That night, as he showered and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, something else caught his attention. His shoulders—they looked broader. His arms seemed fuller, his chest tighter. He brushed it off as the post-workout pump, but the next morning, when he looked again, the change was still there.

As the days passed, the transformation continued. Jake’s body wasn’t just changing—it was growing. His shirts started to fit differently, snug across his chest and arms. He found himself flexing in front of the mirror after every gym session, admiring the way his muscles swelled under his skin. The pleasure he took from seeing his growing physiquewas undeniable, and with each flex, he felt a surge of confidence he hadn’t known he needed.

It was satisfying in a way he never anticipated. The bulky cowboy build he had admired on the man in the bar—the cowboy who had given him the video—was now becoming his own. He felt powerful in a way that was more than just physical. It was as if the strength he was building in the gym was seeping into his mind, reinforcing that calm, grounded feeling he’d been experiencing.

But it wasn’t just his body that was transforming—his mind was changing too.

Jake’s tastes began to shift in ways he hadn’t anticipated. He found himself taking an interest in things that had once seemed distant, even irrelevant. At first, it was subtle—a feeling, a slight tug when he passed a country station on the radio. He couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about the twang of the guitar and the way the lyrics captured a sense of simplicity, of life lived at a slower, more meaningful pace.

He resisted it at first, brushing it off as a fluke, but as the days passed, country music started to sneak its way into his playlists. It wasn’t long before he found himself actively seeking it out, drawn to the stories being told in the songs—the honesty, the grit, the appreciation for the small things. Lyrics about long dirt roads, endless skies, and working with your hands spoke to something deep within him, something that felt almost forgotten.

The more he listened, the more it felt like home—a place he had never been but somehow knew. The noise of the city, once his soundtrack, began to feel hollow, like it was missing something real. The lyrics in the songs reminded him of a life that was stripped down, pure, and authentic, and as he absorbed more, he felt a pull inside, something that whispered that this was the life he had been missing. It was as though the music was gently coaxing him to remember who he was meant to be.

It wasn’t just the music. Images of open fields, horses galloping, the simple joy of watching the sunset from a porch—all of it stirred something in him. It was like a veil had lifted, and he began to see the appeal of the cowboy lifestyle. The rush of city life, the constant pressure to move, to climb, to consume—it all started to feel like a distant memory, something that had once held meaning but now seemed meaningless.

One weekend, without much thought, Jake wandered into a western wear store. The smell of leather hit him as soon as he walked through the door, earthy and rich, filling the air with a sense of tradition and strength. For a moment, he hesitated, glancing around the store with a bit of uncertainty. This wasn’t him, he thought, or at least, not the version of himself he’d always known. The Jake who wore button-down shirts and polished shoes didn’t belong in a place like this.

But then, something shifted. He couldn’t explain it, but there was a pull. The smell of the leather, the rows of cowboy boots, the racks of flannel shirts—it all felt right. Like he had been here before, like he belonged. He found his feet moving almost automatically, drawn toward a pair of cowboy boots that caught his eye—classic, brown leather, with a worn-in look that spoke of adventure and resilience. Without much thought, he picked them up and tried them on. They fit perfectly.

The feeling didn’t stop there. His hands moved to a pair of jeans, thick and sturdy, built for work, not just for show. Next came the flannel shirt, its weight and warmth settling over his shoulders as if it was made for him. Each item felt like it was calling to him, like they were pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t realized he needed to complete.

When he stepped into the changing room and put them all on together—the boots, the jeans, the flannel—he felt something click. As he looked at himself in the mirror, his breath caught. The man staring back at him was different. The broad shoulders, the muscular arms that strained against the fabric of the flannel, the rugged look—he didn’t just see a reflection. He saw strength, capability, a man who was connected to the earth, to something primal and real. He looked like someone who worked with his hands, who knew how to take care of himself.

He flexed, watching his biceps swell under the fabric, the seams stretching with the movement. A grin spread across his face. He felt powerful, like he was stepping into the man he was always meant to be—one who was grounded, strong, and in control. There was a pleasure in it, a satisfaction that came not just from how he looked but from how it made him feel inside. The clothes were more than just clothes. They were a symbol of the change he was undergoing, a physical manifestation of the strength he had been building—both inside and out.

It wasn’t long before hunting and fishing became his weekend routine. Jake found himself rising with the sun, craving the stillness of early mornings by the lake or in the woods, rifle slung over his shoulder, or fishing rod in hand. There was something almost meditative about it—the way the world felt calm and silent, the only sound his breath, the crunch of dirt under his boots, the rustle of leaves in the wind. The quiet of nature was the opposite of the city, and it gave him something the city never could: peace.

But it was more than just peace. The patience required in hunting, the skill needed to wait for just the right moment—it all felt right. Every time he lined up his shot or cast his line, he felt connected to something ancient, something essential. The physical strength he had built in the gym had a purpose here. It wasn’t just for looks. It made him feel capable, in control, like he could handle anything the world threw at him.

The rest of his old life started to fade away. The noisy nights at crowded bars, the constant pressure to stay on top of things that didn’t really matter—it all started to seem so… irrelevant. Instead, Jake started watching videos made by cowboy content creators, following guys who lived the life he was slowly stepping into. They talked about rodeo, horse riding, and working on trucks. He found himself nodding along, absorbing every bit of their wisdom, eager to learn.

It wasn’t just learning—it was becoming. He was becoming something more, something truer to himself. One afternoon, as he got under his pickup truck to change the oil, his hands covered in grease, he couldn’t help but smile. This was real. The feel of the tools in his hands, the satisfaction of fixing something with his own strength—it was what he had been missing all along. Each turn of the wrench, each smear of grease on his skin felt like a connection to the life he was embracing.

For the first time in his life, Jake felt truly in control. Not just of his body, but of his mind, his life. He was becoming the man he was always meant to be—a cowboy, through and through.

Finally, after weeks of change, Jake found himself back at the same bar where it all started. The city lights flickered outside, but they seemed dull compared to the quiet strength he felt within himself. He walked into the bar, boots heavy against the wooden floor, his stride confident, his presence commanding. The weight of his broad shoulders, the bulkof his arms straining against his flannel, and the calm demeanor he now carried set him apart from the crowd. He felt more than just different—he felt like he belonged somewhere else, somewhere deeper.

The cowboy was there again, sitting at the counter, his hat tipped low. It felt like a full circle, like Jake had come back not as the man he had been but as the cowboy he had become. He slid onto the stool next to the man, a quiet confidence radiating from him.

The cowboy glanced up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, look at you, partner. You’ve changed.”

Jake nodded. “More than I expected. I didn’t realize how far off track I’d gotten.”

The cowboy chuckled, his voice steady and warm. “That’s life. Sometimes you lose sight of what’s real, what’s true. But it looks like you found your way back.”

Jake looked down at his hands, calloused now from working on his truck, from hunting, fishing, and lifting at the gym. He didn’t need to say anything. He felt it in every fiber of his being. Strength, not just in his body, but in his mind and in the way he faced the world. He had become something more—grounded, disciplined, and powerful. He wasn’t just another city guy trying to fit in. He was a cowboy, inside and out.

But as Jake looked around the bar, he noticed something else. He saw others, the way they slouched in their chairs, glued to their phones, drowning their stress in drinks. It was the way he used to be, always chasing something but never feeling truly connected to anything real. Now, he could see it so clearly—the potential in them, untapped, waiting to be unleashed. They were like ponies, timid, lost, unaware of the strength they held inside, waiting to become bucking broncos—waiting for someone to show them the way.

Over the next few weeks, Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do more, not just for himself, but for others. He had found something real, something powerful, and he wanted to share it. When he talked to his friends, his coworkers, even strangers he met at the gym, he could see it in their eyes—that same restlessness he once felt. The dissatisfaction with the grind, the search for something meaningful.

Jake started to subtly plant the seeds, talking about his transformation, about the cowboy code he had adopted, the simplicity of the country life. At first, they were skeptical—laughing off his suggestions, joking about his new flannel-and-boots look—but Jake didn’t mind. He could see beyond their reactions. He could see the potential in them, the part of them that craved the same thing he had craved—freedom, strength, and a sense of purpose.

“You’re chasing the wrong things,” he would tell them, his voice calm and confident. “You don’t need the city noise, the pressure, the constant distractions. What you need is something real. Something that makes you stronger—inside and out.”

Some brushed him off. But others… others listened. Slowly, they started to come to him for advice, curious about the changes they saw in him. Jake became a mentor, guiding them through the same steps he had taken. He showed them how to build physical strength, but more importantly, he showed them how to find mental strength. How to stay calm under pressure, how to live with honor and discipline, and how to embrace the cowboy lifestyle that had given him so much clarity.

He started taking a few of them to the gym, pushing them through workouts the way he had pushed himself, watching with pride as their bodies began to change. But it wasn’t just about the physical transformation. It was about helping them unlock that mental resilience, the calm strength that had become his foundation. He encouraged them to get out of the city, to take up hunting, fishing, and working with their hands. He knew that the more they embraced the cowboy code, the stronger they would become, not just in their bodies but in their minds and in the way they faced life.

For Jake, it was about more than just muscle or a new wardrobe. It was about turning ponies into broncos—guiding those who felt lost or weak into becoming the powerful, capable people he knew they could be. He could see the wild strength in them, the potential to break free from the chains of their old lives and ride through life with confidence, just as he had.

Each day, he watched them transform—slowly at first, then with more certainty. Their shoulders squared, their voices deepened, their confidence growing with each step they took toward the cowboy life. Jake felt a surge of pride with every person he helped, knowing he was giving them more than just advice. He was giving them the tools to become themselves, the strongest, most resilient versions of who they were meant to be.

One evening, after a long day of working with a few of his friends, Jake found himself back at the same bar where his journey had started. He leaned back against the bar, cowboy boots scuffed and dusty, his flannel rolled up to his elbows. He smiled as he glanced around the room, noticing the subtle changes in the people he’d helped. He’d started something—something bigger than himself.

The cowboy from that first night appeared again, almost like a figure of fate. He sidled up next to Jake at the bar, his familiar grin back in place. “Looks like you’ve been busy, partner.”

Jake nodded, his voice steady. “More than I thought I’d be. They’re coming around, one by one.”

The cowboy tipped his hat, looking around the bar, the room filled with people who were on the same path Jake had once walked. “That’s the thing about cowboys,” he said, voice low. “We don’t just ride for ourselves. We ride for others. Show them the way.”

Jake smiled, looking down at his hands. “Yeah,” he said. “We do.”

As he stood there, feeling the quiet satisfaction of not just his own transformation but the changes he had sparked in others, Jake realized that he had become more than just a cowboy. He had become a leader—someone who lived by the cowboy code, someone who helped others find their way back to what was real.

And as he looked around the bar, he knew he wasn’t done. There were still ponies out there—waiting to become broncos.

[georgewolf14]

Jordan Torres

[georgewolf14]

Reno Gold and Peter Korth photographed by Corey Myers for 'Homme Fatale' by Patrick Church

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Colorful cock & horse....

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[georgewolf14]

[georgewolf14]

The New Doctor

“Oh come on, another one?” Dr. Luke Hoffer groaned as his pager went off.

Another patient to add to the growing list. He walked briskly towards the room where his newest patient awaited him. The young doctor knew he shouldn’t feel this burnt out already. He just graduated medical school a few months ago, but they weren’t lying when they said this part of his training would be busy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had a night off, and the hospital he was rotating at didn’t have the best clinical support. But he did his best to put on a smile as he entered his new patient’s room.

“Bro, what’s up?” Luke maintained his smile but inwardly cringed.

“Mr. Reedy, correct?” Luke asked. The name sounded familiar. One of the senior doctors shared the same last name. But unlike Dr. Reedy, this man looked like your stereotypical bro. Similar to the frat guys who Luke used to see piss drunk during his college EMS days, “I see you must’ve injured your arm there.”

“Dude, the name is Cole.” Cole chuckled dumbly, “Mr. Reedy is my dad’s name.” Luke nodded. He didn’t have time for this, “But yeah broski, totally wiped out. Brett said I couldn’t climb a tree drunk, but like I knew I could.”

‘Evidently not.’ Luke thought, jotting down a few notes.

“And like, I know what you’re thinking. Broken arm. Must’ve fucked up and like I did, bro. But I made it to the top.” Cole smirked and went to punch the air victoriously but recoiled from the pain, “So yeah doc. That’s why I’m here.”

“I see, well thank you for sharing.” Luke replied, “Would you mind if I just listened to your heart and lungs? I’ll check out your arm in just a moment.” Cole nodded and Luke started his exam.

“Oh sick dude. I’ve always thought those steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies were pretty sick.”

“Stethoscope.” Luke said bluntly, leaning in to listen, “And I need you to be quiet during this part of the...”

BURRRRPPPPPP

Luke recoiled as the most foul smelling burp blasted him in the face. It smelled of cheap beer and chicken wings. He immediately took a step back and did his best to hold back a gag. Cole blushed and chuckled awkwardly.

“Sorry bro, maybe you should check out my stomach.” He chuckled.

Luke forced a grin, all while mentally gagging. Maybe Cole was right about that. Whatever had crawled into Cole’s stomach and died definitely needed more help.

______________________

Luke sat at his desk after finishing his exam with Cole. Luckily there hadn’t been any other surprise burps. The young doctor continued typing away, trying to get as much paperwork done before the next inevitable wave of new patients. He hoped they weren’t like Cole. Sure, there was nothing outright wrong with the guy. But he reminded Luke of all the stereotypical meatheads he encountered growing up. Words like brash, loud, stupid, sexy... Sexy?

‘Where did that come from?’ Luke thought as he massaged his temples, ‘Must be from lack of sleep. Yeah, totally.’ He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

“Dr. Hoffer.” Luke turned towards the nurse that called his name, “Your patient in room 15 wanted to talk.” She raised an eyebrow and Luke looked at her quizzically, “Um, Dr. Hoffer, uhhh.” It looked like she was choosing her words carefully, “Have you been using a new deodorant?”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “Uh no, why?” He raised his arm and was taken aback by the massive pit stain. But worse yet, the smell that followed caused him to gag, “Oh god, I must’ve forgot tonight.” He blushed, “Thanks, I’ll grab a new top and I should have some extra deodorant in my locker.” She nodded and Luke groaned as she left, “How fucking embarrassing.” He mumbled.

______________________

“Yo doc, what’s good?” Cole grinned when Luke entered his room.

“I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah bro.” He chuckled dumbly, “I uh forgot tbh.” Luke did his best to hide his annoyance, “But uh, like do you have anything that can help me with my gains?”

“Your gains?” Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “No, nothing in particular. Just keep going to the gym.”

“Fuck I love the gym.” Cole remarked, “Yo doc, did you hit the gym or somethin’ after we talked. You’re lookin’ swole bro.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he hit the gym once in a while. Mostly cardio and occasional light weights. But he wasn’t someone you’d describe as swole. But when he looked down at himself, he couldn’t help but notice that his arms were just a tad tighter at the sleeves. And in general, the scrub top seemed to be a tighter fit, especially around his chest.

‘Must’ve grabbed a small or something.’ He thought and turned back to Cole, “I had to change my scrub top. Totally forgot to wear deodorant tonight, bro.” Cole grinned but Luke blushed. First, why did he tell Cole he forgot deodorant? And second, why did he just call his patient bro?

“Yo, you and me both, man.” Cole chuckled and took a whiff of his pit, “Smells ripe tonight. Nothin’ wrong with letting your natural scent come through.” He raised his hand to give Luke a fist bump.

“No thank you, I uh need to go see another patient.” Luke said, quickly rushing out of Cole’s room.

______________________

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Luke turned to face his newest patient- an older woman with stomach pain.

“Uh yeah, sorry.” He said, scratching his firm chest absentmindedly.

“I don’t think you were.” She replied. Luke internally groaned. Just another entitled boomer, “It looks like you’re more interested in that stupid game.” She gestured to the TV.  

“Stupid game?” Luke chuckled. Baseball was far from stupid, although Luke couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so interested in it, “Well yeah, tonight’s the big game. Like, if they win tonight, they’ll go to the playoffs.”

The woman’s face flushed red with anger, “Get out, I want to see another doctor.”  

Luke shrugged, “Fine by me.” He barely noticed the hairs now poking out from his collar.

But when he left the room, something dawned on him. Did a patient just fire him? He narrowed his eyes, confused at what just happened. He was always commended on his professional demeanor and good patient relationships. This wasn’t like him. He turned around and entered the room.

“Hi ma’am, I’m sorry for my behavior. Is it okay if we restart?” He asked politely.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” The woman huffed.

And so Luke was able to breathe a sigh of relief. And despite his urge to turn and watch the big game, he did his best to do a thorough exam.

______________________

Sitting at his desk, Luke pulled up the baseball game on his computer. He could watch and write notes at the same time. But the real distraction was his increasingly more uncomfortable scrub top. The sleeves were definitely way too tight on his arms and for a fleeting moment he thought that it would be best to go shirtless. But he shook the thought out of his mind and started typing.

“Patient presented with abdominal pain likely secondary to cholelith... chole...” He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of the correct medical term. He should know this- it was basic, “Likely secondary to big stones.” He wrote confidently. He scratched his chin and was met with something that he knew couldn’t be right. He quickly pulled out his phone and looked at himself in the camera, “Since when did I grow a beard?” He whispered, “I swear... I mean I had some fuzz but it never grows this quick.” But before he could think more on it, another page came through, “Of course...” He whispered.

______________________

“Dude! Where’ve you been?” Cole asked as Luke entered his room, “Doc, you don’t look so good.”  

It was true. Luke looked and felt nauseous. The walk over was weird. He felt heavier somehow and unfamiliar in his own body. Each step required more thought as he adjusted to these new sensations.

“It’s nothing, brah.” Luke commented, barely registering what he said, “So uh, like what did ya call me in here for?”

Cole grinned, “Dude! Have you been watching the game?” Luke nodded, his eyes filling with joy.

“Bro! It’s awesome. Did you see that homer?”

“You fuckin’ know it. By the way, wanna come back to my place and watch? A few of the bros are there and we’ve got beer. And Andy’s bringing his sis. The one with the fat tits.”

Luke chuckled, his voice deepening as he did, “Dude that sounds sick, and like beer is awesome but I’m more into dudes.” Cole’s eyes widened.

“Wait really bro?” He said and Luke feared he was about to be judged, “Same, man! Huhuhuh I just mentioned Andy’s sister ‘cause I assumed you’d be into that.”

“Nah bro, I’d much rather suck you off.” Luke’s eyes widened this time as the words left his mouth. And while Cole’s smile widened, Luke was hit by a bombardment of thoughts telling him this was wrong, “Shit, I shouldn’t have...”

“I won’t tell anyone dude.” Cole remarked, “Besides, I could go for quickie right about now.”

“No, this isn’t right.” Luke insisted, “I uh... I need to go finish some notes.” He quickly left the room, not noticing that his scrub top was now straining against his growing musculature-threatening to rip at any moment.

______________________

Luke was growing more frustrated by the second. He tried to sit down to work on his notes, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember basic medical terminology. Nor could he remember the correct format of a medical note. He instead opted to stare blankly at the baseball game.

“Sir, you shouldn’t be back here.” Luke looked up to see his nurse standing over him, “It’s for employees only.”

“Huhuhuh very funny, brah.” Luke replied with a grin, “But like, I’m the doc around here.” He went to fish out his ID but was struggling to find it, “Uhhh like... just give me a second here...”

She raised an eyebrow, “Look sir, I’ll have to call...”

RIPPPPPPPPPPP

The nurse blushed as Luke’s scrub top finally tore and fell to the ground, revealing his chiseled pecs and tight abdominal muscles. Luke for his part, didn’t really seem to care as he continued to search for his ID. He looked up at her and chuckled.

“Must’ve lost it, bro.” Luke remarked, scratching the back of his head. His exposed pit filled the room with his masculine musk, “Uh like...”

“Sir, I’m going to have to call security if you don’t leave immediately.” The nurse said firmly, doing her best to not stare at the hunk in front of her.

“But like, I’m the doc.” Luke insisted, growing somewhat frustrated, “Like look.” He gestured to his stethoscope, “Doctors always have steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies.”

“Stethoscopes.” The nurse replied, raising an eyebrow, “And I’m pretty sure a doctor would know what they were called.”

“Huhuhuh I guess you’re right about that, brah.” Luke chuckled dumbly, “Well like, fine... I’d rather hang out with my bros anyway.”

Luke stood up. If they didn’t want him here, he’d go somewhere that people would. He walked with a confident swagger to room 15.

______________________

“Bro! Looking swole! Where’d your top go?” Cole asked as Luke entered the room.

“Dude, my muscles can’t be contained.” Luke chuckled dumbly, flexing his biceps, “But like, let’s get out of here, brah. Everyone here’s an asshole.”

“Bro, I hear ya.” Cole remarked, “Why’d ya think I took a break from this place?”

Luke’s slow brain was confused, “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Dude! You don’t recognize me? Cole Reedy? Dr. Reedy? Well not really anymore I guess.” His dumb laughter filled the air. Luke just chuckled along with him, “So, you ready to get the fuck outta here?”

Luke nodded enthusiastically, “I heard there’re some bros watchin’ the big game. And beer.”

“Yeah man! And I also heard there’s a guy lookin’ to suck some dick.” Cole grinned. A lightbulb went off in Luke’s smaller brain and he grinned.

“You know what they say, brah. A blowjob a day keeps the doctor away.” Luke chuckled at his own joke and the two bros fist bumped.

Luke couldn’t fully process what happened to him that night. Or how he wound up sucking Cole’s dick in the back of his truck. Or how he eventually got dared to climb a stupid tree while drunk. Or how he now found himself in the emergency room, this time as a patient. But what he did know, as he burped in the face of the doc taking care of him, was that he couldn’t wait for their newest bro to join their ranks.

[georgewolf14]

Welcome to the Crew

“Sir, sir!” Sebastian jumped as a man threw an arm over his shoulders, “Say hi to our viewers!” The man held out his phone, capturing Sebastian’s shocked face, “Tell us your name, sir! And what brings you out here on this fine afternoon?”

“Uh, I uh...” Sebastian replied, “Hey sorry, I don’t...”

“Just your name and what brings you out here.” The man encouraged.

“Uh Sebastian.” He said, “And, I was on a jog before my next class...”

“Give it up for Sebastian!” The man cheered, the grin never leaving his face, “I’m here with Gridiron Brew! And we have some questions for youuuu!” He continued.

Sebastian internally groaned. Of course. Some stupid influencer being asked to do live interviews for views on social media. In fact, his feed was constantly filled with new ads for Gridiron Brew. If it wasn’t so annoying, Sebastian would be impressed by their intense marketing campaign.

“I don’t think I have time.” Sebastian said politely, “I’m already kinda behind and I need to...”

“Nonsense!” The man chuckled, “Our viewers are dying to know.” His tone became serious,  “Sebastian, are you part of the Gridiron brew crew?”

“Uh, not really.” Sebastian replied awkwardly, “Not really into drinking. Gotta stay fit.”

“And fit you certainly are! Give it up for Sebastian’s abs!” He cheered, running a hand across the young man’s tight abdominals. Sebastian shuddered at the touch, “But on hot days like today, why don’t you quench your thirst with a cold one.” It was like a beer can materialized out of thin air, and the man forced it into Sebastian’s hand, “A first reaction! A live reaction! We certainly hit the jackpot!” The man continued.

Sebastian looked down at the can in his hand. It was brown- the color of a football. Some guy in old football gear was on the front. But instead of holding a football, there was a can of Gridiron brew in his hands. Sebastian looked up at the man, a little unnerved by the grin on his face, and then back down at the can.

“Go on Sebastian! Chug, chug, chug!” The man laughed, “Come on! Give him some support from back home!” He called out to his audience.

Sebastian looked down at the can and against his better judgement, cracked it open. The smell wasn’t anything special. Just like all the other cheap beers he’d come across. Easier to get this over with. And under the watchful and encouraging eye of this man, he took a sip.

“And there we have it!” The man cheered, “So Sebastian, we’re dying to know. What do you think?”

“Well it’s uh...” Really not that impressive was what he wanted to say. But instead he felt his stomach rumble, “It’s uh.... BURRRPPPPPPPPPP.” Sebastian covered his mouth.

“And there we have it folks!” The man laughed.

But Sebastian wasn’t laughing. No... His stomach felt like it was on fire. His abdomen cramping violently. The young man gripped his abs and winced at how tender they felt. Sweat was starting to coat his body and he felt woozy.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Sebastian groaned. But the man was ignoring him now. Instead spitting out some random facts and history about the brew.

But Sebastian was in agony. He was sweating profusely, falling to his knees as his abdomen lurched. He let out another belch, and yelped. Something wasn’t right. The usual firm tightness of his abdominal muscles was softening. The young man cried out as he watched his abs disappear under a thin layer of fat. Followed by another. And another. His hands gripped his new abdominal fat- a beer gut that would put any frat boy to shame. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized he could grab two large handfuls of his new unwanted gut. But it wasn’t just his abdomen. His lean pecs jutted out with both fat and muscle, sagging slightly as they sat above his new beer gut.

“Gridiron brew is for that ex-jock in you!” The man celebrated, seemingly unbothered by the struggle of the young man behind him.

Sebastian yelped again as his arms and legs followed the way of his abs and pecs. Clearly muscular, but lacking definition due to the rapidly accumulating adipose tissue. In the midst of his agony, Sebastian looked up desperately at the man, hoping for some relief.

“Pl-pleeeeasseeee broooooo.” He begged, his voice cracking and becoming deeper.

He yelped as he felt a warmth fill his balls and spread throughout the rest of his body. This surge of testosterone stimulated hair follicles- both old and new- to help carpet the young man in a blanket of musky body hair. Sebastian watched in horror as his pubes poked out from his running shorts, before a dense treasure trail rapidly climbed his pudgy beer gut. As it did, hairs along his stomach grew out. And when it reached his chest- the hairs exploded across it. He ran a hand across his hairy chest, a mixture of disgust and longing for his clean-shaven form, as well as a strange unwanted pride for his newfound manliness.

“You may not be able to relive the glory days,” The man continued as he spoke to his audience, “But with Gridiron Brew, you wouldn’t even want to!”

Sebastian moaned as his face filled with some extra fat, before his chin and cheeks were covered up by a dark beard. When the dark follicles reached his wavy blond locks, they quickly transitioned to take on the same dark hue as his body hair and beard. And moreover, his hair shortened as he aged. Years of his life removed in just an instant until he was in his late 20s. Sebastian sat stunned as the pain and discomfort started to subside. He looked up at the man, who had finally turned and looked down at him.

“Seb here used to be a linebacker in college!” The man announced, “But now he gets his rush from the cool, refreshing taste of Gridiron Brew!”

But Sebastian was still in college, right? He never played football. Well, maybe he had a few lessons, right? Well not a few- his dad was really into it. They watched games growing up, throwing the ol’ pigskin in the backyard. Years went by practicing with his bros and making varsity. Fucking got into college on a scholarship. But that was forever ago, right? He was... he was... Seb smirked and hoisted himself up, grabbing another can of Gridiron Brew from the man. A smirk formed on his face and he slapped his beer gut, which jiggled for the world to see.

“Fuck yeah, bros!” Seb celebrated, chugging the can of beer, “This shit will get you where you need to be.” He grinned, “I’ll be at the stadium tomorrow celebrating, I expect to see my Gridiron brew crew there!” The man grinned and watched as Seb walked off, unaware of the life stolen from him. Doomed to live his life as a forever-frat bro, reliving his glory days on the sidelines, while drinking his new favorite brew.

“Well there we have it folks!” The man grinned, turning back to his phone, “Get yours in stores while supplies last! And welcome to the Gridiron brew crew!”

[georgewolf14]

Out To Pasteurize

Calvin learns the side effects of Bro-science first hand after accidentally drinking some Raw Milk.

Read some real mind numbing takes about drinking unpasteurized milk and here we are! Hope you enjoy, in other news I’m going to throw up the post announcing the Viral Transformation participants soon! -Occam

Having been priced out by rising rent at his old place Calvin was in quite the pickle. Fate smiles upon him however as his sister’s ex, Derrick, is in sudden need of a new roommate. They run in quite different circles, Calvin the sort to stay in and read while Derrick probably has more hours at the gym than some people spend awake. Though as he’s lacking any other options Calvin is more than happy to move in with the jock. Time spent working out is time out of the apartment and Calvin has always enjoyed as much personal space as he could get.

As hoped, the living situation is not too bad at all. Derrick stays out of Calvin’s hair and he has more than enough time and space to work from home. There are few better relationships between two diametrically opposed people than one with only incidental interaction. Their lives together are not to continue without a hitch however as one unfortunate morning Calvin runs out of coffee creamer and rather than just drinking it black he decides to sneak some of Derrick’s unlabelled milk.

He shrugs as he’s sure his roommate wouldn’t mind, they’re quite amiable and Derrick’s always offering him protein powder and trying to get him into the gym, spotting him some milk is surely equivalent. Hearing his roommate’s bedroom door open he quickly pours a bit more than he meant to into his cup in a rush to get the bottle back into the fridge surreptitiously. Sure, Derrick wouldn’t mind but Calvin would prefer to not have any interaction on the matter if possible. He stirs in the milk and grimaces as it brightens his coffee to a far lighter shade than he typically prefers.

Derrick wanders into the living room, still halfway pulling up his shorts before stretching as he prepares for his favorite only pastime. Calvin smirks behind his mug at pulling off the pettiest larceny one can imagine before he takes a large gulp of his coffee. As soon as it hits his tongue Calvin is struck with a taste incredibly vile, and yet one that demands he drink more. As such he is torn between spitting up and forcing it down. In the end he’s just able to swallow it before the aftertaste of milk sour and spoiled spreads through his mouth. Regretting his decision he begins gagging. Seeing this Derrick quickly runs over shouting in concern.

“Yo bro! You good!? Do you, uhh, should I call for help!?” He stands behind and puts his massive arms around Calvin’s torso, preparing to do whatever he thinks the heimlich maneuver is. Feeling the warm body behind him as steam rises off his smooth, slowly swirling, mug of coffee Calvin pauses as he realizes in the commotion the taste is gone from his mouth. He feels the hot coffee settle in his stomach and at just that moment he is overwhelmed with a creamy sweetness unimaginable. Inches away from breaking one of the smaller man’s ribs Derrick feels his body stop struggling and go limp with a small groan, “Uhhh ye- yeah? I’m okay. I’m good.” His hands go to his head as he feels the tinges of a headache begin to come on, involuntarily he licks his lips and his eyes dart back to the mug.

Derrick backs away and returns to the other side of their kitchen island, his eyes still painted with concern and adrenaline making his hands slightly shaky, “Promise you’re good bro?” Calvin nods as he far too quickly convinces himself that that rotten taste must have been in his head. He just wasn’t expecting the milk to make his coffee taste so good, yeah. That’s it. He takes a second sip and lets it sit in his mouth, as he tries to make out the taste. It almost seems thicker than heavy cream he thinks, coating his teeth in a thin film as he swishes it around before swallowing. Calvin pauses and bites his lip before deciding to just level and ask what kind of milk it is as the desire to use it again later begins to stew. “Hey I, uh, hope you don’t mind Derrick but I used your milk for creamer.” 

Concern immediately vacates his roommate’s eyes as they grow wide in shock, he opens his mouth to respond but clearly the slow-turning gears in his head can’t quite decide what to say. Not even an Uhh spills out as he stands there. Seeing this Calvin speaks up to try and keep it light, “sorry if that was an overstep, um, dude. Though it’s some of the best I’ve ever had! If you wouldn’t mind telling me what kind it is I’d love to get some myself! Is it like heavy cream? No way it’s a non-dairy!” Calvin takes another sip and lets it again dance on his tongue, he can barely taste the coffee underneath as the milk’s creamy taste grows more prominent by the second.

There is another pause. Derrick’s eyes follow the cup and he grimaces before swallowing hard and bucking up. “For sure for sure lil’ bro. Uhhh, promise you won’t be mad though.” Calvin tilts his head and Derrick responds before he has a chance to swallow and respond, “It’s from my guy at the gym. It’s um, raw milk.” Calvin’s brow furrows quicker than a heartbeat as he hears this. His mind races with memories of the brain-rotted arguments he’s read from the most barbarous gym bros about drinking the bacteria ridden garbage, for quite literally no good reason. After that, memories flash of health reports that followed soon after, detailing the bird flu outbreaks in the community. Despite this, and despite himself, he doesn’t immediately spit take. Try as he might his lips open slower than his throat as he swallows yet another mouthful of what he now knows to be unpasteurized poison.

“What the fuck?” He says quietly, staring daggers into his roommate who is shaking his hands and head quickly. “Nonono bro bro just chill! My trainer fuckin’ swears by this stuff and he’s completely fine! If you saw the results you’d be- Uh? Dude?” Derrick pauses as he sees Calvin start to raise the cup to his lips again, he had just intended to inspect it bit. Give it a sniff or something, but it’s like his body’s on auto pilot. His hand tilts the mug and his mouth falls ajar. His throat similarly opens unnaturally as the whole of his cup, only just cool enough to drink, pours straight down his throat. His eyes widen in fear as the desire to drink overpowers every rational thought crying out for him to stop immediately. 

Slamming the mug down after essentially shotgunning his surely pathogen filled cup of joe, Calvin finds himself frozen in place. Clutching his mouth he’s lost in thought as everything in him begins to accelerate. Chugging his coffee seems to have filled him with even more energy than usual as his mind races even faster than his accelerating heartbeat. He struggles to focus on any meaningful course of action, and couldn’t possibly come to the idea to induce vomiting to eliminate the source of whatever this hysteria is. Instead, he’s struck with a deep rooted need to move, to sweat, to work hard. He is immediately twitchy as every individual muscle in his body has an urge to stretch, to burn, to grow.

This desperate need is clear on his face and when he looks up to see his hitherto antsy roommate Derrick, he simply smiles wide, wordlessly understanding what is about to happen. Calvin can’t hear whatever he says over the buzzing in his head, but as Derrick brings out his smallest gym clothes he’s able to put two and two together. Filled with impulse alien and energy unbecoming, still clearly driven by whatever strange autopilot that brought the raw milked coffee to his lips, Calvin finds himself getting ready for a horrible gym session with his roommate.

Concern at just how bizarre this situation is falls by the wayside as he feels the soothing burn of stretching. Thoughts and worries of being sick vacate immediately as he instead focuses on whatever’s going on in his body. Mumbling to himself about needing to stretch more, he allays the discomfort in his stomach as he sees just how excited Derrick is about finally getting him to go to the gym together. “Bro let’s go! Your first pump is gonna be killer! Especially after having some of my trainer’s special stuff!” He adds on, slamming his massive hand into the back of Calvin’s shoulder with enough force that should send the typically meek man sprawling.

Instead Calvin simply stumbles forward a single step, grunting as he rolls his shoulder and flexes his arm. The burn from the smack swiftly transitions to the burning soreness of exercise, before even lifting a weight lactic acid sears through his arm and veins bulge down his bicep. Calvin turns with a cocky smirk, arm raised in a bicep flex and Derrick stands beside himself with excitement, he shakes Calvin by his shoulders, “Brooo! Let’s run! We gotta make the most of your first dose!” While his body races with energy his mind slows and his eyes glaze over, not quite able to understand whatever Derrick’s implying. At any rate the two men race out the door. Calvin trails quite far behind at the start but with each surging step forward he feels himself picking up speed as his legs begin to bulge larger.

Once inside Derrick immediately sends the newbie through the wringer. Mind clouded, he’s putty in the expert’s hands as he’s ushered into machines and through techniques he should be struggling to complete. Instead every lift, every push, every pump, sends pleasure immeasurable through him. His body burns. His body grows. Gritting his teeth as his biceps fill the sleeves of his shirt and for the first time muscle begins to amass on his flat chest. Derrick’s mouth may as well be watering as he sees Calvin’s insane gains. His own pulse accelerates as he pushes Calvin well past what his breaking point should be.

“Fuck bro, you look fucking killer!? No way this is your first time at the gym.” Derrick says through a smirk as he positions Calvin at a mirror so they can take some thirst traps. Awkwardly posing as he begins to feel a comedown from both his workout and whatever concoction he unfortunately enjoyed, Calvin feels some sort of sense begin to return to his mind. Seeing himself shirtless in public he feels his lungs take brief panting breaths as he begins to hyperventilate. Inspecting his reflection he’s thrown off course, he does look killer. That’s impossible!? That’s not how working out works right? He leans in close to see pecs have somehow bulged onto his chest. Traps above and arms that could lift more weight than he could previously dream at their side. He balks as he sees his body has somehow become something beyond admirable.

He typically prides himself on his rationality, but as he sees these impossible changes he knows there can only be one cause. He gulps as he looks at his first workout partner wandering off into the gym, feeling an emptiness in his stomach that there is now a desperate need to resolve. He needs more. Calvin’s eyes continue tracing every new powerful curve of his body while he waits for his roommate to return. Somehow two steps ahead of the usually astute Calvin, Derrick returns hiding something behind his back, “Guess what I got bro!” Calvin’s breath catches in his chest as he stares at his roommate with hunger newfound.

Derrick tosses him a bottle with a smug smirk at having totally convinced the man on raw milk. Catching it, Calvin doesn’t hear the recommendations offered or see the look of shock on the jock’s face as he opts to down a good chunk of the quart then and there. “Woah bro?” Wiping milk off his face with a sweaty arm he releases a burp louder and deeper than he would ever have allowed himself to do this morning. Derrick pats him on the back once more with a laugh. Excited at having another bro to workout with, he doesn’t spend a second questioning the changes in his roommate as his stomach bloats and his pecs almost seem to grow weightier immediately. 

Returning to their apartment Derrick talks Calvin’s ear off about macros and strategies that Calvin agrees to without even half-listening. Feeling the not quite cold jug of milk in his hand he knows he has everything he needs already. While it filled him with energy inhuman this morning, drinking it after a workout has unearthed new sensations. Under his new bloated abs he feels his cock begin to stir in his pants, only now realizing that he’s wearing borrowed compression shorts he notices that he is already chubbed up. Feeling his dick stretch against the nylon fabric he bites his lip as his balls pulse beneath it. Seeing him adjust his gait Derrick fully looks down to see the man’s package suddenly bulging through his shorts.

He laughs loudly as he addresses the not-quite elephant in the room. Eyes glazed over even more now that his growing balls have arrived on the scene, he doesn’t quite hear Derrick explain the broscience behind NoFap. Converted already on drinking raw milk he continues nodding along as his balls do their best to demand his attention and immediate release. 

Crossing the threshold into their apartment Calvin feels himself tempted to already throw in the towel and enjoy the fruits of his new labor. He’s heard that masturbating after working out is a heady delight, or perhaps it was the other way around. He puts his head in his hands, groaning as there’s a drive in him to stay strong. Sitting on his bed he realizes a lifeline in self-control that sleep presents and simply lies back. Whatever happens while he’s unconscious is out of his hands he thinks with a smirk as sleep finds him quicker than it has in years.

His new changes continue their advance while he rests in dreamless sleep. Calvin squirms as his new chest immediately begins to strain the tank he threw on before hopping into bed. His pecs grow at a rate quicker than anywhere else on his body, nipples growing from the pinpricks they’ve always been into half-dollars that will rarely be hidden behind a single layer of fabric. 

Well, his pillowy pecs aren’t outpacing every part of his body. Hidden in musky compression shorts he didn’t have a chance to change out of, his balls swell to produce hormones for a man twice his size. Hair prickles up from his pubes, creating a dusty treasure trail, and out from his pits, to one day connect with a forest on his chest, as testosterone production soars higher than that of lumberjacks and the most macho military men. Morning wood pushes against his shorts and he moans and rolls over onto his stomach and clenches at the sheets.

His unconscious form moves with a ferality as he humps his bed with power that continues to grow greater by the second. In his own bedroom reading workout guides, Derrick looks to the wall in shock as he hears his roommate’s bed frame creak. Feeling his own package cry for attention he decides he’s earned a break as he treats himself to his own petit mort, imagining his twink of a roommate bulking up over time, he begins jacking off to his fantasies. Totally unaware as the man’s body in reality is already exceeding his dreamed expectations. 

As Calvin finds release, moaning loud enough for Derrick to hear his voice deepening, stubble begins to stain his face. Likely to never leave for long at all. His cock had jumped out of his waist band during his mattress humping session, leaving cum stains smattered across his new treasure trail. After this release his balls return to overdrive and begin to churn once more, filling him with desire and drive that will get him through his next workout, milk or no milk. Though given his apparent addiction to the stuff it is clear which way he would prefer.

Calvin isn’t quite sure what time he went to bed or what time it is now that he’s woken up. His morning routine of drinking coffee and getting straight to work abdicates to be replaced by his chugging whatever of Derrick’s miracle milk he can find. Seeing it still dark outside he isn’t deterred as he downs a glass of raw milk before pouring a thermos of the ambrosia for the road. Raring to go, he grabs his roommate’s workout bag and beats feet to get another steamy session in at the gym. 

Something within Calvin tries to speak up in existential fear of what has happened to him, what he is becoming. Slowing his jog he is struck with a migraine. Grunting as he picks back up speed, he feels his balls pulse and his bloated torso flex as every step towards the gym brings him closer to pleasure and fulfillment he’s never neared knowing before now. The voice in the back of his mind grows quieter and rapidly feels itself losing ground, after all hasn’t he always wanted to be this kind of guy? Who wouldn’t. His pecs bounce with every step, his new larger nipples scratching against his tight shirt as his chest aches to grow larger. 

He sneers at the early morning receptionist as she tries to check him in and she rolls her eyes, muttering something about asshole bros before returning to her cellphone. Hearing that as he continues striding forward, massive chest raised, the final meek part of him remaining grasps at its last strands. He’s not a bro. He's just a normal guy. So what he’s started to hit the gym, it’s not like he’s some dumb oaf, right? He struggles to hold this should be truth as he sees a shirt he should be drowning in hang off his chest, exposing his lowest row of abs and a treasure trail he’s never come close to having before. He avoids looking at his defined jaw underneath a beard that should have taken him years to grow. All the while he desperately fights against the mind-numbing urges issuing forth from his growing cock and bulging balls.

Making it to the locker room he immediately loses his shirt and looks at his reflection in full. Seeing his milk-bloated stomach he flexes his muscles and just as soon pauses thinking about who he is, who he is supposed to be to instead watch as every part of him bulges larger. Hungrily staring at himself his thoughts slow to a crawl, befores stopping altogether as he methodically stretches and flaunts every muscle group in turn. He hasn’t even touched a weight this morning, and yet at every movement his body seems to expand and bulge larger. Biceps peaking higher with every flex, thighs strain his pants and his calves burst larger with every raise and stretch. He licks his lips as he sees individual strands of muscle on his pecs cramp and grow larger, doing so he tastes the nectar that delivered him this deific form. 

The voice of his past self goes completely mute as his mind slows to such a crawl he’ll be lucky to ever perform actions with more than three steps again. The idea of excess certainly doesn’t cross his mind as he tears into Derrick’s gym bag looking for the packed flask of his potation. Can’t have too much of a good thing, he thinks without thinking as he immediately brings the flask to his mouth and chokes down as much as he can stand. Raw milk trickles down his face as he truly becomes the type of man he has always loathed. Unconcerned with hygiene or social moors, unwashed and apathetic to anyone around him. Why should they matter anyway he thinks as his pecs bulge larger as milk trails a path in between thickening hairs.

His stomach bulges larger as he consumes more milk than anyone should have in a week. He groans as his throat bulges with the haste at which he’s downing his miracle elixir. Thankfully he’s already torn off his shirt to ogle himself or it would have burst clean off as his stomach expands. His heavy pecs bloat even larger as they rest on his new gut. Clouded spit drips down his chin as he sits down and blankly stares ahead, saliva mixing with sweat that is increasingly covering his body from the exertion of putting on mass. The locker room bench creaks underneath him as weight it should take a lifetime to produce just pours onto his body as the last dregs of his mind, his true self, slip away. 

His swollen stomach swiftly bursts the waist of his pants as fat and muscle struggle for real estate on his new form. Veins bulge down his meaty arms as his biceps rival the size of his head, now supported on a neck the size of a tree trunk, framed by weighty traps on either side. He guffaws as he sees his cock fully exposed in the locker room and goes to cover it with one of his massive mitts, struggling to do so just as any pair of pants would from now on. There's the sound of fabric exploding and he looks down to see his feet already more than eclipsing the now torn soles of his tennis shoes. He scratches his thickening beard as he tries to figure out what to do. Slow as he may be he’s pretty sure the gym will kick him out if he wanders around the gym nude.

Digging through the pile of Derrick’s clothes he realizes all the clothes within were dirty laundry. Shrugging as that’s no longer a concern for him he finds a pair of sweat-stained shorts and throws them on, smirking at the feeling of his cock freeballing in the tight cotton shorts. No chance he’ll find a shirt large enough to cover his godly torso he doesn't even try. Why would he want to cover his pride and joy anyway. Scratching at his chest as the hair across his torso thickens into a pelt he smirks before switching to fondle his package and flex at his own reflection. 

Calvin feels pre drip down his leg as he immediately grows hard and swears he can see himself pumping larger with every heartbeat. He isn’t sure how long he stands there getting off to his own power before his roommate arrives to the locker room shouting, “Brooo! I was wondering where my gym bag went huhuh!” He runs over and gives his bro a bear hug  before trying to lift him, neck bulging as he fails to get the now behemoth even an inch off the ground. Calvin laughs loud enough for the eyes-rolling receptionist to hear as he moves to easily heave his now less massive roommate in the air. 

Derrick blushes airborne before smirking and playfully squeezing the titan as hard as he can, similarly apathetic to the filth covering his roommate’s hairy body. After the man holding him high stops laughing Derrick speaks up, “See I told you that milk was the stuff huhuh!” Moments pass while Calvin stands with mouth ajar, as he will for a few seconds anytime his slowchugging mind deigns to try and speak. His voice is a rumble as the dull words fall from his slack-jawed mouth, “Uhhhh whatever bro. I’ve uhhh, always been about drinking that shit.” Punctuating it with a rather bullish nose exhalation as he sets the man down and pouts.

His roommate rolls his eyes and ruffles his short sweaty hair as he knows when to let the big guy win an argument. “Sure sure bro. You wanna head in there and get even fuckin’ bigger?” Derrick sees Cal’s cock bob in his shorts like a dog’s wagging tail at the idea of a workout. He grunts in the affirmative and Derrick pats him on the back to usher him forward. The two men then set off to the races, Calvin now taking point. Never to be the bright one again, nothing remains in his mind to question why he knows all he does about working out. 

Rarely would any adrift shred of his past self stumble through the dense thick fog of his mind. If they ever do they’ll find themselves part of the new Cal soon enough anyway. It’s of no matter who he was before he was king of this gym. He doesn’t even need bro science anymore as he continues to grow larger au naturale. The two men become icons at their gym, every day showing the ropes to men who dream to be a fraction of what they already are, and every night returning back to their apartment for some steamy well-earned cardio.

[georgewolf14]

Yummy