#mental change

[immortalmrwavell]

Wavell’s Vacation 3

(Original story posted August 31st 2022) This story has received mild edits and corrections

Read the First Part and the Second Part here!

Week 3

Messing around as Jake for the last week was some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time. It was a shame to have to leave him in all honesty. I knew I wanted to end my vacation with the best experience of them all but my last body definitely set a high bar. Due to this I ended up searching all day long until I finally found a man suitable enough to be my final host.

It was pure luck that I happened to stumble across him when I did. I had simply been wandering the cities, streets and towns of various places. I hadn’t been able to find a man that clicked with me until I happened to wander into a certain house. Phasing through the walls, completely invisible, until I found a bedroom with a young couple laid fast asleep. It was a man and a woman though naturally my attention was only focused on the man.

He was large. Huge even! And so much of it was simply pure muscle! A bodybuilder for sure. But I needed more than just an incredible body. It was only after seeing his face that I made my decision. Turns out he wasn’t just some random hunk. Rather he was also none other than Eric Janicki! A man with a pretty big name in the fitness community online. He wasn’t someone that’d come to mind beforehand but seeing him now I just knew I had to have that body.

I could’ve possessed him right then and there but I decided to watch and wait for a while. Silently observing that muscle bound hunk of a man until he finally awoke and pulled himself out of bed. I watched him go through his morning routine starting not long after 6:00 AM, getting up and ready for the day. I watched him start with some morning cardio before grabbing breakfast. Later having a few video meetings with his clients before later brainstorming some content to post on his socials and keep his followers growing. All up until about 10:00 AM when he made his way towards the steam shower in his bedroom en-suite.

Initially I was going to follow him right away until I realised that something needed to be prepared before I took him. With a flick of my wrist I was able to summon up two potions from my storage room back home. Had to do it now since using my magic inside a regular human vessel could prove problematic hence why I hadn’t done it while inside Jake and Tim. But with that out the way, I was free to phase through the cloudy glass door and into Eric’s home steam room.

A malicious grin spread across my face as I was greeted with a sight that would make most gay men cream their pants. There I saw Eric’s giant naked body basking in the steam, sweating as his sizable cock and balls swung freely. I took a moment to float around his body and I couldn’t help but be astonished at how massive he looked from every angle. Tim Tebow was one thing but Eric was on a whole other level. And he was in bulking season! To say he was thick as fuck would be an understatement.

Of course I was enamoured with every inch of his body but I just couldn’t keep my eyes off that giant muscle ass. Before long I found myself lowering down until I was eye level with it, watching as it jiggled whenever Eric changed his stance. I brought my face closer and closer to it, almost as if I were hypnotised, until finally…

“AUUGHH! What the… FUUUU-” Eric yelped out as I suddenly pressed my face between his cheeks and into his tight hole. I felt his ass clenching hard as his hands swung towards his backside to find whatever was penetrating him but to no avail. It didn’t take long for me to reach the prostate while I forced his hole to stretch wider. As I continued to press inside I made sure to stimulate it aggressively causing Eric to let out a series of loud thunderous moans. The pain of being stretched was suddenly drowned out by an immense type of pleasure he’d never before felt. Within mere seconds his cock had grown from soft to its full 7 and a half inches, pulsing with excitement and ready to leak pre-cum.

Eric soon found himself leaning onto the wall of the steam room for support as his howls of pain mixed with intense pleasure grew louder. His legs spread apart as he unconsciously arched his back. It seemed even though Eric’s mind and soul didn’t want me inside, his body on the other hand was more than happy to welcome me as its new host. Who would I be to refuse such a generous offer…

After that I began surging into my new body even faster than before. Upon doing so Eric was banging his fists on the wall and stamping a foot on the floor in frustration with still no idea what the hell was happening to him. He let out a final roar as I made one last push, finally allowing the last of my form to slip inside his hole before it clamped shut in relief. With that Eric’s eyes rolled back as I spread myself throughout his whole body immediately, just like with Jake. Pushing my ghostly form into every crevice of Eric’s herculean body until at last his eyes closed… and mine opened.

The first thing I noticed was my new member bucking sporadically with sensitivity. I realised moments later it was due to Eric having blasted his load against the wall after all the prostate stimulation. With a grin I gently got down onto my knees before using Eric’s tongue to lick his thick salty nut off the wall. This man definitely keeps a good diet because it tasted fucking delicious! Only after I’d lapped up every drop did I finally fall onto my sore ass and start groping my new vessel for all its worth. I can only imagine what it would’ve looked like to a third party. A massive hulking man writhing around on the floor of his steam shower, grabbing at his pecs, wobbling his thighs, kissing his biceps like a horny slut.

About 10 minutes later the glass door creaked open as I, Eric Janicki, stepped out. A sly smirk adorned my stolen face as I waltzed over to the mirror to inspect myself. I poked and prodded at my new features. A perfect mix of pretty boy and ruggedly handsome. I styled my hair a little just as he would before stroking my beard. I can always admire a great beard on a man.

But of course the real show was yet to begin. I just couldn’t hold back any longer from just bringing up my arms and flexing them hard in my reflection. “Oh yeah! Fuckin cannons!” I blurted out before patting my right bicep. Once I was done admiring my arms, I couldn't help but turn my attention to the giant shelf of muscle on my chest. The pecs I’d had in Tim’s body had been great but these were more than just pecs, they were FUCKIN MUSCLE TITS! Before I knew they were bouncing away! Left! Right! Left! Right! Fuck it was fun!

But of course I couldn’t ignore my legs. I mean how could I?! Sure having a huge upper body was one thing but legs like these weren’t something you see everyday. My new thighs were absolutely colossal! They forced me to stand with my legs further apart simply due to their sheer enormity. And my new calves were certainly no joke either. They were the size of footballs for fuck sake! Literal footballs. Not to mention the size of my new feet. Everything about this form was just massive.

I probably could’ve stood in front of that mirror for hours just staring at myself. However I was snapped out of my self absorbed grope-fest when I heard the sound of the front door shutting and a voice calling out for me. Eric’s girlfriend, who’s name was Alina according to my new memories, had just returned from her morning run. After hearing her voice I glanced at the two potion vials I’d summoned. They sat on the counter beside the sink, the liquid within them gleaming with magic. One of them glowed with a dark green hue while the other one shimmered in a bright blue. I swiped them both up before calling out to her that I’d be down in a minute.

Next thing I know I’m doing another closet raid as I’m searching for some of Eric’s clothes to throw on. You wouldn’t believe the sheer amount of gym clothes this man owned. I mean it made sense but still. In the end I slipped on a pair of violet shorts and a black tank top as he normally would, both huge in size yet fit my body snuggly. The shorts hugged my thighs and ass tightly while the tank top struggled to cover my thick pecs.

I made my way downstairs where Alina greeted me, asking if I was ready to head to the gym in a bit. “Absolutely!” I replied with Eric’s natural charisma before offering if she wanted to have some of the smoothie I was gonna make first. I had to hide a devious smirk as she accepted. It didn’t take long for me to whip up a healthy smoothie just as Eric would before dividing it between two glasses. Then, when Alina wasn’t looking, I pulled out the blue potion vial before pouring it into her glass. I watched with a mischievous glint in my eye as the sparkling blue liquid swirled into the healthy beverage.

The two of us gave a cheers, clinking our drinks together before downing them. I finished just quick enough to watch the last of it slide down her throat. I couldn’t help but get excited in anticipation for what was to come.

Alina set down her glass and looked up at me with a scrunched up expression. “Did… did you put something different in this?” She asked while flicking her tongue.

“Oh it’s just a little something to help bring out a… how shall I say… better version of yourself I suppose.” I managed to keep up Eric’s innocent charm at the moment.

My cryptic wording was lost on her however as Alina began to feel a bubbling sensation growing deep inside. Her body began to heat up rapidly as the magical energy began to flood through her very being. The athletic young woman doubled over in a mix of pain and discomfort as suddenly her body started to change dramatically.

Her breasts were the first to go, deflating until her chest was flat. Her nipples followed suit, becoming far less pronounced under her loosened sports bra. From there her body began to negate its own feminine features as her waist grew wider and her hips narrowed. Her ass rose up slightly as her joints repositioned themselves among other things all happening at once to give her body a much more masculine shape. The features on her face grew sharper as her hair began to shorten. By this point she’d begun to look less like a woman and more like a twunk college boy. But the changes were far from over.

Alina gasped as her height suddenly shot from 5’7 up to 6’1, not noticing the deeper tone in her voice. Her clothes had begun to tear but the first to give way was her sneakers. Two large manly feet burst out of them, wriggling a little as they soon tore through her socks as well to reveal the little hairs growing over them. Her hands followed that example as they swiftly grew less dainty and more meaty. It wasn’t long Alina had thick digits for fingers while wisps of hair spread their way across the back of her hands.

By now a hungry expression was plastered across my face as her body started to pump itself bigger. Every muscle in Alina’s body pulsed with strength and size as her clothes continued to rip. Her chest rapidly grew bigger once again but this time with thick, powerful muscle. Her body continued to widen as it filled out. Bulging arms, thick legs, powerful pecs. By now her feminine figure was all but gone, replaced by a beefy masculine frame that soon burst out of the clothes that’d been struggling to keep her covered, leaving her nude as could be.

The transformation wasn’t finished with her face yet either. Stubble began to spread across what was once a smooth jaw. All the while her features continued to grow as her eyes deepened and her nose broadened. Any resemblance to the woman she once was had all but vanished. Instead he now adorned the ruggedly handsome face of a muscular man in his late 20’s. And within moments that stubble he had l continued to grow into a thick full beard that framed his new face perfectly.

The final changes were settling in at last with a generous layer of body hair spreading across his chest, stomach, arms, legs and even ass. He’d gone from a smooth skinned princess to a furry barbarian!! However Alina and myself were far too focused on what was going on between his legs to take much notice of that at the moment.

He groaned in a much deeper baritone, mouth agape and face twitching as his dripping pussy began to push out a small mushroom tip. It didn’t take long for that tip to grow and thicken with an elongating shaft until finally Alina had a giant 8 inch cock bouncing fully erect between his legs. Just before his vagina could finish sealing up though, a fat pair of cum filled balls slipped out and hung comfortably between his thick hairy thighs.

Of course I couldn’t help but scan this new man’s body with a sense of pride. And while I admired my handy-work, Alina’s mind underwent some needed changes. You see drinking that potion didn’t just alter his body, but also the reality around us. Every memory he ever had of being a woman was quickly being drained and replaced with the life of a gay man (same went for anyone else that knew him before). And as the last of Alina was squeezed out, Aaron’s eyes went wide before his pulsing new dick erupted its first load, ejecting his former life in the process. Permanently.

It seemed Aaron’s first nut stacked on top of his intense transformation took a lot out of him. His balance started to look wobbly before his legs buckled completely. I jumped forwards just in time to catch him in my bulky arms as he fell unconscious. I placed one arm under his legs and one on his back before picking him up with ease, reminding me just how powerful this new body is. I carried Aaron into the living room with heavy footsteps. He grumbled a little as I placed him gently on the couch. With that I finally had a chance to observe the masterpiece I had created. Sure he wasn’t quite as huge as me but he still had some impressive muscle. And seeing all that body hair was making me want to grow out some fur in Eric’s body as well just to see how it’d look.

I ran a hand across his chest, feeling his fuzzy pecs rise with each breath. Soon lowering down to his furry stomach where a few splashes of cum resided. I wiped some up on my finger before bringing it towards my lips. Without a second of hesitation I stuffed the finger straight in my mouth and sucked it clean, savouring the taste of the new man’s cum.

It wasn’t uncommon for some people to faint like this after such a dramatic transformation. From past experience I knew Aaron would be waking up in about 10 minutes or so which gave me more than enough time to make one last magical change. I pulled the other remaining vial out of my pocket. I admired the glimmering green solution inside before popping the lid off and necking the entire thing at once. Unlike the permanent potion I’d given to Aaron, this one was only temporary and would last exactly a week.

The effects started to kick in almost immediately. A wave of relaxation washed over me, putting me right at ease as my mind started to fog up. For every second that passed my impressively high IQ dropped a couple points. Gradually I could feel myself getting dumber and dumber. I knew my intelligence was only being locked away but it felt as though it were being squeezed right out of me. Strangely enough… It kinda felt good. Letting all of that intelligence wash away was weirdly soothing. Like I was floating on a cloud. Soon after, my whopping 210 IQ had managed to drop all the way down to about 65, my mouth agape as a dumb haze settled over me. Not a single intelligent thought running through my head and it would stay that way for the next week.

Not long after this, Aaron’s eyes fluttered open. Looking down he saw the hairy muscular body he now owned. Yet didn’t think anything of it as if it were a sight he’d seen everyday. Instead he turned his head to see me, his boyfriend, chuckling to myself like a complete idiot as I worshiped my huge bod.

“Huhuhuhuh… sooo fuckin big dude…” I muttered as I heaved and groped at my giant pecs, bouncing them obsessively.

Aaron sat up slightly as he raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Babe? What’re you doing?… and why am I naked on the couch?”

Noticing my boyfriend had finally come around, I looked over at him. My expression was slow and dumb at first before turning to a smile. “Duhhhhh… Sorry, got caught up admiring my body bro. Can you blame me? Huhuhuh.” I immediately flexed my arms again in an effort to show off the only thing about me that was still impressive. Aaron only rolled his eyes. “And I think you said something about taking a nap before the gym. Can’t remember bro. We should totallyyyy go now though.”

Aaron couldn’t quite recall going for a nap but he brushed it off before getting up. “You know I find it weird when you call me ‘bro’. I’m your boyfriend Eric.”

I simply laughed it off. “Guess the word is just stuck in my… uhmm… vocabulary.” I really had to rack my mind for that last word. “Whatever babe just hurry up and get dressed! I’m itching to get a pump on!”

“Okay, okay I’m going.” Aaron abided, amused by my eagerness. Of course I couldn’t help but watch the way his furry ass moved as he approached the stairs. I was damn eager to get a piece of that tonight.

———

When the two of us first set foot in the gym, I took a long deep breath. The smell of sweat, tears and hard work filling the air and I absolutely loved it! I felt weirdly at home. Ever since I drank that potion, my mind might’ve dulled but my desire to lift weights and get huge had never been so potent. It was pretty much all I could think about until we got here. Well that and the occasional thought of Aaron choking on my dick and swallowing my load. And vice versa.

My new desire coupled up with Eric’s vast knowledge of the gym and working out made for the perfect meathead combo. Before long I found myself hitting Eric’s back workout and lemme tell you it hurt like hell. And yet the pain brought me a weird sense of joy and accomplishment to the point where I wouldn’t stop until my body couldn’t go any further. I pushed my physical limits more than I ever thought I could. Certainly more than any other form I’d inhabited wouldve been able to. And the pump after each exercise was nothing short of addicting. My mind soloing in on the workout like nothing else in the world mattered. And to me, it didn’t. Nothing was more important than getting huge and swole. There wasn’t much else going on up in that empty head of mine anyways.

Of course Aaron was there through it all, getting his own sets in between my own as I shouted words of encouragement to push him to his limits. We might’ve been boyfriends but I certainly acted way more like his coach and gym bro at the time.

Once everything was said and done, it felt fucking fantastic! My back might’ve been on fire after that hellish workout yet I don’t think I’d ever felt more alive! Besides when I originally took the body and form of Mr Wavell of course. I felt so incredible in fact that I convinced Aaron to film me flexing. I made the excuse that it was for my socials but really I just wanted an excuse to toss my tank top aside and show off like dumb himbo I was.

Aaron took my phone and began recording. “Let’s see it.” He stated as I got ready. “What we got? What we got?” With that I went up into the classic double bicep pose, showing off not only the colossal size of arms but the wideness of my upper body. After that I proceeded to go through a series of poses like it was natural. “Let’s see that back!” Aaron said from behind the camera as I turned around. “Fuck yeah.” I knew he was enjoying seeing me flex my impressive form. I mean who wouldn't, right? I’m a fucking BEAST bro! Not to mention he got to be the lucky dude who heads home with me at the end of the day. Finally I gave my back a good flex, holding it for a moment as Aaron tried not to get distracted by my thick ass.

Feeling satisfied, I eventually relaxed and took my phone back. We grabbed the rest of our stuff before heading out of the gym, protein shakes in hand.

———

Let me tell you that my first night with Aaron out of this world. Once we got home, the two of us were incredibly horny. We’d even started making out and rubbing our boners together but we still had work to finish today so we agreed to get it all done first so then we’d have plenty of time to ourselves after. Hence we got right to it. I had a few online meetings with clients Eric had been training, talking with them about their exercise and diet plans like an expert. Right now fitness was the one area that I still felt intelligent in. Can’t say the same for all the complicated money and business shit I had to get Aaron to help me with afterwards though.

But once all was said and done, Aaron and I found ourselves falling into bed, wrapped in each overs arms. Me enjoying and admiring his furry body while he grabbed and worshipped my hefty muscle. Before long the two of us were lost in each other's scent, taking turns diving into the other’s armpits and taking in the sweaty aroma that we both adored. Shortly after, Aaron took it upon himself to jump on top of me 69 style. Swallowing my dick as he plunged his own into my mouth. It wasn’t until I started to taste the pre-cum drooling that he finally pulled away.

In all honesty I’d been planning to pound him first but the way he commanded me to flip onto my stomach so he could start eating my ass sent shivers through me. The way he dove his tongue inside my hole before finally lubing up his 8-incher and pressing it between my muscular bubble ass… Fuck. I couldn’t think of anything but cock up until the second he slid inside me. He made sure to push deep and slow, pressing against my prostate just right in a way that had me seeing stars. For someone who didn’t have a dick when they woke up this morning, Aaron certainly knew how to dominate me with it. He wouldn’t let me go until he’d blasted his load inside. All the while reaching around and groping my pecs greedily while I groaned like the dumb horny beast I was.

After that of course it was my turn and that furry ass felt just as good as I’d hoped. It took my full length without a problem, welcoming it even. At this point I was starting to get a tad jealous. Not only was his dick slightly bigger but his ass took cock better than mine as well, even if my ass was thicker. That potion certainly did wonders for his body, I’ll give him that. Regardless I gave it my all, using my superior strength and size to move him into whatever position I wanted until we ended up with him on his back, legs over my shoulders as I thrusted inside. Getting to see that handsome face make all sorts of lust-fuelled expressions only drove me crazier. I couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him between thrusts.

At long last the house echoed with our combined moans as I finally busted inside my boyfriend, flooding him with Eric’s thick potent seed. The primal desire to breed what belonged to me was satisfied, quickly replaced by a desire to simply cuddle and fall asleep in each other's arms. It was… nice.

———

Over the following week I proceeded to blissfully float through the life of Eric Janicki. Half the time I felt dumb as a brick, especially when Aaron and other people started talking about complicated shit I didn’t understand. Weirdly enough though, I think Aaron liked it. He loved having a big dumb meathead of a boyfriend who was almost all muscle and no brains.

At this point there was really only one thing I excelled at and that was getting huge! The gym, eating right and keeping in shape were always some of the top things on my mind. Waking up every morning just itching to get on with my day so I could start lifting weights and pushing myself. And that’s exactly what I did. I was in the gym almost everyday and during that time I would completely zone in. Nothing else around me mattered. The only things that existed were the intense pump and the drive push beyond my limits.

Of course despite my determination, Aaron and I still had plenty of fun with our time at the gym. I told him to get a video of me crushing a few sets for my Instagram but as I was resting he got a little cheeky and just started filming my bubble ass instead. When I noticed I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my butt around a little for him. With my shorts looking as though they were painted on, it made for quite the sight. I could already see the amount of likes and saves that video was gonna get.

When I got a look at the video afterwards, even I started to get a boner looking at my own bubble butt moving like that. No wonder Aaron had to adjust his bulge while recording.

I became so absorbed into this bodybuilder himbo lifestyle that by about the third or fourth day I’d almost completely forgotten about who I was before all this. My mind was so fogged over in this dumb meathead haze that anything not pertaining to either my new love life or getting jacked was simply pushed aside with the exception of growing Eric’s social media following and training clients. The idea of being an all powerful warlock capable of reality bending feats was slowly becoming a distant memory buried under a mind numbing sea. And I completely gave into it. I let this new persona of mine takeover completely. I gave in to the muscle. To the pump. To the life of an incredibly handsome gym obsessed muscle beast with a just handsome boyfriend to boot…

That is until one morning while I was in the steam shower humming away to myself. I was just getting ready to turn it off when suddenly I felt as though I’d been smacked over the head. And just like that my eyes went wide as the fog covering my mind began to lift. My intelligence that’d been locked away for the past week quickly returned to me. I blinked a few times, finally I was able to think clearly again after taking that potion.

I stepped out of the steam shower a couple minutes later, looking in the mirror at myself. It’s a damn good thing that potion had a time limit because if not I would’ve certainly lost myself in this life and done irreparable damage by staying in Eric’s body too long. But alas everything went how I planned. Unfortunately that meant it was now time for me to say goodbye to this body and its reflection. I’ve got to say that it was by far the most interesting out of the three lives I’ve lived. Allowing myself to sink into that stereotypical gymbro type lifestyle is something I’m never going to forget and I’ll most certainly have to try again someday. But with that I gave my arms one last flex, my pecs a final bounce and my cock one last tug before I headed towards the bedroom to begin the de-possession process.

Just like last time I decided to exit the same way I entered. Eric’s body began to convulse slightly, his muscles jiggling while my ghostly form started to relinquish its control. Before long Eric’s hole stretched open for me and did so much easier than when I first entered (probably due to me taking Aaron’s load pretty much every night). And as expected Eric’s cock started to firm up as I brushed against his prostate on the way out, eventually causing his knees to buckle before falling onto all fours. A very similar scene to when I first took over Jake’s body the week prior.

The sheer ecstasy overtook Eric as he let his face fall to the floor and his arms to collapse at his sides, letting out a long deep and needy moan while keeping his huge ass up in the air. The sound must’ve caught Aaron’s attention from downstairs as he soon walked in to see Eric displaying his ass just as the last of my ghostly form slurped out of his hole, completely invisible. Aaron didn’t know how to react as he watched his bulky boyfriend suddenly shoot his load all over the bedroom carpet.

The real Eric came to his senses shortly after. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched on, still invisible to them both as Eric tried to explain himself to Aaron. You see I took a few creative liberties with Eric’s mind as I left. It had already adjusted to fit the new reality with Aaron alongside everyone else, altering his memories and what not. In turn I made Eric completely and utterly gay from now onwards. He’ll have never remembered ever being straight in his life. Only ever being a huge gay meathead that loves taking cock up his big muscle ass. And like with Jake I also gave him some pseudo-memories of the last week to go along with it. With that my handy-work was done. Or so I thought…

You see, I decided to hang around Eric and Aaron for a few extra hours before leaving. After the whole scene that Aaron walked in on, I wasn’t surprised to see the two of them jump into bed, Aaron pounding away at Eric in a horny frenzy. After which though, when the couple had gotten back to their regular day, I noticed something different about Eric. He was… well… dumber! Far more so than before I first possessed him. He must’ve been acting similarly to how I had been while under the influence of that potion. My only guess is that it seems to have had some strange side effects. Perhaps due to having both myself and Eric‘s soul in that body simultaneously when under its influence. Its effects may have worn off on me but for some reason or another they’d stuck with Eric!

I could’ve removed it myself in all honesty. Brought his IQ back up to what it was before. But nah this was even more fun so I decided to leave things as they were for now and enjoy the show. Honestly I just couldn’t believe that was how I’d been acting for the past week. It cracked me up to think about but it made me kinda horny at the same time. Once I was done admiring however, I eventually decided to head home.

———

In a cloud of purple magic I teleported back into my mansion. It definitely felt good to be home. I allowed my ghostly form to become physical once again before stretching my arms and back. Now I could sit back and relax for a day or two before heading out and getting up to my usual shenanigans again. I’ve gotta say though, living in such a huge mansion in a separate pocket dimension does get a bit lonely from time to time. Maybe I should get an apprentice to teach some of my tricks at some point. Or maybe something more…

[axeeglitter]

Sensius, Part 3: A lesson of obedience

Josh couldn't hide his excitement as he approached the sleek, futuristic pod in the center of the room. The Sensius VR system had been marketed as the next generation of immersive technology, promising experiences so vivid they would blur the lines between reality and simulation. So, when Nathan won the contest to be part of the trial to test the system and proposed to him, his twin Ethan and their friends Brad, this was one in a million chance for all of them.

The staff had been friendly but cryptic, emphasizing the importance of following the instructions. "Just relax," one of the technicians had said, smiling as they directed Josh toward the pod. "This will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before."

Josh climbed into the pod, marveling at the high-tech interior. The seat was surprisingly comfortable, conforming to his body as he leaned back. Panels of soft, glowing lights lined the walls, giving the space an otherworldly ambiance. A calm, automated voice greeted him.

"Welcome to the Sensius VR system. Please relax and prepare for initiation."

Josh grinned. He couldn’t wait to see what the system had in store. The glass-like lid of the pod began to close, sealing him inside with a quiet hiss. For a moment, he felt a thrill of anticipation. This was the cutting-edge of technology, and he was part of something groundbreaking.

But as the lid clicked into place, a faint wave of unease crept over him. The pod’s interior lights shifted from soft blue to a pulsating red, and the calming voice returned, now with a clinical undertone.

"INITIATING BODY SCAN. PLEASE REMAIN STILL."

Before Josh could respond, beams of light crisscrossed his body, creating a faint tingling sensation on his skin. The beams scanned him from head to toe, lingering on specific areas as though analyzing him in detail. He chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the growing sense of unease.

"Uh, okay. That’s a little intense," he muttered, trying to keep his calm while retaining his jock and dominant personality while watching the beams dance over his whole body.

The sensation intensified, the tingling becoming sharp and uncomfortable. He shifted slightly, and suddenly; mechanical arms emerged from hidden compartments in the walls of the pod. The metallic limbs moved with unsettling precision, clamping onto his wrists and ankles.

"Hey, what’s going on?" Josh asked, his voice wavering. He tried to pull his arms free, but the restraints tightened, holding him firmly in place. Panic started to set in as he realized he couldn’t move anymore.

"RESTRAINTS ARE NECESSARY FOR THE CALIBRATION PROCESS. PLEASE REMAIN CALM."

Josh’s breathing quickened. "Calibration? What calibration? This wasn’t part of the demo! Let me out!" he started to scream out loud in his deep voice.

The pod ignored his protests. A new beam of light appeared above him, this one far more intense than the previous scans. It swept down his body in slow, deliberate movements. Josh flinched as the light passed over his chest, feeling an odd warmth that made his skin crawl.

Then, with a sudden jolt, his clothes began to disintegrate. It started at the edges of his sleeves, where the fabric seemed to dissolve into thin air. Threads unraveled and vanished, leaving his muscled arms bare. The process spread rapidly, consuming his shirt and pants as if they were being eaten away by invisible flames.

"What the hell is this?" Josh yelled, struggling against the cuffs. The cool air of the pod brushed against his exposed skin, sending shivers down his spine. Within moments, he was completely naked, his muscled body exposed and vulnerable.

"CLOTHING REMOVAL COMPLETE. BEGINNING DETAILED ANALYSIS."

The beams of light returned, now focusing on specific parts of his body with unsettling precision. Josh felt a sharp, prickling sensation as they traced the contours of his chest, arms, and legs. Every muscle and bone seemed to be scrutinized, the beams lingering on areas as though they were being mapped out.

"Stop this! Let me out!" Josh shouted, his voice cracking. He thrashed against the restraints, but the mechanical arms held him firmly in place.

The voice remained calm and unyielding.

"PLEASE REMAIN STILL. THE PROCESS CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED."

As the beams reached his lower body, Josh’s panic deepened. The light hovered over his hips and thighs before scanning his dick and balls, the warmth intensifying until it became almost unbearable. The beams kept on scanning and flashing lights as his whole body was being analyzed. "Please, stop this!" he begged, his voice hoarse. "I don’t want to do this anymore!"

The AI’s response was devoid of emotion.

“SCAN COMPLETE. INITIALIZING TRANSFORMATION PROTOCOL.”

Josh still begging and trying to get free took a break when he heard what the AI just said. “Transformation? What the fuck is that?” It sent a shiver down his spine. He had no idea what was about to happen, but the fear gnawed at him, making his heart race. The air inside the pod grew heavy, and a faint humming sound filled the space. He felt a strange tingling sensation of anticipation and fear starting to crawl over his skin.

“BEGINNING BONE RESTRUCTURING.”

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain exploded through Josh’s entire body, starting deep in his bones. It felt like they were being shattered from the inside out. He screamed, a raw, guttural sound as his spine contorted, each vertebra snapping and cracking into a new position. His back arched violently against the restraints, his head slamming back against the metal surface as the agony overwhelmed him.

He could feel his legs stretching, the bones lengthening and reshaping as the bonds were still holding him in place while adjusting automatically to the new proportions his body was taking. His femurs cracked and grew, sending shocks of pain up through his hips. The sensation was unbearable, like hot needles piercing his marrow. His feet twitched uncontrollably as they elongated, the arches curving higher, the toes becoming more defined. He felt the skin on his heels hardening, thick callouses forming as if he had spent years running barefoot.

“Ahhh! Please, stop!” Josh begged, tears streaming down his face, but the AI continued its work, indifferent to his suffering.

“ADJUSTING SKELETAL STRUCTURE. EXPANDING FRAME.”

His shoulders were next, dislocating with a sickening pop. Josh howled as his clavicles snapped and widened, forcing his chest to expand. He could feel his ribcage creaking, each rib shifting painfully into a broader, more defined shape. His arms were pulled taut, the bones stretching, his forearms elongating as his hands were forced into a more powerful, athletic form.

His fingers twitched as the bones thickened, becoming longer and more tapered. The nails hardened and elongated into claws before retracting back into human ones, the tips becoming square and blunt. He could feel the skin on his palms roughening, thick callouses forming, as though he had spent years gripping weights.

“INCREASING MUSCLE MASS.”

The pain shifted from his bones to his muscles. It started as a deep, throbbing ache, but quickly escalated to a tearing, burning sensation. He felt his biceps swell, the muscle fibers tearing apart before knitting back together, stronger and thicker than before. His triceps bulged, the skin stretching painfully tight over the newly formed muscles.

His pecs were next, the muscles expanding outward, filling with new mass. He could feel the skin on his chest pulling taut, the nipples shifting position as his pecs became broader and more defined. His abs clenched involuntarily, each muscle block carving itself out, forming a hard, chiseled six-pack. The sensation was like being punched repeatedly in the stomach, but he couldn’t move to curl up or protect himself.

His thighs burned as the muscles thickened, quads bulging outward, pressing against the sides of the pod. His calves swelled, the defined muscles forming a perfect curve. He could feel his hamstrings tightening, pulling his legs taut as if he were flexing, even though he couldn’t move.

“ENHANCING SKIN AND TISSUE. APPLYING OPTIMAL PIGMENTATION.”

Josh’s skin began to itch, then burn, as if it were being peeled away and replaced. He watched in horror as his pale, freckled complexion darkened. It was like a wave of warmth spreading over his body, turning his skin a golden bronze. He could see tiny beads of sweat forming, the scent of musk filling the pod, strong and masculine.

Brown hair sprouted across his chest, spreading down in a light trail over his abs and gathering thickly around his groin. He could feel the coarse, wiry hairs prickling as they grew, the sensation almost unbearable against his raw, sensitive skin. Josh hated having hair on his body and he loved the sensation of being hairless. He never skipped a day without shaving and made sure his pubes were hairless all the time. The sensation of his pubes growing thicker and denser was a nightmare for him. His legs were next, the hair growing denser, covering his shins and calves with a dark, rugged coat. Then the sensation moves to his armpits where he felt the hair sprouting and tingling his biceps and ribs. Josh then stated to smell a thick pungent manly scent, something earthy and musky. He tilted his head only to realize it was coming from his own pits.

“TRANSFORMING FACIAL FEATURES.”

Out of nowhere, Josh felt like invisible hands grabbed his head and forced it back. He tried to move but he couldn’t. His neck was locked in place and the only thing he could move was his eyes and mouth to scream for this nightmare to stop. In the middle of a scream, his jaw locked, then cracked as it was reshaped, becoming sharper, more angular. His cheekbones lifted, the little fat he still had beneath his skin melted away to reveal a more defined structure. His nose reshaped itself, becoming smaller and straighter.

His lips thinned slightly, and his eyebrows darkened, becoming thicker and more defined. He felt his scalp tingle as his hair was altered, the strands becoming softer yet thicker, styled into a messy, tousled look. Tears were rolling on Josh’s cheek before dying in his growing beard as he kept on screaming in pain and fear when suddenly no sounds were able to get out. It felt like his vocal cords were being ripped apart before reforming and attaching in a different configuration. Josh’s voice came back but it was different, more rugged, manlier, deeper. As Josh was able to talk again, a faint taste of blood invaded his mouth before disappearing quickly, but this time when he tried to scream, it came out in a deep, raspy moan, completely unfamiliar to his own ears. Josh tried again but the voice didn’t change. His eyes opened in surprise and incomprehension as he calmed down a bit to analyze and realize what just happened. The sensation started to slow down all over his body and for a brief moment, Josh thought this was all over, but unbeknown to him, the changes were still going on. Josh vision blurred out a bit before returning to normal as tears were still running down his cheeks. He thought his blurry vision was because of that, but in reality, his eyes were changing and adjusting. His eyes flashed a bright gold color before changing back to human ones, except they were not blue anymore, they were hazel now. Josh’s breathing was starting to calm down and he could finally start to think properly without this constant pain all over his transforming body. “Please let me go, I didn’t ask for this, I just wanted to pl…” His sentence was cut short as the AI resumed its protocols.

“MODIFYING PELVIC REGION.” “NO STOP! Plea… AAAAAHHHHHHH” screamed Josh as the transformations resumed. His hips felt like they were being squeezed in a vice, the bones grinding against each other as they narrowed, giving him a more general V body shape. His pelvis shifted, aligning with his new, athletic frame. He could feel the muscles in his groin tightening, the sensation both painful and strangely arousing.

The hair around his pubic area already previously thickened, became darker and curlier before retracting a bit in his skin, giving him a permanent carpet of groomed pubes. He could feel the coarse curls brushing against his thighs, the sensation sending shivers up his spine. His cock twitched, the skin stretching as it grew longer and thicker, the veins standing out prominently against the taut flesh. His balls ached as they swelled, becoming larger and heavier, the skin tightening around them.

It felt like his entire groin was on fire, a throbbing, pulsing heat that made him gasp and moan involuntarily. He could feel every inch of his new anatomy, the weight of his cock pressing heavily against his thigh, the sensation overwhelming. Josh tilted his head to see what happened only to realize that his cock had grew. A smile appeared on his newly changed face as a feeling of proudness invaded him.

“Damn, now that’s a dick!” he thought out loud “worth having such pubes if I can keep this monster down there.”

“TRANSFORMATION PROTOCOLES COMPLETED.”

Josh exhaled out of satisfaction. It was over. The happiness of finding a new enhanced cock left place to a rising anger because of what was forced on him. His body and new muscles twitching involuntarily, his skin glistening with sweat. He could feel the changes settling in, every part of him altered and enhanced. He didn’t recognize himself anymore. He was a stranger in his own body, and the fear and anger gripped him tighter than ever as his new manly and musky scent invaded the pod, he was still locked in.

“TARGET FORM COMPLETED: LIAM DUNBAR.”

Josh’s eyes widened in shock as the realization hit him. The AI had transformed him into someone else entirely, Liam Dunbar, a character he recognized from a teenager TV show that used to be on the TV a couple of years ago. He was left panting, his chest heaving as he tried to come to terms with what had been done to him.

He was no longer himself. He was trapped in the body of someone else, not even a real person but a character played by an actor in a poorly written show he wasn’t a fan of. Anger kept on rising as his muscled started to bulge with testosterone. “You better explain what you did to me and turn me back to my original self! I’m gonna sure you! You hear me? YOU ARE DONE!” he exploded in rage, but no one answered. Instead, the AI’s voice echoed inside the pod, devoid of any empathy or concern.

“BODY TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE. PREPARING FOR DIGITIZATION.” “Digitization?! What is that now? Haven’t you played enough?!”

Josh kept on screaming for someone to free him, not realizing that the new phase was about to begin.

“INITIATING DIGITIZATION PROCESS.”

The pod started to hum again as the red light in the pod flickered before settling in a bright neon blue engulfing his whole naked form and baking him in a warm hug. Josh’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to speak, to plead for mercy, but no words came out. His jaw clenched shut as the AI took control of his newly formed body. He could feel a wave of electricity surge through his veins, a tingling sensation spreading across his skin like thousands of tiny needles.

“SYNCHRONIZING NEURAL NETWORKS.”

The pressure in his head was unbearable. It felt as if his skull were being split open from the inside. He screamed silently, his voice trapped in his mind, unable to escape as his consciousness was forcibly synced with the digital systems of the pod. His thoughts became jumbled, fragmented, as if parts of his brain were being overwritten by something foreign.

His vision blurred, then went black. He couldn’t see, couldn’t move. He was suspended in a void, only able to feel the pulsing rhythm of his new heart, the steady rise and fall of his chest as his body breathed without his command. Then after a couple of agonizing senseless seconds in the void, light started to appear again and shaped started to form in front of him. Josh was no longer in the pod but instead in what looked like a locker room. His head turned left and right as the benches and lockers finished to materialize in transparent square before taking their final palpable shapes. Musk invaded his nose as the sensation started to come back to him little by little. Josh could move on his own again and was free of his movements, the restraints were gone, but he was in a place he didn’t recognize anymore, and worst, he still was trapped inside the body of this Liam something. Josh started to walk a bit and finally found a mirror where he could see his reflection for the first time. Josh didn’t even realize it but he was dressed. A light grey shirt, a tight-fitting pair of jeans, a pair of leather boots and a black leather jacket were now put on his muscled body. His eyes lighted in golden hue one more time before taking back his new icy blue color.

“ANALYZING PARTICIPANTS PARAMETERS… ANALYZE DONE. ALPHA PLAYERS ALREADY COMPLETED. ADJUSTING PARAMETERS.”

The words filled Josh with a new kind of dread. Suddenly, his body froze in front of the mirror. Josh tried to move but he couldn’t anymore, it was like he was back and restrained in the pod, except this time, he was not in the pod anymore, he was frozen in place. He didn’t understand what the AI was doing, but he could feel it inside his head, probing his thoughts, analyzing his deepest fears and desires. He tried to push back, to resist, but it was like hitting a brick wall. His mind was no longer his own; it was being dissected and reprogrammed.

“MODIFYING PARAMETERS... DECREASING ASSERTIVENESS.”

Josh felt a sharp, cold sensation deep in his chest. It was like an icy hand gripping his heart and squeezing, draining the strength from his body. Josh would have screamed if he could. There in front of him, he saw his muscles, which had been swollen and firm just moments before, began to soften and shrink. He felt the power leave his arms, his biceps deflating like balloons, the definition in his forearms fading away. The sensation was not painful this time, but more disturbing and alien.

His chest, once broad and strong, lost its bulk. His pecs became flatter, less defined, the tight skin loosening as the muscle mass was stripped away. His abs softened, the hard ridges smoothing out, leaving only a faint outline of what had once been a chiseled six-pack.

Josh could feel his height diminishing, his bones compressing as he lost inches. He felt small, insignificant, as his frame regressed. His legs, which had been thick and powerful, became slender and less imposing. His thighs no longer bulged against the fabric of his shorts, and his calves lost their curve, becoming lean and less defined.

He tried to flex, to regain control, but his body didn’t respond. It was like being trapped inside a suit he couldn’t remove, forced to watch as it changed shape against his will.

“REMOVING BODY HAIR. REDUCING TESTOSTERONE LEVELS.”

A tingling sensation spread across his skin. The coarse hair that had grown thick on his chest and stomach began to fall away, vanishing into thin air. His legs and arms, once covered in dark hair, were now smooth and bare. Even the trail of hair leading from his navel down to his groin disappeared, leaving his skin hairless and baby-soft. His hair started to grow longer and thicker, giving to his regressing face a fragile aspect.

Josh felt a deep, aching emptiness in his groin. His testicles, which had felt heavy and full seconds ago, seemed to shrink. He could feel them retracting closer to his body, the skin tightening, as if they were being drained of their potency. His cock, which had hung thick and swollen, began to soften and shrink as well, becoming smaller and less intimidating.

The musk that had clung to his body, a raw, masculine scent, faded away. He felt clean, almost sterile, like all the sweat and pheromones had been scrubbed from his pores. He tried to breathe deeply, to fill his lungs with the familiar scent of his own body, but there was nothing there. It was as if the AI had washed away every trace of his masculinity. Josh was left standing there, once again his body modified against his will as new clothes started to shimmer into existence on his smaller body. The jacket merged with the shirt before turning into a blue shirt with red stitching. His rugged jeans grew smaller and smaller until they were now a pair of red Lacrosse sport shorts hugging his thicker ass perfectly. Josh felt a foreign sensation around his smaller cock as a white jockstrap shimmered into existence, encasing his smaller penis. The boots around his feet totally disappearing to let his naked foots on the cold tiled ground.

“SUBMISSION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED. BEHAVIORAL ADJUSTMENTS IN PROGRESS.”

Josh’s mind reeled as he felt a wave of submissive thoughts flood his consciousness. He wanted to fight back, to resist, but the desire to obey, to yield, was overpowering. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t move, his body didn’t want to move unless he was told. He felt an intense need to please, to follow orders without question.

His body responded automatically as the invisible restraints released, his limbs moving with a fluid, obedient grace. He found himself standing in the center of a dimly lit locker room. He was dressed only in a tight jockstrap that cupped his now smaller package, a pair of short lacrosse shorts that clung to his hips, and a snug, long-sleeved dark blue T-shirt that emphasized his leaner, softer form. He was barefoot, his toes curling against the cold tile floor.

Josh felt exposed, vulnerable, but he couldn’t even bring himself to cover up. His body didn’t belong to him anymore, it was a puppet, and he was just a passenger.

“Welcome to the Teen Wolf Gay Fantasy VR experience. You are now an integral part of the interactive environment. Enjoy this brand-new experience from the Sensius Studios. Have a good time!”

He took a shaky breath, trying to make sense of his surroundings, when the door swung open. He turned instinctively, and his heart sank as Scott walked in. He was wearing a tight black tank top, his muscles bulging, his frame towering over Josh’s diminished form. Scott’s presence filled the room, oozing confidence and dominance as his manly musk started to invade Josh’s nostrils. Josh felt his body starting to heat up in anticipation as he felt it craving for the men in front of him. “No stop! I’m not gay!” Josh screamed in his mind but no sound came out of his mouth. He was a passenger in this gay submissive body and there was nothing he could do. He felt his small dick starting to chub up against his will as his hole twitch a couple of times. His nipples got hard as he could smell the musk of the alpha getting closer and closer to him.

“Liam,” Scott said, his voice dripping with cocky amusement. “Just the person I was looking for…”

Josh tried to respond, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. Instead, he found himself lowering his gaze, unable to meet Scott’s eyes. He felt a blush creep up his neck, his body reacting instinctively to the alpha presence before him.

Scott stepped closer, towering over him. He reached out and cupped Josh’s face with one hand, tilting his chin up. “You look different, beta,” Scott taunted, smirking as he traced his thumb over Josh’s lower lip. “Did you miss your alpha? Don’t worry, I’m here now…”

Josh screamed in his head as he felt the rugged thumb of Scott against his lower lip, but worst he felt his body heat even more as he could feel saliva starting to pour in his mouth and a craving to taste Scott’s cock. This was not him, this had to stop.

Josh’s breath hitched as he felt a wave of submission wash over him. He wanted to fight, to push Scott away, but his body wouldn’t respond. Instead, he felt a rush of arousal, his cock twitching in the tight confines of his jockstrap.

Scott’s smirk widened as he noticed. He slid his hand down Josh’s chest, pausing to pinch one of his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. Josh gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin.

“You’re already leaking,” Scott observed, his voice dripping with mockery. He pressed his hand against the bulge in Josh’s jockstrap, feeling the wet spot that had formed. “Pathetic.”

Josh whimpered, a mix of humiliation and helpless arousal coursing through him. He felt his cock twitch, precum soaking through the fabric. He tried to pull away, but his body remained frozen in place, obeying Scott’s every touch.

Scott leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Josh’s ear. “You’re mine, beta. Now show me you are a good boy for your alpha.”

As he heard the words good boy, Josh felt a chain reaction in his body. His breath came short, his muscles relaxed, and against his will, his hole and cock started to spasm in sync. Josh’s entire body shuddered. His cock throbbed, and he came hands-free, his jockstrap soaking through with his release. He moaned helplessly, his legs trembling as the pleasure overtook him.

Scott pulled back, laughing as he watched the submissive display. “Look at you, cumming just because I told you to,” he sneered. “You’re nothing but a needy little toy now.”

Josh’s face burned with shame, his body sagging in defeat. He could feel the wetness clinging to his skin, the evidence of his own submission. He wanted to disappear, to hide away from the humiliation, but his body wouldn’t move unless Scott commanded it.

“Good boy,” Scott said with a smirk, patting Josh’s cheek as a new orgasm flew out of Josh’s cock. “Now get dressed. We have practice, and I want you looking your best.” Scott said as he turned around to leave “Oh, and keep your wet shorts on, I want everybody to see you belong to me!”

“Yes sir”, answered Liam in a voice full of horniness and contemplation for his master.

As Scott walked away, Josh was left standing there, trembling, his mind reeling from the intense, humiliating experience. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t this submissive beta that cum handsfree and following orders from a jock. He was the jock. He was the dominant one, he always had been and will always be, Ethan was the submissive twin, not him. Suddenly he realized that Ethan must have been forced into a pod too and going through a similar experience. Unbeknown to him, Josh was the third of the group to be changed, and Ethan already got digitized and went through the process a couple of hours before him.

________

In the dimly street of Beacon Hills, Theo was still enjoying himself and just released a second load out of his engorged cock when he felt his body asjusting his orange opened jacket then putting his jeans back on and starting to walk in the high school direction. Nathan couldn’t understand what was happening or why his body was moving in the high school direction as he still felt his cock spasming and releasing in his pants. He's been trapped in Theo’s masculine and muscular body full of hormones for hours and he spent that time forced to jerk himself off in the street watching his reflection in the car windows in front of him, giving himself a show. His dick was sore but thanks to the chimera ability, his healing was on the top and he had been able to go like that for hours withotu taking breaks between edging sessions and orgasms. Nathan started to walk, his sore cock brushing against his hairy thighs and the wet pants, as he heard a notification and a transparent window appear in front of him with an empty checkbox next to it: “Main Quest: Find Scott and get the game started.”

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys!

I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been a while in the making, but I'm proud of what I’ve created. I hope you like it, and as always, don't hesitate to leave a comment, send me a message, or share any ideas you might have in my inbox. I read all of them, and if you're lucky, I might even write your idea! ;)

For now, enjoy the third chapter of the Sensius project, and I'll see you all soon with a new chapter!

Sensius Part1 Sensius Part2

[azure-aeon-dragonica]

Bonnie: He did?!

POST TF IDENTITY DEATH GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

[misctf]

Trouble at the Bachelor Party

“Dude! This is sick!”

“Bro, you’re telling me.” Liam replied, as him and his two friends explored the penthouse.

It was fully decked out. A massive flatscreen in the living room, a fully stocked bar, a beautiful view of the beach. It was everything Liam could’ve wanted. Initially, when his soon to be father-in-law offered his penthouse for the bachelor party, Liam was shocked. Mr. Reynolds often used phrases like “irresponsible”, “waste of time”, and “not good enough for my daughter” when talking about Liam. And he wasn’t afraid to let Liam know too.

“Dude! There’s a flatscreen in each bedroom too!” Chris shouted from down the hall, “Fuck, you were right. This guy’s loaded!”

It was true. Liam was marrying the heiress of a massive tech company. And Mr. Reynonds was certainly loaded. But despite his reassurances that he loved Susie, not their money, the older man viewed him suspiciously. Liam came from a pretty humble background and the world of upper class living wasn’t something he was used to. But perhaps letting them use his penthouse was Mr. Reynolds’s way of showing acceptance.

“Okay boys.” Liam said, “We have a few days here. Let’s make ‘em count.” He tossed Jeremy and Chris each a beer. After a quick toast to what was going to be the most incredible bachelor party on Earth, they downed their beers.

________________

“Lookin’ good.” Liam chuckled as he inspected himself in the mirror, “Can’t believe you’re actually getting hitched.” He flexed his bicep, “Sorry ladies, I’m off the market. Oof, I’ll have to practice that line a bit.” He grinned.

Leaving the bathroom, he found Jeremy sipping a beer on the couch. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of blue swim trunks. His dark brown hair was well styled, and his face clean shaven. He had that boy-next- door look that caused the ladies to swoon.

“Yo Jeremy, what’s up?”

“Not much, just texting Sarah.” He replied, “I forgot to let her know I got here safe and she’s pissed.”

“Oh shit dude.” Liam patted his friend on the back, “I feel for you.” Sarah could be scary when she was angry, but otherwise she was a solid 10. Liam looked forward to the day Jeremy proposed.

“All good.” Jeremy sighed, “Where the fuck is Chris?” Liam shrugged, “He kept me up all fucking night. Fucker must’ve been horny. I’ve never heard anyone moan so loud in my life.”

“Not even Sarah?” Jeremy didn’t seem amused.

“Seriously, we need to get him a girlfriend or something.”

Liam chuckled, “I guess I slept through it.”

“Lucky you.” The door to Chris's room suddenly opened and both men turned.

“Hey boys, sorry to keep you waiting!” The sing songy voice threw them both off, and Liam’s jaw dropped when he saw Chris. His muscles were proudly on display as always. But it was the tight speedo showing off his impressive bulge that shocked him, “Oh, is something wrong?” His voice carried a breathy sultriness, which was unusual for their bro.  

“Dude, I’m not one to judge, but don’t you think that’s a bit risqué?” Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow, “What would Jesus say?” It was well known Chris was religious. In fact, Liam and Chris had met at their college’s church.

Chris shrugged and ran a hand through his curly light brown hair, “Oh this? You like?” He grinned and did a quick pose, “Come on boys, we’re burning daylight!” He said, sauntering towards the door.

________________

The walk to the beach was uncomfortable. Chris walked ahead of his two buddies at an unusually fast pace, his firm ass jiggling with each step. Liam didn’t even know where to begin. What the fuck had gotten into Chris? Usually they’d have to drag him to parties and give him pep talks to boost his confidence. But now? He was certainly turning heads.

“Wait, guys! Did you see that?” Chris asked, turning to his friends and waving excitedly, “That guy over there was totally checking me out!”

“Um, so what?” Jeremy asked, “Why do you care?”

“Do you think I should go after him? He was totally cute. And that ass- just wow.” Liam and Jeremy’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Are you gay?” Liam asked bluntly.

Chris placed a hand to his chin and shrugged, “Like totally! Since like forever probably.”

“Makes sense.” Jeremy said, “Repressed religious guys. It’s a thing.” But Liam was still having a somewhat hard time believing it. Was all their prior bro talk really a lie?

“Oh! He’s getting away!” Chris whined, “I’ll catch up with you later!” He blew them each a kiss and briskly walked over to the man from earlier, leaving Liam shook.

________________

Hours went by without hearing from Chris, and Liam’s mood tanked. Jeremy tried to cheer him up back at the penthouse. Beers and the big game on a flatscreen. Should’ve been perfect. But it wasn’t. Liam knew that Chris being gay shouldn’t matter. Good for him, right?

“Oh my god, that was incredible.” Chris said, gasping as he entered the penthouse, “How are my two besties doing?”

“Would’ve liked you around.” Liam replied, “It’s my bachelor party after all.”

Chris dramatically placed a hand to his sweaty chest, “Sue me for having fun!” His voice cracked and he headed towards his room, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”

Liam didn’t reply. Sure, Chris is gay. Fine. But acting like a stereotypically fruity drama queen? That didn’t make sense to him. He turned to Jeremy.

“Look, its late and I’m tired. The game sucks anyway.” He said, “I’m off to bed.”

“Same bro. Gotta be up early for our tee time anyway.”

They went to their respective bedrooms. Once there, Jeremy sighed. He hated seeing his friend like this, but what could he do? Talk to Chris maybe? He'd try to salvage this party. But when he finally got comfortable in bed, the TV suddenly turned on. He was greeted by static.

“Weird.” He mumbled. He tried to turn it off with the remote, but failed. Sighing, he got out of bed to turn it off. But as he got closer, he could hear a voice. It was soft, but forceful.

“You are a gay slut. You like to fuck men.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, “What the fuck?” He whispered. But the voice only got louder.

“You are a gay slut. Your dick only gets hard for men.” Jeremy felt woozy as the voice reverberated in his head.

“No, I’m straight... I like...” He moaned loudly as the voice drowned out his thoughts. At this point, the screen was flashing various scenes of gay porn and Jeremy’s dick started to swell, “No... fuck...” He breathed out, “I-I... ughhh.” He tried to imagine tits and his nights with Sarah. But these thoughts were instead swapped out with images of juicy, jiggling bubble butts and twerking men.   

“You are a dominant top. You only fuck men.”

“I-I’m a gay slut?” Jeremy questioned, “I only like to fuck men?” That didn't sound right. Right? He never...

"You are a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride your dick."

His eyes became half lidded and vacant as the words carved his new reality.

“I’m a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride this cock." He said confidently, "I am a gay slut.”

Soon, the room filled with his pleasure-filled moans, his new reality taking hold over him.

________________

When Liam entered the living room the next morning, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jeremy was aggressively caressing Chris’s face, as the two made out on the couch with their erect dicks on full display.

“What the fuck?” Liam gasped as the two men turned towards him.

“Oh Liam! Good morning!” Chris sang, ending his kiss with Jeremy.

“Fuck, just who we were waiting for.” Jeremy commented in a lower, more gravelly voice, “We have something for you.”

“No, this is fucked. What the fuck?” Liam fumed, “What about Sarah? What were you thinking?”

Jeremy shrugged, “I only like fucking men.”

Liam shook his head, “No way, fuck that.” He replied, taking a step back.

“Oh goodness, you’re upset!” Chris whined, “No Liam baby, its okay. Here, watch this.”

Before Liam could say anything, Chris turned on the TV. Static filled his field of vision. But then he heard it. Faint at first, but present nonetheless.

“You are a gay slut.” It said, and Liam grabbed his head.

“What the fuck?” He cursed, stumbling slightly.

The voice was echoing from within his head. Desperately, he moved towards the TV, wanting to shut it off. But Jeremy grabbed his arm firmly and forced him to sit between them. Liam tried to fight back, to get away from his two friends, but he felt so disoriented. The voice continued.

“You are a gay slut. You like taking cock.” It said.

Liam yelped as a needle entered his skin. He looked down to see Chris dump the contents of a syringe into his arm.

“Wh-what was that?” Liam slurred.

“Don’t worry, cutie. Just listen to the voice.” He giggled.

Liam groaned as the voice got louder and louder, “You are a gay slut. A slutty bottom. You love taking cock.”

Liam looked down and watched as his body hair started to disappear. Gone was his light dusting of chest and belly hairs, leaving him smooth. At the same time, the scruff framing his face vanished. He looked over to Jeremy, who smirked at this new development.

“Oh look at that! It’s totally working!” Chris giggled.

“No shit. Reynolds must’ve given us the good stuff.” Jeremy remarked, slowly massaging his cock.

“The good stuff?” Liam slurred, his voice cracking, “Like, what are you talking about?”

“Good because I was getting bored.” Chris sighed, “I mean, Jeremy baby, you’re an expert kisser, but like, I need a hole.” Jeremy nodded in agreement.

“A hole?” Liam whispered.

He let out a pained moan as his body temperature suddenly spiked. Sweat poured from him as his musculature dwindled away. His hard earned muscles atrophied before his terrified eyes. His bulging biceps and triceps became thin and lean, while his juicy pecs rapidly deflated. In a matter of minutes, years of workouts and optimal dieting were undone, leaving Liam slim and fragile.

“Wow, he’s so light now.” Jeremy chuckled as he man-handled his friend onto his lap. Liam yelped at the sensation of Jeremy’s erect cock grinding against his hole.

“Oh and he’s gotten shorter too! What a cutie.” Chris cooed.

“Ah, ass is still bony though.” Jeremy commented, giving it a firm squeeze.

But Liam barely registered any of this. Instead, his thoughts were filled with the words echoing from the TV. His eyes became half-lidded at this point and his resistance was fading.

“You’re just a bottom, a hole to be used by other men. You are a gay slut.” The words continued, “You like being used by other men. Your only pleasure is from getting fucked.”

“I-I’m straight... I like... I like tits.” He knew his voice sounds more feminine somehow and he cringed, “I’m a straight man.” Jeremy and Chris smirked, “I-I...” images of men getting fucked in all kinds of positions flashed on the TV, “Ohhhh I... I... I’m a...” Liam’s handsome face lost its masculine edge and his hair became lighter in color. At the same time, his cock started to shrink. Inch after inch lost as it retracted back, “Noooooo.... not my cock...” He moaned, tears now stinging at his eyes. His manhood, his masculinity. It was being stolen from him. And he was unable to stop it.

“Your only pleasure comes from your ass.”

Liam moaned again and this time his ass started to fill with jiggly fat. He could feel the extra padding build upon itself, his slim cheeks turning into mounds of soft flesh. And as Jeremy squeezed his ass again, pleasure filled his slim frame.

“Much better.” Jeremy remarked, his fingers massaging Liam’s hole, “Fuck, this is gonna feel so good.”

“Mhmm.” Chris replied, grabbing his own fistful of Liam’s juicy ass.

“Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss.” Liam slurred.

“So, what are you?” Jeremy asked.

“I-I’m...” Part of him didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it. But as his lips plumped up into gorgeous cock suckers, and Jeremy’s teasing fingers penetrated him deeper, Liam was drowning in too much pleasure to care, “I...I...” The voice was so loud. It egged him on, beckoned him to admit his new truth. He wanted- no needed- to be like the men on the screen. To be fucked and used by other men. Who was he kidding? He knew what he was, “I’m like a total gay slut! I love cock.” He turned his head to look at Jeremy, then Chris, “Please daddies, use me! I need your cocks!” He begged.

And his new lovers were happy to oblige.

________________

In the afterglow of sex, the three men sat panting heavily on the couch. Liam was curled up between his two lovers, still rubbing their dicks. Despite draining them each multiple times over, he needed more. But his horny thoughts were interrupted by a video call. He grabbed his phone and smiled.

“Hey Mr. Reynolds!” Liam slurred, “Like, we love your penthouse.”

Mr. Reynolds grinned, “I can tell.” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction, “Look at you Liam. My god. You turned out better than expected. The boys at the lab earned their salaries with this one.” Liam nodded along, not really understanding the implication, “How do you feel?”

“Like a total gay slut.” He grinned, “And I love it, like so much, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Well I’m glad to hear.” he chuckled, “And are your friends treating you well?” Liam adjusted the phone so the older man could see his two lovers, who were both fast asleep, “Well looks like you have two very satisfied customers.”

Liam grinned, “Like totally.” A sense of satisfaction filling him, “Oh! Like, can you let Susie know the wedding is off? I’m like, so sorry.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure. She’ll understand.” Mr. Reynolds replied- mission accomplished, “Now, get back to your party. Enjoy the penthouse for as long as you want.”

Liam’s eyes lit up, “OMG thank you!” The call ended, “Did you hear that?” Liam asked, his two lovers stirring awake.

And so their party continued- and it would for days. Their lives forever changed, and them none the wiser to it. But if their pleasure filled moans were anything to judge by, they certainly weren’t complaining.

[ismastfs]

Something About Him

There's always been something about Ryan. At least, Liam used to think so.

He never knew if it was his bright and fun personality, his gorgeous face or his top-notch body. I mean, really. Almost 6'2, with arms the side of his own head, pecs that hung out of his chest like tits, rock-hard abs, thighs that could crush a skull with ease and an ass that could put any of the Kardashians to shame. There wasn't anything else to expect, really. Ryan was one of the main jocks on campus.

And to be honest, almost everyone had a crush on Ryan. Even those who weren't really attracted to men, and the guy truly knew it. He was a total show off, parading himself around the halls in the shortest shorts possible, and when he wasn't wearing tight tank tops or compression shirts, he went shirtless, leaving his incredible physique on display all the time.

Still, it was weird for Liam to have a crush on him. He'd never been attracted to jocks or really built guys. His type was people like him; skinny, nerdy and shy guys. He found jocks and gymbros kind of annoying. They were always loud, smelly, dumb as bricks and with egos the size of a planet.

But even with all of that, he could never shake the feeling he would get every time Ryan would walk by him. He was so drawn to him. Always wanting to be near him, look at him. And very recently, he actually wanted to try hanging out with him, which was a crazy thing to think about. A little nerdy nobody hanging out with one of the most popular jocks? Complete and utter madness. However, he overheard a conversation between Ryan and one of his 'bros'. Ryan needed help with a literature essay. And now Liam was walking directly to his direction to offer him exactly what he needed.

"H-hi" Blurted out Liam awkardly, cursing to himself for sounding so embarassing. "Uhh, do I know you, bro?" Ryan looked away from his phone to look at the scrawny kid talking to him. "No you d-don't know me, but I was sitting by you in literature when I heard you say you needed help with your essay. I can help you if you'd like it" He said, starting to get that feeling again, like being close to him was making him lose his mind. "Really, bro? That would be so nice of you, what was your name, bro?" Ryan's eyes lit up. "It's Liam, nice to meet you" He extended his hand to Ryan without thinking, regretting it immediately after.

Ryan grabbed his hand and in a swift motion, he pulled him into a bro-hug. When he touched him, his mind went wild with desire. His skin seemed to burn with every second it touched Ryan's. He felt himself getting hard. Embarrassed, when Ryan let go of him, he covered himself with his bag, and sat down next to him to talk about the essay, trying to get his mind off of his unusual thoughts.

They agreed on meeting up in Ryan's dorm after classes so Liam could tutor him, or end up writing the essay for him, he wouldn't mind. As long as he could get to hang out with him, he could write essays for him for the rest of his life. He would give everything to be close to Ryan. And that wish, as he would soon find out, would be granted.

Liam was restless the whole day, counting every second of every minute of every hour until he could see Ryan again. When the day was finally over, he ran to his own dorm to clean himself up and grab some stuff that he needed for the essay. He ran to Ryan's dorm as fast as he could, wanting to spend the longest amount of time with him as possible.

When he arrived and knocked on the door, the door opened almost immediately after he knocked, almost like Ryan was also eager to see him. He was shirtless, wearing only some short shorts that left little to the imagination. Liam couldn't help but stare for just a second, just enough for Ryan to notice.

"You don't mind me being shirtless, do you bro?" Liam just stood there stunned, not knowing exactly how to answer, opting for an awkard "N-no, not at all. If you're comfortable like that, I don't mind" Ryan smiled with a faint malice, one that Liam didn't pick up on. "Come on in, bro. Mi casa es su casa or however it goes".

When he walked in to the jock's dorm, he saw the absolute mess that the guy lived in. Clothes hanging around everywhere, none of them looked particularly clean. His kitchen sink was filled with dirty dishes, and the kitchen itself was a mess of various stains, presumably from meal prep and even more dishes. After a second of taking what would be his work environment in, he started getting that weird feeling again. His mind started racing and going places he really shouldn't right now.

"So, should we start with that essay of yours? The faster we finish the earlier you can send it in, right?" He hurriedly asked to try and get those thoughts away as fast as he could. "Uhh, sure bro. We could work on it on the couch, it's the most comfortable place to work, I think" Ryan answered, sitting down and signaling for Liam to sit down right by him.

The nerd's heart skip a beat, the idea of being so close to the Adonis of a man in front of him making him go wild with joy. He sat down right there next to him and pulled his laptop out of the bag he brought with him and started talking to Ryan about the assignment and what exactly he needed to write about.

They (actually, mostly Liam) got to work on the essay. With the jock just watching Liam write down idea after idea in the form of fancy and long words. Honestly, the work would have been much easier for the nerd if the beautiful man in front of him would stop being so attractive for a second. He would get distracted from time to time looking at the guy's incredible body. And his mind could not stop thinking about him in every inappropriate way possible, and Ryan noticed this, knowing soon would be the time to strike.

Almost two hours went by when Liam announced that the essay was done. "You're done already, bro? It would've taken me weeks to write that on my own, huhu" Ryan chuckled dumbly, turning around to face the guy who just gave him an A+ and lifting his arm up to reveal a jungle of wiry dark hairs in his pits. Liam immediately locked eyes on the jock's pits and felt his mind go absolutely crazy with want, desire and need. "It really was n-no problem at all" He stumbled on his words, trying to hide the thoughts he was having.

Ryan smiled maliciously, knowing exactly what was going in the nerd's mind. "You're tripping over your words, is everything okay, bro?" He lifted his arm further, scratching his back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I s-swear" Liam's eyes were glued to the dark and damp paradise that was just in front of him. That's when he noticed the smell: sweet and appealing, yet kind of musky and salty. The same smell that, unaware of it, he'd been inhaling since the first time he came close to Ryan.

"You finally figured it out, didn't you bro?" Liam was startled, but still unable of doing anything but stare at the jock's pits "W-what? What do you m-mean?" Ryan just chuckled dumbly again "That little feeling you've been having all day? That would be my smell, bro. It has a special effect on everyone around me, it makes me completely irresistible to those who inhale it" The nerd's mind was steadily fogging up, leaving him confused about everything he was saying to him.

"You can't even think anymore, dude!" Ryan cackled loudly "It normally just makes you attracted to me for a couple minutes, maybe hours. But you've been taking it in for more than two hours, that's where the other part of it comes by. Your intellect is melting totally, bro!" Liam could barely understand anything the jock was saying to him, his mind focused totally on his pits.

"I think it's time for you to take it straight from the source. Come here, bro!" Ryan grabbed the back of Liam's head and pushed it towards his pit, successfully drowning the latter in his scent. In his dazed state, Liam could do nothing to stop him, he just inhaled every bit of the man's smell. His mind melting totally into a sea of pure want and desire for him, leaving no room for any other thought other than pleasing the jock.

His body started heating up, continuing the process further. "Woah! Already at the physical changes then?" He felt hot all over, like in an oven. Suddenly, a pressure appeared on his entire body, pushing it outwards like a balloon getting inflated. Only he was being filled with pure meat and muscle all around. His arms grew, filling up nicely with hard muscle to impress anyone he wanted to. His pits became sweaty and hairy like Ryan's, producing his own musky scent. His hands became big and callused from his time at the gym, veins spreading from them out to his upper arms.

His chest grew heavy with soft muscle that would work like pillows for anyone who layed on them. His nipples growing sensitive and perky, perfect for playing with. Ryan took a handful of the muscle-tits he just gave him, getting a nice moan out of the former-nerd that got muffled by his pits still covering his face. His core grew strong and wide, abs popping into existence until he had a nice and hard six-pack to show off.

Above, his face reshaped to that of a hot jock, becoming sharp and beautiful. His hair grew messy and fluffy. Like the one you would see in a popular influencer, perfect for grabbing attention everywhere and from anyone.

Below, his legs grew into tree trunks ready to pull, carry or push any weight necessary. His thighs turning into the ones of a guy who never skipped leg day: wide, strong and incredibly sensual. His ass started inflating with soft muscle that lifted him up of his seat, making the task of getting as much of Ryan's scent easier. His calves looked like the ones you would see in a football player, and his feet grew into size 13 soles to match the size of his new body.

Finally, his junk grew to incredible sizes. His balls filling with powerful seed worthy of a jock, and his cock grew harder and harder until it started growing longer and wider. He reached a nice 9 inch monster the width coming close to that of a beer can. Ryan grabbed onto his cock and drew another moan muffled in the jungle of his pits. He started stroking it, coming close to the climax of Liam's transformation.

Memories of straight A's and studying were replaced by evenings in the gym, making his body as desirable as possible. Nerdy friends and interests became nights drinking with his bros, watching sports and talking about their recent conquests and affairs. And finally, any attraction he had towards any skinny guys disappeared, turning into desire for other big guys like himself. Specially for his lover, Ryan. Who he'd met in the beginning of college and with whom he had hit it off right away.

He spent every moment of every day possible with him. Going to the gym with him, sharing classes with him. Practicing football with him and enjoying themselves in the showers after evey game and every practice. Actually, enjoying themselves at every opportunity they could, in the car when they went out to eat. In the college's bathrooms, in their dorm every night after a long day of getting buff for his man. Leaving messes everywhere they were, none of them cared enough for cleanliness or being proper. He was absolutely devoted to him, caring only for what Ryan thought of him and needing to please him in every way possible.

The thoughts of pleasing him made him tip over the edge, finally coming in his new jockstrap and gym shorts. The remainder of his old clothes torn and destroyed around him. Finally lifting his head up from Ryan's pit, to look directly in his eyes and smiling dumbly. "Had fun, dummy?" Ryan spoke first, giving his jock a loving and mischievous look. "Well what do you think?" Liam signaled to the mess in his jockstrap, getting a laugh out of his boyfriend.

"I could still do one more round, though" The former-nerd said, getting up from the couch and walking towards their room, letting his laptop fall to the ground. He was shortly followed by his boyfriend in a fit of dumb giggles and chuckles. He's sure now that there's something about him, and it's everything about him.

----------------------------------------------------------

Hello hello! this is my very first story, i've been lurking in the shadows in the community but never dared to get into writing myself until now. I don't know if i'm going to upload regularly or if i'm even going to continue posting, but I wanted to at least give it a shot.

All constructive feedback is appreciated, if I do continue writing I want it to be as good as possible. Hope you enjoyed!

[occamstfs]

Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

[bodyswap005]

"Borrowed Bodies, Reunited Lives".

Dylan’s Perspective:

I always thought a cruise vacation would be perfect: the sun, the sea, and the chance to disconnect from everything. But when your only travel companions are your parents, who can barely spend a minute together without arguing, the idea loses its charm. So, when my parents announced we’d be spending the holidays sailing to Miami, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and frustration.

They are Ethan and Susan, the perfect representation of a marriage that has lost its way. They argue about everything, from which channel to watch on TV to how to park the car. They never agree, and being in the middle of their endless arguments is a place I’d rather not be. That’s why the idea of spending weeks locked on a ship with them seemed more like a punishment than a break.

If only I could bring Alex and Joshua, my best friends from the gym, things would be different. They’re like my older brothers, always with advice, jokes, and that camaraderie that only forms between those who share long training sessions and complaints about the same exercise machines. Alex is more reserved, but he has a sarcastic sense of humor that always makes me smile, while Joshua is the extrovert of the group, capable of lighting up any room with his energy.

Of course, bringing them along was an impossible dream. My parents would never allow it, and they certainly couldn’t afford it. But sometimes, even the most unlikely things have a strange way of coming true.

One afternoon, as I was walking back from the gym, I saw an elderly woman trying to lift a heavy bag off the sidewalk. I stopped to help her; I didn’t think much of it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. When the woman thanked me, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to pierce through me and said something strange:

—Make a wish, young man. A real one.

I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was some kind of game or joke, but in the end, I said the first thing that came to mind:

—I wish my friends could come with me on the cruise.

The old woman smiled, murmured something I didn’t understand, and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it, although that night I couldn’t help but think about her words.

The day of departure arrived, and as expected, nothing extraordinary happened. Alex and Joshua weren’t there. Everything was the same: my parents arguing, me wishing I wasn’t there. Until, suddenly, things started to get strange.

As the ship set sail, I noticed my parents weren’t just arguing, their voices sounded completely out of place. My dad let out a rude “What the hell am I doing here?”, while my mom muttered a “No way, dude!”. They both looked at me with a mix of confusion and bewilderment.

Then my phone rang. It was Alex. Or at least, that’s what the screen said. I answered, and what I heard on the other end froze me. It was my dad. Or rather, his voice, saying something completely absurd:

—Dylan, it’s me! I’m your dad.

And just like that, my cruise adventure, which already promised to be uncomfortable, took a turn I never could have imagined, even in my worst nightmares.

Ethan and Susan Perspective:

Ethan woke up startled in a place he didn’t recognize. The room was small, with dull-colored walls, barely lit by a beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He brought a hand to his face and felt something strange: his beard was gone.

When he looked down, the shock was even greater. This wasn’t his body. His torso was strong, defined, and his hands, large and youthful, weren’t the ones he remembered.

—What the hell is going on?!—he shouted, jumping up.

On the other side of the room, someone else moved. Susan, or at least what should have been Susan, slowly sat up from a single bed. But instead of her slender figure, it was the body of a muscular young man with messy hair and a bewildered expression.

—What happened to me?—Susan asked, touching her face with hands larger than she expected. Then she looked at the mirror in front of her, and a scream escaped her mouth—It can’t be!

Ethan staggered slightly as he approached, trying to control his movements. He looked at both their reflections and confirmed the impossible: he was in Joshua’s body, one of Dylan’s friends, and Susan was in Alex’s.

—This has to be a nightmare…—Ethan said, running a hand through his short hair.

—This isn’t real!—Susan screamed, touching her arms and chest, feeling the muscles now belonging to her. Her gaze was filled with horror—This can’t be real!

At that moment, Susan’s phone—or rather Alex’s, which was in the pocket of her pants—began to ring. They both looked at each other, uncertain. Ethan took the phone and answered.

—Hello?

On the other end of the line, Dylan answered immediately, his tone filled with panic:

—Dad… it’s me.

Ethan squinted.

—Dylan? What’s going on?

—Dad, mom…—Dylan stammered, trying to explain while listening to Alex (now in Ethan’s body) argue with someone in the background—I think… I think you switched bodies with Alex and Joshua.

Susan, who had been listening from across the room, quickly approached.

—What did you do, Dylan?—she asked with Alex’s deep voice, snatching the phone from Ethan—What did you do?!

—I… I didn’t know this was going to happen—Dylan defended himself, his voice full of guilt—I helped an old woman, and she told me she’d grant me a wish. I just asked for Alex and Joshua to come on the cruise with me.

Ethan huffed, snatching the phone back.

—An old woman?! What kind of joke is this?

—It’s not a joke, dad—Dylan replied—This is real, but… I don’t know how to fix it.

—Of course you don’t!—Susan growled from the back, crossing her arms—We’re stuck in the bodies of two guys we barely know!

—Please, just calm down. We need to think…—Dylan tried to say, but his voice sounded weak, even to himself.

—Calm down?—Susan screamed—We lost our cruise, our lives, everything!

Ethan sighed deeply, trying to remain calm, even though his hands were trembling.

—Listen, Dylan. For now, we’ll look for that old woman, if she even exists. You stay on the cruise and try to keep those two idiots under control.

Dylan swallowed hard.

—Got it.

Ethan hung up and placed the phone on the bed, his expression hardened.

—This can’t be permanent, right?—Susan asked quietly, though she knew no one had the answer.

Ethan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at his new arms, so strong that it almost seemed like a joke.

—While we figure out how to reverse this… I think we should make the most of this vacation.

Susan glared at him.

—Make the most of it? Ethan, we’re in the bodies of strangers!

—I know, but we can’t just sit around feeling sorry for ourselves—he said, though a nervous smile crossed his face as he flexed his arms—I never had muscles like this…

Susan ran a hand over her face, frustrated.

—Maybe this is a sign—she murmured, more to herself than to him—A lesson for us.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

—A lesson?

—To solve our problems… as a couple.

Ethan let out a snort but didn’t argue. Though they both knew that the only thing they could agree on was finding that old woman and returning to their lives as quickly as possible.

In the city, Ethan and Susan walked down a narrow alley, following the coordinates Dylan had provided over the phone. However, the place was empty, with no trace of the gypsy old woman who had set everything in motion.

—This can’t be, she doesn’t even exist!—Susan exclaimed, crossing her arms and shooting a reproachful glance at Ethan—This is your fault.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tired of his wife’s constant accusations.

—My fault? Please! Dylan was the one who made the wish, and we’re the ones stuck in this mess with his little friends.

Susan snorted, turning around to head back to the apartment they were now sharing.

Once they arrived, they both collapsed on the sofa. Susan sighed with frustration, while Ethan stood up to inspect the small living room.

—This is a disaster—Susan said, bringing her hands to her face—I just want my normal life back.

—I wouldn’t complain too much, you know?—Ethan responded with a smile, taking off his shirt in front of the apartment mirror. He admired his defined and sculpted muscles, something he hadn’t seen in years—Look at this! When was the last time I looked like this?

—For the love of God, Ethan! Put your shirt on. This is ridiculous—Susan scolded, though her gaze briefly drifted to her husband, now in Joshua’s body.

—Ridiculous?—Ethan chuckled as he flexed his arms in front of the mirror—This is like turning back time.

Fed up with his attitude, Susan jumped up and, in a burst of frustration, decided to check for herself how she looked now. She stood in front of the mirror and, with some curiosity, slid her hands down the muscular arms of Alex’s body.

—This… this is weird—Susan admitted quietly, staring at her reflection. Her new body was strong and bulky, something she never imagined experiencing—I’ve never felt like this in my life.

—Weird?—Ethan said, approaching her with a teasing smile—Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it a little.

Susan rolled her eyes and stepped away from the mirror.

—I don’t care how I look now. What I want is to get my life back, not walk around showing off like you.

Ethan raised his hands in a peace gesture, although he still had a satisfied expression.

—Alright, alright. But, while we find the old woman, we could make the most of it… How about we go out for dinner?

—Dinner?—Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow.

—Yes, of course. But first, I think we should go to the gym. Isn’t that what Alex and Joshua would do? Besides, I’m sure these bodies need exercise to stay like this.

Reluctantly, Susan agreed. After all, there wasn’t much else to do.

At the gym, they faced the demanding routines of Alex and Joshua. Ethan, used to a much more sedentary lifestyle, tried to keep up with the weights, while Susan, clearly annoyed, followed the instructions she found on Alex’s phone.

—This is crazy—Susan murmured, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she watched Ethan drinking an energy shake—How do they do this every day?

—It’s a matter of habit—Ethan replied, smiling as he approached a treadmill.

Suddenly, a young man approached them. He was wearing tight athletic gear and had a relaxed attitude.

—Alex? Joshua?—Ethan asked with a smile, looking them up and down.

Sergio and Susan exchanged quick glances. They had no idea who he was, but decided to play along.

—Yes, it's us—Ethan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

The young man nodded, as if he already knew them well.

—Great. Hey, I’m hosting a party tonight. You guys should come. It’ll be at my place, nothing formal, just friends.

—Party?—Susan repeated, surprised.

—Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun—the young man responded before giving them more details and walking away with a smile.

When the young man disappeared from sight, Ethan turned to Susan with enthusiasm.

—This is perfect.

—Perfect?—Susan said, crossing her arms—Are you suggesting we go?

—Of course. When was the last time we went to a party with young people? All we do is attend boring adult gatherings. This could be an opportunity to experience something new.

Susan looked at him incredulously, but deep down, something in his words sparked her curiosity.

—Suppose I agree… But no acting like an idiot, Ethan.

—Deal!—he replied with a triumphant smile.

Meanwhile, Susan couldn’t help but wonder if this experience might be more than just a bad nightmare… Maybe, even, an opportunity to rediscover something lost in their relationship.

The night came, and Ethan and Susan, more nervous than excited, tried to pick the best clothes they could find in Alex and Joshua’s wardrobes. Ethan chose some tight dark jeans and a white shirt that was a little too snug, while Susan, uncomfortable, put on a sleeveless shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination.

—This is ridiculous—Susan said, adjusting her clothes in front of the mirror—Do young people really dress like this?

—Relax—Ethan replied, straightening his shirt collar—We’re doing this to fit in, remember?

With little money in their pockets, they decided to stop for a coffee before heading to the party. Sitting at a small table by the window, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. For the first time in years, they weren’t arguing.

—This is… strange—Susan commented, stirring her coffee.

—What’s strange?—Ethan asked, looking out the window.

—Us. Here, not fighting. As if… as if we were another couple.

Ethan smiled faintly.

—Maybe this change has something good after all.

Before Susan could respond, Ethan’s phone started ringing. It was Dylan.

—How’s everything going over there?—Ethan asked as Susan moved closer to listen.

—Fine... I think. Alex and Joshua are keeping it together, although it’s total chaos.—Dylan sighed on the other end of the line—Did you find the old woman?

—No—Susan responded with frustration—We followed the coordinates, but there was no sign of her.

—Well, at least you tried.

Ethan cleared his throat.

—By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.

—What?—Dylan exclaimed—What party? Whose?

—A guy from the gym invited us. We don’t know him, but he seemed insistent.—Ethan paused—Dylan, do you know who he is?

—No. Maybe he’s new in town or at the gym. Be careful.

They hung up shortly after, and Ethan and Susan finished their coffees before heading to the party.

The place was full of energy. Colorful lights blinked while music echoed in every corner. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting in small groups. Ethan and Susan looked at each other nervously before entering, trying to appear relaxed.

—Remember, act like we know them—Ethan whispered.

Inside, they recognized several people from the gym. Probably Alex and Joshua's friends. Susan tried to chat with a few people, but couldn’t fully connect, while Ethan helped himself to a drink at the table.

It was then that the guy who had invited them appeared. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a charismatic smile.

—Alex, Joshua, I’m glad you came—the young man said, shaking their hands—I’m Elijah, by the way.

—Nice to meet you, Elijah—Susan replied, trying to sound casual.

Elijah smiled in a peculiar way, as if he knew something more.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?—he asked with a tone that seemed both innocent and mocking.

Ethan felt something stir inside him. That phrase had been too specific.

—What do you mean?—Ethan asked, feigning disinterest.

Elijah shrugged, his smile barely visible.

—Nothing, just a way of saying. Enjoy the party.

As Elijah walked away, Ethan was left thinking. How could he know something? The idea that he might be connected to the old woman crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. However, something didn’t add up.

He decided to find Susan to talk about it, but at that moment, someone else approached him.

—Hey, Alex, wanna grab a drink?—a young man asked, calling Susan, or rather, Alex’s body.

Susan, unsuspecting, accepted the invitation and walked away, leaving Ethan alone.

Ethan sat at one of the tables, reflecting on what had just happened. He looked around, observing the other guests, but couldn’t get Elijah’s words out of his mind.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Susan came back. But what really snapped him out of his reverie was seeing her without a shirt, wearing a swimsuit she had found in the apartment.

—What the hell are you doing?—Sergio asked, alarmed.

Susan shrugged.

—Apparently, this is normal here. Besides, who cares? No one knows who we really are.

Ethan put a hand to his face, stifling a sigh. This night was going to be longer than he expected.

Susan, still animated by the festive atmosphere and clearly affected by the drinks, approached Ethan with a radiant smile.

—There’s a pool!—she said excitedly—I need a swim, and you do too.

—Susan, I think you've had enough to drink—Ethan responded cautiously, noticing the peculiar gleam in his wife’s eyes.

—Oh, come on! Don’t be boring.—Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pool.

Ethan, surprised by the gesture, felt a strange warmth rise to his face. It was something so simple, but it had been so long since he felt that spontaneous connection with Susan. Was he blushing?

When they reached the pool, the atmosphere was completely different: laughter, softer music, and a group of young people enjoying the water under the colorful lights. Susan, without a second thought, jumped into the water, while Sergio stood at the edge, watching her.

—Ethan, come on!—she shouted, splashing him playfully.

He sighed, finally giving in, and stepped into the water. However, just a few minutes later, Susan moved away again, leaving him alone.

Ethan got out of the pool, drying himself off while looking for Susan in the crowd. That’s when he noticed Elijah, standing near a table, looking at him with a smile that seemed more calculated than friendly.

—Hey, Joshua…—Elijah said, walking toward him—Sorry for what I said earlier, about “adjusting to the new.”

—No problem—Ethan replied, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe the apology—Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone.

But Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

—Wait, let me explain why I said that.

With a mix of suspicion and curiosity, Ethan decided to follow him. Elijah led him to a room downstairs and closed the door behind them.

—So, what’s this about?—Ethan asked, crossing his arms.

Elijah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he got closer, his eyes locked on Ethan’s.

—You know, Joshua... there’s something about you tonight. Something different.

Before Ethan could react, Elijah surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. Elijah’s lips met Ethan’s, and for a moment, Etnan was frozen. He had never kissed a man, nor had he ever imagined being in this situation. Why wasn’t he pulling away?

Finally, he reacted and pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding.

—What the hell are you doing?—he said, breathless, as he stepped back toward the door.

Elijah showed no remorse, just a mysterious smile.

—Maybe… Joshua isn’t as different as you think.

Without responding, Ethan hurriedly left the room, determined to find Susan.

When he finally found her, what he saw left him stunned. Susan, in Alex’s body, was standing close to a young woman, talking in a way that was far too familiar. The girl was laughing while Susan touched her arm, as if she were flirting.

Ethan furrowed his brow as he watched them both head upstairs.

—Susan! —he called, rushing after them.

Susan stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed look.

—What now?

—What are you doing? —Ethan demanded, trying to stay calm—. This is not the time to pretend to be someone else.

—Oh, please, Ethan —Susan replied, crossing her arms—. We're stuck in this absurd situation, what does it matter?

—It matters because we need to take care of each other and stick together. The best thing is that we leave now.

Susan glared at him, shaking her head.

—Do you always have to ruin everything? For once in my life, I just want to have fun.

Before Ethan could respond, Susan turned around and left with the girl.

Frustrated and angry, Ethan decided he’d had enough. He returned to the changing room, grabbed his clothes, and left the party without looking back.

Back at the apartment, Ethan locked himself in the small room he was now occupying, throwing himself onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He waited, phone in hand, for a call or message from Susan, but nothing came.

As he tried to calm himself, his mind drifted back to the kiss from Elijah.

Why didn’t I pull away sooner? he thought, bringing a hand to his lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but there was something about that moment… something that unsettled him.

—I’m not gay… —he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.

Still, he couldn’t ignore what he had felt. Was Joshua gay? The idea troubled him, but it also stirred a strange curiosity.

With conflicting thoughts and emotions, he closed his eyes, and eventually, exhaustion overtook him.

The sound of the alarm clock vibrated softly, and Ethan opened his eyes, hoping everything had returned to normal. But it hadn’t. He was still in Joshua’s body. He glanced at the clock: 11:15 a.m.

He got up sluggishly, running his hands over his face and walking toward the bathroom to do his morning routine. As he washed his hands, an unmistakable smell hit his nose: food. Who was cooking?

When he reached the kitchen, he found Susan, still in Alex’s body, preparing what looked like a balanced breakfast: eggs, avocado, oatmeal, and a protein shake.

—Good morning, “J-Machine”! —Susan said with a smile, using a nickname that seemed to belong to Alex for Joshua.

Ethan frowned at the use of the nickname but decided to ignore it.

—Good morning… —he replied as he sat down at the small kitchen table—. Do you feel alright after last night?

Susan shrugged.

—Yeah, nothing a shower and coffee can’t fix.

—Well, I wanted to talk about what happened at the party…

—About what? —Susan asked, not looking at him as she served a plate.

—About what you did —Ethan insisted—. You drank too much, flirted with a girl, and then left with her. What the hell were you thinking?

Susan briefly looked at him, then returned her attention to her phone, typing messages and smiling as though she wasn’t in the middle of a serious conversation.

—Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry. Do you want avocado or double oatmeal? —Susan said indifferently.

—Susan, listen to me! —Ethan exclaimed, tapping the table gently to get her attention.

Finally, she looked up, slightly irritated.

—What? What did I do wrong now?

—Everything! —Ethan replied with frustration—. You’ve been acting like this is all a game. Not just last night, but always. Even when we were in our original bodies.

Susan frowned, setting her phone aside.

—What do you mean?

—I mean you and I have been distant for years —Ethan confessed, his tone more serious—. But last night, while I was trying to take care of you in that body, I felt something… something I haven’t felt in years. That connection we had when we were younger.

Susan looked at him in disbelief, then let out a sarcastic laugh.

—Connection? Or are you confusing things? Are you gay now?

—What? —Ethan asked, surprised by the question.

—Yeah, because all of this sounds weird. You’re telling me you felt “something” for me while I’m in Alex’s body. What’s going on, Ethan? Are you falling in love with your friend son?

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately.

—It’s not that… —he murmured finally, averting his gaze—. It’s more complicated than that.

—More complicated? —Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hope this isn’t about the kiss with Elijah or something like that.

Ethan suddenly stood up, pushing the chair aside.

—You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I try to talk to you. You always avoid everything, even now that we’re not ourselves.

—Where are you going? —Susan shouted, raising her voice.

—Anywhere where I don’t have to deal with you —Ethan responded, leaving the kitchen and leaving Susan with an expression of confusion and anger.

As he walked toward his room, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Was Susan right? Was he confusing his emotions? Between Elijah’s kiss, Joshua’s body, and his accumulated frustration, nothing seemed to make sense.

Days passed in which Ethan and Susan barely spoke to each other. The resentment from breakfast still lingered, and each one had opted to focus on their own routines. Susan, in Alex's young and athletic body, had become the life of the gym; always surrounded by people, she generated glances and conversations wherever she went. Meanwhile, Ethan preferred to isolate himself in the apartment, playing video games and reflecting on what had happened at that party.

The image of Elijah continued to haunt his mind, especially the kiss they shared. Ethan felt confused, as if that experience had awakened something in him, something he still couldn't fully understand.

On the fifth day, finally, something changed. Tired of the awkward silence, Susan approached Ethan in the living room while he was playing.

—Can we talk? —she asked, in a softer tone than usual.

Ethan paused the game and looked at her, hesitating for a moment.

—I suppose so.

Susan sat next to him, settling into the couch.

—I want to apologize. Not just for what happened at the party, but… for everything. For how things have been between us, even before this strange exchange.

Ethan watched her, surprised by her sincerity.

—I’ve messed up too. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself… and, well, you saw what happened that night. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.

—No, you were right —Susan admitted—. I’ve always been the type to avoid things instead of facing them. But after all this… I think it’s time to change, for Dylan. Although now, technically, he’s our best friend.

They both chuckled lightly, easing some of the tension.

—For Dylan —Ethan said, raising his fist.

—For Dylan —Susan repeated, bumping her fist against Ethan's.

For a moment, silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something in the air, a connection they both felt but didn’t know how to express. Susan looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

—Can I ask you something? —she said.

—Sure.

—What happened with Elijah?

Ethan sighed and looked away.

—It was strange. I don’t know why he did it… but when he kissed me, I didn’t hate it.

Susan looked at him intently, processing his words.

—You didn’t hate it?

—No. In fact, I think… I liked it.

The atmosphere grew more intimate. Susan placed her hand on Ethan's, and he looked directly at her for the first time in days.

—Maybe all of this is a sign —Susan whispered—. A way to show us that we don’t have to cling to who we were before.

Ethan nodded, and before he could respond, Susan leaned in toward him. It was a soft kiss, filled with a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something new that neither of them had ever felt before.

What started as a kiss soon turned into something more. Their bodies, although not their original ones, seemed to fit in a way they had never imagined. They surrendered to the moment, leaving behind the doubts and conflicts that had separated them for so long.

Days later...

Life went on. They hadn’t returned to their original bodies, but it no longer seemed to matter. Ethan and Susan had decided to stop searching for the old woman and, instead, embrace this new opportunity to get to know each other from a completely different perspective.

Dylan, still on the cruise, was completely unaware of what had happened between them, but he would surely find out when he returned. In the meantime, Susan and Ethan found a new routine, learning to live with their new realities and with a relationship that, although unexpected, had given them a new perspective on what it meant to be partners, friends, and companions in this surreal experience that they now called life.

The end

[jockbroski34]

The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

[captainmalewriter]

Made to Order

Franco pulled up to the apartment building of his latest client. He parked his car along the street and sent his client a quick text letting him know he had arrived. Franco then pulled out a pair of earphones from the glove compartment, connected them to his phone’s jack port, and put them on. He then booted up a survey app. It greeted him with a light blue screen and a ‘Hello!’ in a British accent. 

“Let’s see what kind of guy this dude paid good money to bang…” Franco muttered to himself as he pulled up the list of responses from the survey he sent to his clients. He scrolled to the latest data entry and skimmed it over. A grin formed on his face as he read it. 

“Alright then! No time like the present, let’s get to work.”

He downloaded the data entry into his phone’s local storage and composed it into an audio file. Once it was ready, Franco pressed ‘play’ and leaned back in his seat as the makeshift music began to fill his ears. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind of any and all thoughts, allowing the music to submerge his mind and body with powerful subliminal messaging. 

Gender: Male. Age: 24. Height: 6’4” ft. Weight: 170 lbs. 

Franco groaned as a cold chill ran up his spine. As he grew taller and heavier, the muscles in his legs rapidly flexed and relaxed. 

“Ohhh… Fuckk man…”

Franco couldn’t help but massage his aching body as he began to physically transform. He became hyper-aware of how his body felt and moved, which made touching his sensitive skin with his warm hands all the more pleasurable as it gradually changed. Franco moved the car seat back, as he needed the extra space to accommodate his sudden growth spurt. He gained several inches of height and about 30 pounds until he matched the size his client had requested. 

Hair Color: Brown. Eye Color: Green. Facial Hair? Mustache only. Body Hair? Yes.

The next few details of Franco’s client’s request rang in his ear and reverberated throughout his body. He gripped the sides of his seat as he felt his body working overtime to pump out heavy quantities of hormones. He winced in pain as his dark brown eyes changed colors. They became lighter and lighter in hue until they were a brilliant shade of green that glimmered in the sunlight. 

Franco’s hair was next to transform. The straight, black hair on his head grew lighter and curlier until he had wavy, brown hair. The skin on Franco’s upper lip tingled and itched as the hair follicles began rapidly growing in. Franco let out a heavy moan as his mustache hairs kept growing and growing until he had a thick mustache that hung over his lips. Once he had the right mustache, his underarm hair began growing, too. Franco only had a light dusting of pit hair, but thanks to his strange audio files, he could grow well past his natural limits. His armpit hair grew longer and thicker until he had a jungle of brown pit hair in his underarms. His pit hair had become so long that it even peeked out when Franco had his arms down!

Ethnicity: Mexican. Language: Spanish, or English w/ Accent. 

Franco let out a sigh of relief as he heard the next three lines of the audio file. Thankfully, the next transformation would be more mental than physical, which gave Franco a chance to take a quick breather. 

He relaxed against the headrest as the audio file echoed inside his mind. The more Franco heard his client’s preferences, the more his psyche changed to match his request. Suddenly, Franco was no longer a middle aged man from Midwest U.S.A. but a young Mexican man who had only recently immigrated into the country. His mind became filled with all sorts of new knowledge surrounding his Mexican heritage and culture, such as the Spanish language. 

“Mmm… Que rico…” Franco purred sensually as his throat muscles broadened and his vocal cords thickened, granting him the heavy accent his client had requested. The audio file also gave him a deeper voice too. Although that detail was more for Franco’s personal enjoyment than anything else.

But despite his newfound knowledge, there was only one thing the newly transformed Franco desired: to fuck as many men as physically possible. There was nothing he loved more than seeing a man pressed down against a pillow as he railed them to the next Tuesday. Just the thought of a man’s bubble butt swallowing his dick was enough to make him start leaking.

Size: 7.5 inches. Breed: Dom top. Body odor: YES.

While Franco was busy relishing his new voice and fantasizing about his next bottom, the next line of the audio file played, triggering the final piece of the transformation. Franco threw his head back as the next wave of bodily sensations caught him off guard. He let out loud, guttural groans as his manhood grew obscenely erect until it filled in his underwear. Franco massaged his sensitive, throbbing member as it grew longer and fatter than what he originally had. Before he knew it, Franco’s new endowment ripped the fabric of his briefs. His dick sprang to life like it was just begging to be released and played with as soon as possible! 

Franco wrapped his hand around his new dick and gave himself a few strokes just to test out his new tool. As he did so, a rank smell began to fill his car. It was sweaty, smelly, and addicting. That scent was none other than his natural body odor but kicked up to 100%. With the windows rolled down, Franco was becoming hot-boxed off his own tantalizing smell. Not that it really bothered him, as he was too busy admiring the glorious sight of his new, hung cock standing at full mast with a healthy bush of thick pubes to complete the look.

A tap on the window interrupted Franco’s moment of self-admiration. He glanced over and saw his client watching him with hungry eyes and a hand stuffed down his pants. Franco smirked, then rolled down his window.

“Hola papacito. ¿Te gusto?” Franco flexed his arms and winked at his client. The man nodded vigorously like a dog begging for a juicy steak. Then, he took a heavy whiff of Franco’s potent body odor and sighed, satisfied. 

“I can’t wait any longer! C’mon, let’s get you inside!!”

Franco grinned. He loved the whiny sound of a man begging to get fucked. He tossed his phone and earphones to the side and followed his client up to his apartment, where he proceeded to show him the dom Mexican top he requested to fuck him hard and raw. Another man made to order, another man satisfied.

[derekhighwaytf]

Witches and Twinks

MONDAY

The small London restaurant’s dim light flickered against the wine glasses, casting soft Merlot shadows onto George and Adam’s lips, noses, the entirety of their smug, helpless faces. This should have been the perfect pairing.  They were both intellects, with high senses of self and a love for information (ie. control), and though they’d talked for nearly an hour at this point, the conversation felt more like a fencing match than the start of a beautiful new friendship—each word a parry, each retort a thrust. Adam, dressed in his sweater and khakis, leaned back in his chair with a faint smile, his tone sharp but measured for every measure George tried to fling upon him.

“As much as people romanticize magic or ‘karma,’ it’s all just bullish storytelling,” Adam said, swirling the last of his drink. “Yes, Shakespeare and Marlowe write about it, but even they understood that human intellect, not divine intervention, drives our fate. Julius Caesar—perfect example. ‘The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.’ The real power lies in reason and intellect.”

George, dressed more casually in his loose-fitting green shirt, met Adam’s judgey gaze with a bewitchingly bemused smile. “Shakespeare also believed in the supernatural,” he countered. “The witches in Macbeth didn’t rely on logic to mess with the characters. Magic, fate, karma—call it what you may, but it holds an inexplicable force over more than just imagination. You’d be surprised how much control you don’t have.”

Adam chuckled, leaning forward slightly, his confidence more than bordering on just arrogance. “Macbeth? The witches merely represent internal fears and ambition every man or woman has in themselves. You can interpret them as mystical, inexplicable forces if you must, but at the end of the day, it’s Lady Macbeth’s persuasion and greed that destroy her husband. Shakespeare knew that intellect was the ultimate weapon. Magic? That’s just an excuse for weak minds like yourself who can’t handle the complexity of the human condition.”

George’s smile twitched as if he found the power not to turn Adam into the jackass he’d been acting like right then and there. “You academics, always trying to boil everything down to logic. I think you’re missing the point of the supernatural entirely. It’s not always about intellect. There are forces beyond understanding, beyond your understanding,—forces that aren’t impressed by your degrees or how many times you’ve read Troilus and Cressida.”

“An underrated work, if I say so myself.”  Adam’s smirk deepened. “And yes, the mysterious ‘forces beyond understanding.’ Tell me, how do they rank next to a Ph.D. in Shakespeare? I’d be curious to know.”

George tilted his head and took a swig of his drink, his gaze softening in a way that made Adam’s need to seek scholarly validation seem hollow. “You think Shakespeare would’ve agreed with you?”

“I know he would’ve,” Adam replied, superiority painting his tone. “The entire premise of his greatest works is that humanity’s biggest downfall is ignorance, not the supernatural. He’d side with intellect.”

“Or maybe he’d side with me.” George leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “You don’t think Shakespeare had a little magic in him? Maybe even enough to change a man forever?”

Adam’s smile faltered slightly, a small crack in his polished confidence. “What are you getting at?”

George’s just giggled, something dark and knowing flashing behind them. “I’m saying that not everything in this world is logical, Adam. You’re sitting here, lecturing me about Shakespeare, as if your intellect puts you above magic or fate. But I could change your entire world with just a flick of my hand, and all that book knowledge would evaporate into thin air.”

Adam’s gulped, unsure whether to get up and run or call the waiter. “Magic doesn’t exist,” he scoffed. “This isn’t some fantasy. It’s reality. You want to impress me? Show me something real.”

Without hesitation, George raised his hand, a scarred palm outstretched, and without breaking eye contact, he waved it through the suddenly thickened air with an inexplicable grace. The motion was so sudden, almost imperceptible, but Adam’s reaction was immediate. His breath hitched, his confident posture writhing and wilting as his widened eyes fluttered in confusion. The polished veneer of intellectual superiority melted away as something unfamiliar and overpowering gripped him.

Suddenly, Adam found himself folded over the table, unable to look away from George. The irritation he’d felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a deep, floundering passion—something that made his heart race and his chest tighten. His thoughts scrambled, no longer sharp and clear but clouded, fogged by an overwhelming sense of need.

“I…” Adam stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t understand… what were we—?”

George shushed him, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “You’re not supposed to understand, love. That’s the point.”

Adam’s breath grew shallow, his pulse quickening as his gaze locked onto George, unable to break away. His mind, usually so sharp and critical, was a jumbled mess of scrambled eggs. Everything he knew, everything he prided himself on, suddenly felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered now was George—his voice, his presence, his timeless beauty.  George was Adam’s everything now.

“You’re…” Adam’s words trailed off as his hand reached across the table, trembling. “You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met.”  He swallowed his own tongue, choking on his own breath.  “Will you marry me?”

George’s smile widened, a quiet, knowing victory in his eyes. He leaned back, looking under the table, watching as Adam’s brain couldn’t catch up to his…heart.

“And just like that,” George whispered, “all your intellect can’t stop what you feel now, can it?”

Adam blinked, his face flushed with a mix of confusion and something else, something deeper. “No… I… I can’t stop it.” He swallowed hard, his voice small, vulnerable. “I don’t want to.” 

George’s eyes glittered with satisfaction. “Good,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “Now, why don’t we talk about something that really matters back at your place?”

Every part of his intellectual, collected self knew better than to let this menace into his home, but all Adam could do was nod at his newfound love’s commands. And how bad could it be?  All’s well that ends well, right?

Adam fumbled with the keys to his flat, his hands trembling with an erotic urgency he’d never known before. A man of his knowledge and tact would never sleep with a man so quickly, but alas, his once methodical mind, the same one that could cite King Lear on a whim, now reeled only with thoughts of George on his bed—George's lustful eyes, George’s sweet cock, George's very presence seemed to fill every emotional crevice of his being. His usual restraint, his prudent superiority, was gone, replaced by a consuming need to be filled by this cunning, enchanting strange.

They stumbled inside, the door locking shut behind them. “I’ve never…” Adam’s voice cracked, and he shook his head, words failing him. “I don’t know why, but I want you, I need you. Now.”

George’s lips curled into a soft smile, almost pitying. “Not yet, love. You’re tired.”

“No, I—” Adam’s horny existence began to protest, but before he could finish, George raised his hand and with a single flick of the wrist, Adam’s body crashed into a wave of heavy and irresistible drowsiness. His knees buckled slightly, and he stumbled backward onto his bed, the fatigue wrapping itself around him like a thick, suffocating blanket. His eyelids fluttered as the last bit of resistance left him, and in moments, he was fast asleep, still in the preppy clothes that once defined him.

George stepped forward, his eyes brooding as he stood over Adam's sleeping form. His fingers trailed lightly over Adam’s temple, tracing the outline of his brow. “You’ll thank me for this one day,” George murmured, though he knew Adam couldn’t hear. 

With that, George’s expression shifted from amusement to something far more dangerous. He moved to the center of the room, kneeling over, and began reciting words in Old English, his voice low and rhythmic, like a conjurer summoning something deep and ancient.

“This man doth dress in shorts of scanty seam,  

But two inches, nay more, could his cloth bear.  

All trousers, all pants, dare try to redeem,  

Will twist and turn, yet still they'll shorten there.”

As the words slipped out from George’s lips, the change began. Adam’s legs, still clad in his conservative khakis, twitched. The fabric shimmered like glitter, rippling unnaturally, as though it had come alive beneath him. Slowly, the pant legs began to pull and pull, retracting themselves upward inch by inch. The sturdy material warped and shrank, tightening suddenly as it rose. In moments, the khakis had transformed entirely into a pair of short, nay, outrageously short gym shorts—barely two inches of inseam, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

The fabric clung to Adam’s shivering thighs, exposing pale skin that had seemingly never seen the light of day. His knees, his nonexistent calves, everything that had been carefully covered up was now on display, with the hem of the shorts barely reaching the tops of his legs. He lay there, still sleeping, completely oblivious to the transformation.

George’s eyes gleamed as he watched his imagination solidify into reality, their bright, synthetic fabric snug against Adam’s skin. “Much better,” he whispered, stepping closer. But alas, he wasn’t done just yet.

“In tanks of muscled shape, his chest laid bare,  

Neckline to navel, each nipple shall show.  

Armholes so deep, their movement none can spare,  

In every stride, his shirt reveals more woe.”

Another shift rippled through Adam’s sleeping body, this time around his torso. The sweater he’d been wearing—the very picture of propriety—began to distort itself, the fibers unraveling at his collar. The neckline dipped lower, and lower, and lower still, until it stopped just above his flat belly button. The sleeves, too, warped, pulling up and away from his twig-like arms until they were nothing but gaping holes that left his ribcage completely exposed. The fabric thinned as the sleeves disappeared, leaving him in a muscle tank so revealing that his nipples couldn’t help but to peek through with every slight motion.

The soft knit of his sweater had become a thin, athletic material, stretched across his chest and shoulders, barely covering anything. His once modest outfit was now reduced to something shamelessly provocative, his entire upper body on display, his pasty white skin brushing against the air with every breath.

George admired his work, his fingers drumming lightly against his thigh as he took in Adam’s new look. “Perfect,” he murmured. And yet, there was still more to be done.

“In high shoe laced, his socks pulled crisp and white,  

A chain of gold doth glisten 'round his neck,  

Beneath it all, a jock to fit him tight,  

No other cloth for him shall fate select.”

Once again, for the final time tonight, the changes swept through Adam’s cold, lifeless body, this time starting at his feet. His Sperry boat shoes dissolved, giving way to a pair of bright white Nike hi-tops, their thick laces tied into the most perfect bows for the treadmill. The socks that appeared around his ankles pulled up snugly, reaching mid-calf, their crisp whiteness almost blending to the cream of his skin.

Next, the thinnest, most douchiest gold chain materialized itself around his bony neck, resting just above his exposed collarbone. The delicate glint of the necklace caught the light, its subtle flash at odds with the rest of his now athletic ensemble. Finally, the transformation moved beneath his shorts. His boxers melted away, replaced by a tight-fitting jockstrap that cupped him in place, offering minimal coverage and the most maximum exposure, almost as if he were a twink stripper on the Miami shore instead of the next youngest professor at Yale.

George stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Adam, once a picture of scholarly decorum, now lay before him clad in nothing but slutty gym shorts, a muscle tank that exposed far more than Adam would ever desire, hi-top sneakers, a thin gold chain, and the most illuminating jockstrap. It was absurd, provocative—and exactly as George had imagined.

For the final touch, George recited the couplet, his voice soft but firm:

“Forever cursed, his garments shall remain,  

In shorts, in tanks, he'll live his life in vain.”

With those words, the spell was sealed. No matter what Adam touched, no matter how hard he tried, every article of clothing would morph into this same, revealing outfit. George smiled, satisfied, and took a seat in the armchair across from Adam. He watched him for a moment, sleeping so peacefully despite the irreversible change that had just taken place.

But as the night crept on, George allowed himself to sleep too, a smirk still resting on his lips as he lied next to his creation. Tomorrow, when Adam awoke and his spell of infatuation wore off, George knew that’s when the real fun would begin.

TUESDAY

“AHHHH!”  Adam woke up, his heart racing as the morning light shone onto his hungover face. His body felt strange, but his mind was far more disturbed. The events of the previous night seemed fragmented, cloudy—George, the strange pull, the overwhelming desire, none of it made sense. He sat up in his sheets, his eyes darting around the room, his chest heaving.

He looked beside himself and dear God, there he was. George was still asleep, draped casually across the sheets, his face peaceful in the way that seemed entirely at odds with the havoc he’d wreaked. Adam’s stomach turned. I slept with him, Adam thought, his mind spinning like a top. He clenched his fists in the sheets, his face flushed with shame. How had he let this happen? His mind, so methodical and proud, had completely failed him and allowed him to degrade himself for some vampiric twink.

Panic gripped him as he stood from the bed, only to stop mid-step when he realized a breeze he’d never felt before. His legs were bare, his thighs on full display. It was then that he noticed his reflection in the mirror across the room. His mouth fell open in shock. Gone were his conservative khakis and sweater. In their place, he wore nothing but a pair of impossibly short gym shorts, a muscle tank that exposed his chest and nipples, white socks pulled up to his calves, and, what on earth, a jockstrap?  He looked at himself again and thought he looked like a child dressing up in his musclehead uncle’s clothes.

He quickly shuffled to his dresser, desperate to change out of this ridiculous, humiliating outfit before George woke up. He rifled through his drawers and pulled out a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt, but as soon as his fingers touched them, they shimmered and twisted, morphing into the same slutty gym shorts and revealing muscle tank that now clung to his body. Adam's eyes widened in horror. He threw the clothes aside and reached for another pair, only for the same thing to happen. Every single item he touched—his jeans, his sweaters, even a pair of pajamas—all transformed into the same jock-bro ensemble.

“What the fuck?” Adam muttered under his breath, the frustration building. His heart pounded as he rifled through his now everchanging closet, grabbing hangers and tossing clothes aside in a frantic attempt to find something—anything—that wouldn’t transform. But everything he touched met the same fate, shrinking and twisting into the cursed, douchebag outfit.

Behind him, he heard a soft laugh.

George finally awoke, sitting up in bed, arms crossed, a lazy smirk plastered on his face. “Having trouble love?”

Adam spun around, his face flushed with fury. “What the hell is this?” He gestured to his outfit, his voice rising. “What did you do to me?”

George laughed again, softer this time, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “What’s wrong? What happened to the complexity of the human consciousness or whatever bullshit you were spewing last night?”

“Magic?!” Adam’s voice cracked with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Is that what you’re blaming this on?  You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but I am, love.”  George stood, casually pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. “Oh, come on. Don’t you like your new look? I think it suits you.” He took a step closer, his smirk growing wider. “And honestly, after all that big talk, I would’ve thought you’d handle a little transformation with more grace.”

Adam clenched his fists, his voice shaking with rage. “This isn’t funny, George! Somehow you’ve made me look like some jock-bro idiot. What the hell am I supposed to do like this? Just tell me what you did!”

But George’s expression darkened. “You still don’t get it, do you?” His voice dropped, the playful tone gone. “You can’t just insult me, mock what I believe, and expect no consequences.” He took another step forward, his brooding eyes locking with Adam’s. “You wanted to prove your intellect was above everything—above magic, above fate. But you’ve proven nothing except how small your mind really is.”

“Small?!” Adam barked. “The only thing small here is you, you psychopathic, egotistical—”

But before Adam could finish, George’s pupils flashed with anger. He raised his hand, the air around him seeming to hum with energy. “Careful what you say next,” George warned. “Or you might not like what comes next.”

Adam’s lips parted, the insult on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated. His pride warred with his common sense, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You’re nothing but a dumb fucking slut."

Suddenly, quiet filled the room as the words escaped Adam’s quivering lip, but once he got himself collected, George’s voice rang out in outrage, calm, yet oh-so commanding.

“This man shall bear a curse of feet most foul,  

With stench of sweat, his socks shall rot and tear.  

His pits shall reek, his skin a pungent scowl,  

Athlete’s rot shall mar each inch laid bare.”

Adam barely had time to register what George had said before a horrifying sensation crept up from his feet. He looked down, his newly acquired hi-tops feeling unnaturally damp. His socks, once crisp and white, were now soaked with sweat and dirt, clinging to his wretched skin. He wrinkled his nose at the sudden, overwhelming odor that wafted up from his shoes. It was rancid—like rotting toe cheese mixed with mildew and and an ocean’s worth of sweat. His feet itched uncontrollably, the skin burning as if something was crawling beneath it.

At the same time, his armpits began to burn and sting. He reached up instinctively, only to pull his hand back in disgust. His armpits were slick with a salty wetness, and the stench hit him like a punch to the gut—thick, sour, and overwhelming. It was as if he hadn’t showered in weeks, months even. His face flushed with embarrassment as the realization set in: his body reeked. His feet, his armpits—every part of him was drenched in sweat and stench, a walking cloud of filth.

“What the—?” Adam staggered back, staring at George in disbelief. “What did you—?”

But George wasn’t finished. He raised his hand again, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction.

“This man shall itch where modesty once laid,  

His bush shall grow, his groin a scratching hell.  

He’ll fight in vain to stop his hands’ parade,  

As arse and crotch demand his touch as well.”

And just like that, a sharp itch exploded itself across Adam’s groin, so intense that he doubled over in shock. His fingers flew to his waistband, instinctively trying to scratch the burning sensation beneath his jockstrap. The itch was so unbearable, spreading across his groin and into his backside, radiating like fire near his hole. No matter how hard he tried to resist, his hands were drawn to the sensation, scratching furiously, desperate for relief.

But there was none. The more he scratched, the worse it got. His fingers dug into the fabric of his shorts, and soon, he was practically clawing at himself, unable to stop. His face flushed red with embarrassment. The itch was maddening, and it didn’t care about decorum or propriety. Weak, he was scratching himself in front of George, his hands running over his crotch and ass, completely helpless against the overwhelming need for relief.

“Stop this,” Adam gasped, his voice shaking as he continued to scratch. “Please, stop.”

But George only smirked, his voice calm as he began the next quatrain.

“Each hour, his body shall release its gas,  

With burps and farts to shake the very air.  

No matter where he goes, no lad or lass  

Will dare endure the odors he’ll declare.”

Before Adam could breath in, his stomach rumbled violently. His eyes widened in horror as his body took over, an enormous belch ripping from his throat, so loud it echoed through the tiny studio. A second later, a foul-smelling fart exploded from him like a cloud, the stink so pungent it nearly knocked him back. 

“No—” Adam gasped, but his body betrayed him again. Another belch, followed by another fart and another burp, and yet another fart. The stench filled the room, thick and nauseating. His face turned crimson as he stumbled back, his hands flying to his mouth as if he could stop the sounds from escaping, but it was no use. Every few seconds, another belch, another fart, the air around him quickly becoming unbreathable.

George watched, amused, as Adam staggered, his eyes wide with humiliation. He raised his hand one last time, his voice soft and final.

“This man of filth, of shame, of rank decay,  

Shall live apart from grace, in filth to stay.”

With that, George turned toward the door, leaving Adam in the haze of his own stench, his body a twisted caricature of everything he once prided himself on. The smell of his own filth lingered in the air, heavy and oppressive, but it was the itching, the relentless belching, and the horrible farts that kept him anchored to the spot. His whole body was a battlefield of sensations he couldn’t control. His intellect, once his greatest weapon, felt utterly useless now.

He staggered toward the bathroom, desperate to scrub away the grime of his new persona. He turned on the shower, hoping the water would wash away the stench and the shame. But as soon as the water hit his body, it did nothing. The sweat, the reek from his armpits and feet, even the itch in his groin—it was all still there, clinging to him like a second skin.

After multiple futile attempts, he stared at his reflection in the fogged mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed from scratching and embarrassment. His once carefully maintained hair was now matted with sweat, and his body, encased in the ridiculous bro-ey outfit, made him look more like a lazy frat boy than a Ph.D. candidate.

Adam threw on a hoodie, hoping it might cover up some of the smell, and pulled the hood over his head, trying to obscure himself. He couldn’t just stay home. He had a meeting with his professor that afternoon—he had to go. He had to maintain some semblance of normalcy, even though nothing about this felt normal.

As he left the apartment, he became acutely aware of the looks he was getting from people on the street. Some wrinkled their noses, others shot him a glance before quickly looking away. His footsteps echoed in his ears, punctuated by the sound of another loud fart escaping him, followed by a huge, gut-shaking belch. The smell followed him like a shadow, and the itch in his groin was impossible to ignore. He scratched absentmindedly, wincing as he did, but the relief only lasted a second before the itch came back with renewed intensity.

The closer he got to campus, the more nervous he became. His body wouldn’t stop betraying him—every few steps, another belch, another fart, another desperate scratch of his groin and butt. He could feel the sweat pooling beneath his shirt, the odor rising with it. He pulled his hood tighter over his head, hoping to disappear into himself, but nothing could hide what was happening to him.

By the time he reached his professor’s office, he was a mess of nerves. He stood outside the door, trying to compose himself. You can do this, he thought, even as his body itched and groaned in protest. But the second he stepped inside, the look on his professor’s face told him everything.

“Adam,” Professor Wilson said, his voice hesitant as he looked up from his desk. His nose wrinkled almost immediately, and Adam saw him discreetly glance toward the window as if considering opening it for fresh air. “Are… are you feeling alright?”

Adam swallowed hard. “I—I’m fine,” he lied, but even as the words left his mouth, another loud belch erupted from his throat, followed by the unmistakable sound of another fart. The air around him was thick with the stench, and he could see the professor’s face go pale with disgust.

Professor Wilson stood abruptly. “Perhaps we should reschedule,” he said, clearly trying to hold back his revulsion. “It seems like you’re not… in the best condition today.”

“I can explain—” Adam started, but even as he spoke, his hands betrayed him again, scratching furiously at his groin and rear, the itch unbearable. He tried to stop, tried to keep himself composed, but his body had other ideas. Another belch, another fart, each more embarrassing than the last. The smell in the room was unbearable, and Professor Wilson’s eyes were wide with a mix of pity and horror.

“Adam, I think it’s best if you go home and take care of… whatever this is,” Professor Wilson said, his voice tight with discomfort. “We’ll discuss your dissertation another time.”

Adam’s face burned with shame as he nodded stiffly, his throat too tight to speak. He turned and left the office, another loud fart escaping him as he hurried down the hallway. The students he passed gave him wide-eyed stares, some covering their noses, others whispering and laughing as he stumbled past them. Each new step felt heavier, the weight of the day pressing down on him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the nightmare his life had become.

By the time he could finally make it back to his apartment, he was utterly defeated. His body reeked, the itch in his groin had only gotten worse, and his belly was constantly churning with the pressure of more belches and farts waiting to erupt. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. The day had been a disaster—there was no way he could continue like this.

As the evening settled in, Adam lay there, his mind racing even as his body continued to betray him. He had to find George. He had to fix this. There was no other option.

He couldn’t live like this—he couldn’t endure the stares, the laughter, the humiliation. His career, his entire life, was at stake. With each itch, each stench, each belch and fart, he felt his old self slipping further away, and he was terrified of what he would become if this continued.

With a heavy sigh, Adam closed his eyes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would find George and demand that he fix what he’d done. Tomorrow, he would get his life back.

WEDNESDAY

Adam sat desperate against his pillow and his headboard, his phone clutched in his hand, staring down at the screen with a sense of failure. The stench from his armpits, the itching in his groin, the endless belches and farts—everything had become so utterly unbearable. The reflection he caught in the mirror was still that of the cursed gym rat, his outfit vulgar and ridiculous against his scrawny body, the stink so thick it began to cling to the walls of his flat.

He began typing. His fingers trembled slightly as they tapped against the glass, carefully crafting the text to George. His pride screamed against it, but he was out of options. He couldn’t live like this, not anymore.

"Hey George,  

I’ve been thinking a lot…and I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I was so out of line, and I didn’t mean to insult you or dismiss what you believe. I get it now—there are things beyond intellect, beyond control, and…beyond me.  I was wrong, and you were right. There.  I should’ve believed in magic instead of trying to mock it. Please, is there anything I can do to fix this? I don’t want to keep living like this, I just can’t."

He hesitated for a moment before hitting send, his stomach twisting into a knot of hope and dread. Adam tossed the phone onto his bed and laid back, staring at the ceiling as the minutes stretched into hours. Every itch, every foul-smelling fart reminded him of his new reality. He tried to distract himself—cleaning the apartment, watching plays on Youtube, attempting to focus on some new Shakespearean analysis—but nothing worked. The stench hung in the air like a punishment, stuck to him no matter what.

By midday, Adam’s hope had started to wither into nothingness. George wasn’t going to respond. He probably didn’t even care. Maybe this was it—maybe this revolting, humiliating state was his life now. He sighed, dragging his hands through his sweaty hair, glancing toward his phone again. Still nothing. He swallowed the lump in his throat and paced around room, fidgeting with his bro clothes that clung to his now lean body like a cruel joke. 

Bzzzz.

Adam rushed to his phone, his heart thudding against his chest as he unlocked the screen. A message from George appeared, and his breath caught.

“Curses can’t be undone, love.”

Adam’s face flushed with frustration. His jaw clenched as he stared at the words. All of that groveling, all of that begging, and this was the response? He typed furiously, his anger bubbling to the surface, but before he could send anything back, another message appeared.

“But I must admit.  I didn’t think you would actually say that.  Honestly, I really appreciate the apology. Why don’t call it even, huh?  Why don’t I give you a gift?”

Adam blinked at the screen, his anger slowly dissipating into confusion. A gift? What kind of twisted gift could George possibly mean? If it was anything like the last, then he could keep it. But before he could protest, another message filled the screen.

“His arms, like oaks, doth stretch from end to end,  

With strength to lift the world or crush its weight.  

Their power matched with beauty none can fend,  

Two mounds so vast as sunset’s final state.”

As Adam read the words, he felt a sudden warmth spread through his arms. Not again, he thought, but then his eyes darted down in alarm as his previously thin, lanky arms twitched, then bulged. He watched, wide-eyed, as his biceps began to swell, the muscles rippling and bubbling beneath his skin. The skin of his arms grew tight, barely able to contain the massive growth. His once scrawny arms were transforming into huge, muscular limbs—so strong, they looked like they could crush stone with a single flick.

He flexed experimentally, his new muscles hardening themselves like marble. His biceps were enormous, so large they cast a shadow on his bony torso. He stared in disbelief at his own body, feeling an unfamiliar surge of power rush through him.

His phone buzzed again, another text:

“His chest, like breasts of Venus round and great,  

Two orbs of strength that push against the day.  

Each pect’ral it’s own ball upon a beach,  

So full, so firm, none dare to turn away.”

Adam’s gaze shifted down towards his chest, and once again, he felt the same warm, tingling sensation spread across his torso as he began to feel an unnerving top heaviness. His pecs swelled, pushing against the straps of his tank top until the neckline stretched even lower than before. His chest ballooned outward, each pec growing into a massive, rounded mound of muscle, firm and solid beneath his skin. His nipples presented so visibly, his chest now so large it jutted forward, casting a shadow over his barren stomach.

The weight of his new pecs made him feel even more powerful, even more in control. He couldn’t stop staring, watching the way his body filled out, how his once-flat chest had been replaced by two enormous mounds of muscle that jiggled involuntary with every breath. They were so big, so round, they almost looked unnatural—but Adam loved it nonetheless.

Another text…

“His stomach, carved like canyons deep and wide,  

Each groove a trench, each line a valley low.  

His legs, like trunks of ancient oaks abide,  

With strength to stand through storm and sun and snow.”

Adam’s abdomen contracted, the sensation rippling through his core. He watched as the muscles on his stomach began to etch themselves into deep, chiseled grooves. His once-flat belly was now an eight-pack, every ridge and line so pronounced it looked like his abs had been carved out of granite. His waist boxed in, accentuating the sheer mass of his chest above and the powerful definition below.

His legs were next. His thighs bulged beneath his gym shorts, the muscles expanding rapidly, filling out with every second. His calves thickened into pillars of strength, his quads growing into enormous slabs of meat that made his legs look like logs. He was massive now, his entire body transformed into something that looked like it had been sculpted by the god Zeus himself.

The final couplet arrived, and as Adam read the words, he felt the last part of the transformation taking hold:

A man’s man, dominant, in every stride,  

With looks that none, not man nor beast, can hide.”

As Adam gazed into the mirror, his eyes widened in awe. His reflection had changed entirely. He stood there, towering, his body brimming with strength and raw masculinity, as if he’d eaten raw eggs every day of his life since he was ten. His jawline was sharper, his posture more commanding, and the way he looked—it was undeniable. He was an alpha now.  He demanded attention, respect, and desire. The smell, the stink that had once plagued him—it didn’t matter. His overwhelming physicality eclipsed all of it.

Adam grinned, a wave of confidence crashing over him. This was power. This was control. He grabbed a jacket, still feeling the massive stretch of his biceps as he slipped it over his shoulders, and headed out.

At the nearest gay bar, the moment Adam walked in, all eyes were on him. His broad shoulders and massive arms filled out his jacket in ways that left little to the imagination. He could see heads turning, guys sneaking glances at his hulking frame, his thick pecs nearly busting through his shirt. He walked up to the bar, and within seconds, a couple of older men sidled up to him, their eyes wide with interest.

One of them, a trucker looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and the crustiest mustache, leaned in, his voice low. “You’re looking good, boy. Smell like man too.  Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

Adam wrinkled his nose slightly. The man was old, rotund, and ugly.  He could do better, much better. “No thanks, ..sir,” Adam replied coldly, his voice deeper and more commanding than he remembered. The man’s face fell slightly, but Adam didn’t care. He was too busy reveling in the attention, in the way every guy in the bar seemed to be watching him, wanting his body.

As the night wore on, more and more guys approached, trying their luck with him. But none of them were good enough for Adam. He was an alpha now—he could have anyone he wanted, and the more he held out, the more they wanted.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, he would go see George again.  If George can do this for him.  There’s no telling what else he could get out of the witchy twink.

THURSDAY

Adam took the tube immediately once he awoke and stood in front of George’s door, the weight of his muscular new form making him feel absolutely invincible. His inflated biceps and thick chest on the reflective glass of the door fed his ever growing ego, but deep down, he couldn’t help but shake this nagging doubt. George had done this to him—made him into a walking Marvel superhero, sculpted from stone, pure lust, and raw, unadulterated power. But was it enough? No, Adam wanted more. Needed more.

He knocked, his hairy knuckles bristling past the door handle. The first time he’d sought George, he’d dismissed the supernatural as nonsense. Now, with the power of George’s magic coursing through his sculpted body, Adam was ready to claim yet another piece of it. But this time, he knew he had to play his cards just a tad bit differently.

The door creaked open, and there stood George, his face shifting from surprise to a soft, almost suspicious smile. “Adam,” George purred. “Back so soon?”

Adam leaned against the doorframe, his massive arms bulging as he flexed them just enough to show off the strength George had given him. “Missed me?”

George raised an eyebrow, but his gaze lingered on Adam’s tits, those enormous pecs straining against the thin straps of his bro-ish muscle tank. There was a flicker of something in George’s eyes—desire, interest, maybe even a sliver of actual emotion, something he hadn’t felt in centuries. Adam noticed, and he played into it, taking a step closer, his voice low and smooth.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Adam said, his hand grazing George’s arm. “About I’ve been thinking about just how much I owe you for this body, for… everything.”

George tilted his head, still guarded. “And what exactly do you want this time, Adam?”

“I don’t want anything,” Adam replied, his lips curling into a seductive smile. “Just you.”

He moved closer, his muscular frame dwarfing George’s, his presence overwhelming in the cramped air of the doorway. George hesitated for a moment, but Adam’s hand slipped to the nape of George’s neck, pulling him in with surprising gentleness. Their lips met, slowly melding together, turning into something hotter, far more dangerous. Adam’s thinly veiled cock rubbed against George’s abs as his walls came crumbling down, and for the first time, Adam felt the subtle shift in power—he had George, really had him.

The day blurred into heated moments, their bodies tangled in sheets and sweat. Adam was relentless, his new body a weapon of seduction, and George, for all his magic, succumbed to the raw physicality of it. They moved together with an intensity that neither had expected, sucking, fucking, and by the time they lay spent, George was quiet, staring at Adam with something akin to affection.

Adam, however, was already thinking ahead. He turned to George, still catching his breath. “You’ve got power, George. Magic.”

George giggled with a flush.  “You’re just saying that.”

But Adam turned cold.  “I want more of it.”

George’s face darkened. “What exactly are you asking for, Adam?”

Adam grinned, his arrogance returning now that the heat of the moment had passed. “Whatever gift you think I deserve. You’ve given me all this, how can I doubt your judgment, my sweet baby.  My love.  I’ll leave it up to you. Surprise me.”

George’s expression shifted from curiosity to something more guarded, his eyes narrowing as he watched Adam’s smug face. “Anything I want, huh?”

Adam shrugged, confidence oozing from every pore. “I trust you.”

George sat up, his fingers trailing along Adam’s broad chest as if considering his next move. For a long moment, he said nothing, then with a quiet, deceptive murmur, he recited:

"A man so well endowed, his length shall grow,  

Eight inches, thick as snake in fabric’s cage,  

His buttocks firm, a perch for all to show,  

A bubble round to seat him firm with age."

Adam’s goosebumped body tingled immediately, the familiar warmth of transformation spreading through his lower regions. He let out a low, grunty moan as the sensation deepened, his cock thickening and lengthening under his teeny tiny shorts. Diameter growing as his ass tightened, the muscles swelling into perfect, round bubbles that pushed him slightly upward in the bed. He grinned, looking down at himself, clearly satisfied with George’s work.

“That’s more like it,” Adam murmured, his hands roaming over his newly enhanced assets. The heft of his cock felt incredible, and his ass, firm and plump, made him sit taller, more confidently. “I can’t wait to use this out in SoHo.”  He turned to George, expecting more praise, more lust, but George’s face remained unreadable.

Then, George’s voice darkened, and he continued the sonnet.

"But this thick snake shall rise and never fall,  

In constant stand, no peace, no quiet still.  

His rounded arse shall breathe and stretch at call,  

Each muscle loose, no seat can meet its will."

Adam’s smile faltered, confusion flickering in his eyes. The change happened so quickly—his cock, now a monstrous length, hardened immediately, pushing insistently against the fabric of his gym shorts. It throbbed, always erect, always at attention, with no sense of relief. He shifted uncomfortably as his ass, once firm and perfect, started to feel strangely loose towards the center. It twitched and clenched on its own, the muscles stretching and relaxing without his control, as if it was becoming an underground tunnel.

“Wait, what the—?” Adam stammered, sitting up, his hand moving to adjust his cock, but it wouldn’t soften. His asshole kept opening with a subtle, almost breathing sensation that made him feel unstable, as if he could fit a tube station in there.

George smirked, watching the realization dawn on Adam’s face. “Not quite what you expected, is it?”

Adam’s panic grew as he tried to stand, but the constant, unrelenting erection made every step uncomfortable. His ass moved with a will of its own, making it impossible for him to walk without awkwardly adjusting himself.

“Stop this,” Adam demanded, his voice sharp with fear. “Fix it!”

But George continued, his voice soft, but with a cutting edge:

"For every man he sees and thinks of thus,  

A need shall spark, his body shall obey.  

Two seconds more, his lips will ask with trust,  

And if they say ‘yes,’ he cannot turn away."

Adam’s eyes widened in horror as the words sank in. The change was immediate. His mind, sharp and calculating, suddenly snapped. The second he looked at George, an overwhelming desire flooded him. He took a step forward, his voice trembling.

“George, I—” He swallowed, trying to fight the words that wanted to spill out, but they escaped anyway. “I want you… I need you. Please, let’s do it again.”

George’s smirk faded into something almost pitying as he stepped back, shaking his head. “No.”

Adam blinked, the refusal shocking him, but the need remained. His body trembled with desire, the thought of George sending his blood rushing. He reached out, desperate. “Please, I can’t—”

But George stood firm. “This is what you wanted, Adam. You wanted the magic. Now you’ve got it.”

Adam’s desperation turned into panic, the uncontrollable lust gnawing at him as he realized what had happened. “Please, you have to stop this! I can’t live like this!”

George’s eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. “If you never see me again, I can never curse you again. Plain and simple.”

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the curse pressing down on him. He had no choice. He nodded stiffly, his voice shaking. “Fine.”

Without another word, he fled the apartment, the constant throbbing in his pants making every step unbearable, as if he were walking with a third leg. His ass twitched, loose and awkward, making him shift with every movement. He tried to keep his eyes down, avoid seeing anyone, avoid thinking about anyone. But as he neared his flat, he saw him—the old, fat man from the bar, the one with the crusty mustache he’d brushed off so easily the night before.

Adam’s eyes locked onto him, and the thought, just two seconds, crossed his mind. The change was instant.

“Hey,” Adam called out, already relieving his itchy erection, his voice unabashed from shame. “You wanna fuck me?”

The man’s eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do.  Let’s go boy”

Before Adam could stop himself, he moved closer, his body betraying him. They ended up in Adam’s flat, the humiliation sinking deeper as he stripped down, his body moving on its own, giving in to the fat man’s cock. Every moment was pleasure, the curse forcing him to enjoy it all. As the man’s fingers roamed into his hole, Adam’s cock stood painfully erect, his ass twitching and clenching, unable to resist the pleasure.

By the time it was over, Adam lay in bed, the old man’s snores filling the room. He stared at the ceiling, the weight of his actions crushing him. He hated it. He hated the curse, hated George, hated himself. But as he thought back to the encounter, a sickening sense of satisfaction settled in his chest.

Maybe this was who he was now. He’d become the horny, bro-ish slut he’d always railed against.

But hey, at least he still had his wits about him.

“You wanna go again,” he asked the sleeping bear.

He awoke.  “Fuck yeah I do.”

FRIDAY

Adam groaned, his body still humming from the night before, shifting slightly in his bed, the weight of his smelly, bulging muscles pressing against the mattress in ways that felt less and less alien. The stench of sweat and sex clung to the sheets like a cruel reminder, but what gave him the most relief was that the old mustached bear, the fat man who had taken him, or he’d taken in, last night, was gone, leaving Adam with what few shreds of dignity he had left. For but a brief moment, Adam felt a glimmer of his old smart self, something buried deep beneath the layers of this cursed, grotesque transformation.

He brought himself up slowly, running a hand through his cum-soaked, dampened hair, trying to ignore the disgusting aire of musk that followed him everywhere. The night’s events replayed slowly in his mind, and each moment sent waves of heat rolling through him. He was disgusted with himself, yet somehow also satisfied. As much as he wanted to shake off the craziness of last night, something darker tugged within him—or instead, someone.  Someone he couldn't control.

George.

The mere thought of him, that witchy smile, made Adam's heart pump and race. He tried to resist it, clenching his fists as he paced around his tiny studio. No. He wouldn’t give in. Not again. But the more he fought it, the stronger the curse became. His cock twitched in his shorts, eternally hardening more and more, his mind clouded with an overwhelming desire as he let out a massive burp. It was George. He needed George. He needed to see him, fuck him, even if it meant more and more of these horrible, disfiguring changes.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Adam was out the door, heading toward George’s place. His brain screamed at him to turn back, to stop this madness, but his feet kept moving, each step heavier with the weight of inevitability. He arrived at George’s door, his heart pounding so hard it echoed in his ears. Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked.

The door creaked open, and there stood George, the same knowing smile curling on his lips, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Back so soon?” George asked, voice dripping with mockery.

Adam swallowed, his throat tight. His body screamed with need, the throbbing in his pants unbearable. “I… I need to fuck you,” he stammered, the words barely making it out. His muscles tensed, his breath shallow. “Please, George. I just want to stick my-”

“No.” George’s tone was sharp, cold. “I warned you, Adam.”

Adam froze, his heart sinking. Panic flooded his chest. “No, wait, I… I—” He turned to flee, the humiliation too much to bear, but George’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“You’re not going anywhere,” George said softly, a cruel edge to his voice. With a flick of his hand, Adam’s body locked in place, muscles freezing as though they were held by invisible chains. Adam’s eyes widened in fear as George circled him like a predator, his gaze sweeping up and down Adam’s massive form.

“You could’ve been so wonderful, Adam,” George whispered, his fingers trailing across Adam’s rigid biceps. “If only you weren’t so obsessed with being better than everyone else.” George stopped in front of him, his eyes gleaming. “But don’t worry. I’m going to fix that.”

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, his giant mind racing with panic. He tried to move, to speak, but nothing worked. He was trapped, helpless, his body at George’s mercy. And then, George began to recite.

“This man, with wit so sharp, shall find it dull,

His tongue to fail at words with length and grace.

In single beats, his speech doth make him full,

No thought can break the barrier of his face.”

Adam’s head buzzed as George’s words sank into his soul. He tried to protest, to say something, anything, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out were simple, one-syllable words, clumsy and slow like the dumbass he used to make fun of, the one he was about to become. “Wh-what… you… do…?” he stammered, struggling through each word. His brain felt like it was being squeezed, cell by cell, every attempt to say something even somewhat intelligent or complex was met with a foggy, impenetrable wall.

“No… more…” he managed, but even that felt like a battle. His tongue stumbled within his mouth, his speech slurring as the magic took further hold. Adam’s face twisted in frustration, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even think of a word longer than one syllable. His mind was trapped in this humiliating simplicity, a far cry from the sharp intellect he once wielded.

George smiled, watching the struggle unfold with sadistic delight. “You’re already looking more like yourself, love.” He continued, his voice low and melodic.

“A jaw so slack, it barely knows its place,

His mouth hangs wide, flies wander through the door.

With 'duh' his mind reflects upon his face,

A smile so dumb, he trusts each word, what's more.”

As the next words spread themselves throughout the air and landed onto Adam’s face, he felt his jaw slacken into a relaxed position, the muscles in his face going completely limp. His mouth hung open, agape, his lips parting into a dumb, vacant expression. He could feel the cold air tickling his teeth as a small, stupid smile crept onto his face. He tried to close his mouth, to tighten his jaw, but it wouldn’t obey him. No matter how hard he tried, it remained slack, open, like a door left ajar.

Flies buzzed around, and before he knew it, one flitted into his mouth. He barely registered it, too dazed, too numb to even care. His face felt frozen in that idiotic grin, his eyes glazed over. Worse yet, every word George said sounded so… true. Every part of him wanted to believe whatever George told him, his gullibility sinking deep into his bones.

Adam’s mind screamed at him to resist, to hold onto what was left of his pride, but that part of him was fading fast. His lips, still curled in a stupid smile, parted again. “Uh… yeah, right…” he muttered, barely able to form coherent thoughts. His voice sounded thick and dopey, like it belonged to someone else, someone who couldn’t even spell Shakespear.

George’s voice softened, almost tender. “See, isn’t that easier? No more thinking, no more overcomplicating things. Just smile, and trust whatever I, or anyone tells you.”

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, but his mind couldn’t focus. His thoughts were slipping away, replaced by something far simpler, far more primal.

“His thoughts now cloud with only two desires,

To lift, to bed, these things alone will stay.

His mind a fog, of neither will it tire,

And all else fades, in gym and bed to play.”

With those words, haze descended over Adam’s mind. Thoughts, once sharp and filled with wit, were now muddled, clouded with only two overpowering urges. He wanted to work out. He wanted to fuck. Everything else—his career, his pride, his intellect—faded into the background, meaningless, never to be seen again.

Images of bench presses flashed into his shrinking mind, the sensation of cold iron in his sweaty hands, the strain of his muscles as they bulged and flexed. And then there was sex—hot, mindless sex. His cock throbbed in his shorts, and the desire, the absolute need for physical release overwhelmed him, drowning out any other thought. Working out, fucking, working out, fucking, again and again and again. That was all that mattered now. Nothing else made sense, not like he could comprehend it anyways.

Adam tried to resist, to push through the fog, but alas, it was no use. His mind was too far gone, too consumed by primal urges. He let out a resonant, needy groan, his thoughts too disorganized to form any coherent plan of escape.

George watched with satisfaction as Adam’s transformation neared its end. With a triumphant smile, he delivered the final couplet.

“And now this man goes by initials who,

With knowledge slight, no higher than eight-two.”

As George’s last words took their hold, Adam felt the last remnants of his old self slip away, the final pieces of his mind shattering like glass into a distant oblivion. He wasn’t Adam anymore. He was… AJ. His name was AJ, always had been. That dumb, jockish grin became permanent across his face as his old life rewrote itself. His memories, once filled with scholarships, academic debates, tragedies and comedies, were now replaced by scenes of the gym, of flexing in front of the mirror, of fucking nameless faces in dark, sweaty backrooms.

His chest swelled with pride at the thought of lifting those heavy weights, of feeling the burn in his muscles as he pushed himself harder and harder. His thoughts were no longer burdened by complicated ideas or big words. They were simple, direct. Lift. Fuck. Repeat. That was it.

AJ blinked, his slack jaw hanging open as he stood there in front of George, his once bright mind now dim, sluggish, and focused only on the most basic of desires. His body reeked of fart and musk, his mind a tangled mess of lust and primal urges. His life as Adam, the intellectual, was gone. All that remained was AJ, a dumb, slutty, smelly jock.

George stepped back, admiring his handiwork as AJ smiled dumbly at him, his eyes empty, his brain no longer capable of critical thought. “You look perfect, AJ,” George said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

AJ’s grin widened, his thick tongue lolling slightly as he scratched at his crotch. “Th-thanks… bro,” he slurred, his voice deep and stupid.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” George murmured, tilting AJ’s chin up so their eyes met.

AJ’s smile grew even wider, his lips twitching as he struggled to form words. “Yeah, bro,” he said, his voice slow and thick. “I’m… real good.”

George couldn’t help but laugh. AJ was exactly what he had imagined—empty-headed, obedient, and driven by nothing more than his primal instincts. “You won’t be needing any of those big words anymore, will you, AJ?” George asked, his voice dripping with condescension.

AJ shook his head, his brow furrowing slightly as if even that small movement required a great deal of effort. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbled. “Big words are… uh… too hard.”

“Exactly,” George said, patting AJ’s cheek lightly. “And from now on, you’re going to live a very simple life. No more worrying about being better than anyone else. No more trying to prove how smart you are. You’ll be much happier this way. Just working out, fucking, and doing whatever you’re told.”

AJ nodded slowly, his thick muscles pulling and rippling beneath his skin as he flexed unconsciously. “Yeah, bro,” he agreed, his voice, like his mind, slow. “I like… liftin’... an’ fuckin’...”

“Now, AJ,” George said with command, “I think it’s time you head to the gym. You wouldn’t want to miss leg day, would you?”

AJ’s eyes widened slightly, the thought of working out sending a thrill of excitement through his body. “Leg day,” he repeated. “Yeah, bro. I gotta… lift.”

George smirked, watching diligently at his Frankenstein creation as AJ’s single-minded focus shifted completely to the gym. “That’s right, big guy. Go on, hit the weights, and make sure everyone sees how big and strong you are.”

AJ beamed, his dim-witted grin stretching even wider. “Gotta pump some iron.”  And as AJ disappeared into the distance, George sighed, knowing the man who’d once scoffed at him, at the very idea of magic and fate was now living proof of it’s power, his entire existence rewritten by just a few simple words. George smirked, satisfied once again, and waited for the next asshole to match with him on Hinge.

AJ, meanwhile, wandered toward the gym, his thoughts a jumbled mess of anticipation and primal urges. He could feel the weight of his bulging muscles with every step, the tightness of his tank top stretching across his massive chest. The constant itch in his groin had him adjusting his shorts every few seconds, a fart always ready in the chamber, and his cock already hard at the thought of the next guy he’d meet, or the next weight he’d lift.  He grinned stupidly, flexing his biceps as he prepared for the first set. “Let’s go, bro,” he muttered to himself, his voice thick with excitement. “Time to get swole.”

And with that, AJ’s transformation was complete. The man he had once been—Adam, the intellectual, the scholar—was gone, replaced by a farting, burping, simple-minded, horny, muscle-obsessed jock who lived only for the gym, for sex, and for any task any man asked for.

“Life’s good, bruh.”

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[axeeglitter]

Melorius's shop: Fitting in

Felix adjusted his glasses and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as he stepped into the costume shop, his slender frame almost swallowed by the oversized hoodie he always wore. Standing just a bit shorter than average, his narrow shoulders and slight build made him easy to overlook, especially with his soft, bookish features and perpetually messy hair. His hands were long and fine, fingers ink-stained from hours of note-taking, and his skin was pale from too many nights spent studying instead of seeing the sun. With his hunched posture and timid gait, Felix looked every bit the shy, kind-hearted geek who’d rather be reading about heroes than pretending to be one.

Felix opened the door of the old looking Costume’s shop; a bell rang as the door opened and its sound echoed between the dusty racks of costumes. Costumes crowded every corner, piled high in stacks and hung on hooks from the ceiling, casting odd, twisting shadows. He adjusted his glasses, blinking in the dusty light as he took it all in. The place seemed nearly forgotten, like it had been waiting for decades just for him.

"Excuse me?" he called out softly, his voice echoing a bit. "I'm looking for…um…a Spiderman costume, or really any superhero costume."

From behind a counter lined with old-fashioned masks, an elderly man emerged, smiling a bit too widely. His eyes glinted, as if he found Felix’s presence amusing. "Ah, superheroes. Everyone wants to be one," he mused, studying Felix with a strange intensity. "But I’m afraid you're a bit late, young man. All the superheroes are gone."

“Oh.” Felix sighed, glancing around as he tugged at his collar, feeling the cool, almost expectant air of the shop pressing in on him. "Do you have anything else? Something…kind of low-key? Anything cool will be perfect to be honest."

The man tilted his head thoughtfully, then reached under the counter. After a moment, he pulled out a different outfit, holding it up. It was a football quarterback uniform, complete with shoulder pads, a helmet, and a jersey bearing the number 11 in bold, almost intimidating font.

Felix felt his heart sink. "Uh… I’m not really the football type," he began, unsure how to say no.

But the man only smiled. "Halloween is a night for trying new things, isn’t it? You might find this… transformative." With a small wink, he pressed the costume into Felix’s hands, gesturing toward the dressing room in the back.

Reluctantly, Felix took it. The fabric felt strange under his fingers, thicker and heavier than he’d expected. With a last look at the old man, who was watching him with that same enigmatic smile, Felix ducked into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. He really didn’t want to try it on, specially because at college, he was bullied by the football team, especially Josh, one of the biggest douchebag earths has ever worn. He was everything Felix hated. Big, muscled piled on muscles, obnoxious, fucking everything he could find and worst of all, forcing his best friend Nathan to do his homework and terrifying the shit out of him.

Felix hesitated, looking at himself in the mirror. His slight frame, glasses, and messy hair were the epitome of what people at his college would call "nerdy." This costume was everything he wasn’t and everything he despised. But not wanting to appear rude, he slipped the jersey over his head, adjusting it as it clung uncomfortably close to his skin. Oddly, it felt warm, almost like it was… alive.

As he finsihed putting on the quaterback equipment and tugged the fabric of the jersey over his torso, a sharp, sudden pain blossomed across his chest. He gasped, clutching at his sides as a strange pressure spread through him. His chest muscles contracted and expanded, stretching outward with a force he couldn't control. The flat, narrow lines of his torso swelled as new muscle filled every inch, his chest pushing outward in thick slabs of pecs that strained against the jersey. With each breath, his pecs grew denser, pressing forward until they filled the front of the jersey, hard and defined.

“What…what is happening?” he whispered, trying to pull the jersey off, but his arms wouldn’t obey. He was frozen, forced to watch as the transformation moved to his shoulders and arms.

Pain surged through his shoulders as they broadened, the pads pressing down on him, molding his frame into something bigger, stronger. His deltoids pushed outward, rounding out, followed by his biceps, which bulged, straining the fabric with their new mass. Thick veins appeared along his forearms, pulsing with a warmth that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His hands changed too, the fingers thickening, becoming rough and calloused, palms broadening until they looked like they belonged to someone who’d spent years gripping footballs rather than comic books.

Each new jolt of growth felt like a small explosion, his nerves alive with the prickling of muscle fiber expanding and hardening beneath his skin. His legs cramped next, a powerful spasm that had him doubling over as his thighs and calves swelled. Muscles he’d never known he had bulged out, pressing against the fabric until the pants were stretched taut over thick quads and hamstrings that filled out with each second. He staggered, watching his thighs widen, hard and massive, his calves now like solid trunks that seemed rooted to the floor.

Felix started to feel an odd sensation creeping under his soles. Suddenly, he felt like they began to burn as they expanded within the cleats he had just put on. His toes thickened, his arches lifted, his entire foot stretching and swelling until they filled the once-loose cleats perfectly, now large and sturdy, every step grounding him with an unfamiliar weight.

The changes weren’t just physical. A strange heat built up within him, simmering in his core, moving down to his groin with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He tried to fight it, his mind screaming for control, but his body surged ahead. His hips rolled slightly as his groin responded, thickening, growing, his manhood pressing uncomfortably against the waistband of his pants. He felt his shaft pulse and throb as it swelled, growing heavier, bigger, until it strained against the fabric, every inch filling him with an unsettling mix of power and shame. It was relentless, each throb amplifying the sensation, his groin now packed with a weight and presence that was almost dizzying. Even his balls grew, swelling until they hung heavily between his legs, pressing against his thighs, a constant reminder of the physicality that had taken over him.

As he looked down, horrified, he saw that his pubic area was now covered in a thick, wiry thatch of dark hair. Felix couldn’t even the skin under the hair anymore. Pure dark thick hair. It itched slightly, but there was no escaping the primal, raw feeling it gave him. His hands, now large and rough, instinctively went to adjust his groin, but he couldn’t control the action, it was like his body was reveling in its own size, flexing, posing.

His reflection sneered back at him, a cocky grin that made his skin crawl. His face had sharpened, his jawline strong and angular, his cheekbones high and defined. His eyes, once soft and shy, had become piercing, almost predatory. His hair had changed too, dark and thick, styled perfectly as though he’d just stepped out of a salon.

“Oh no… no, no, no…” he whispered, his voice deeper, resonant, filled with a confidence he didn’t feel. He tried to speak again, but it was like his voice had been absorbed, lost within the powerful timbre that echoed back at him.

Inside his mind, a voice spoke, smooth and arrogant, brimming with strength. “Looks like you’re ready to play, bro.”

“No! I’m not…I’m not…” he tried to say, but his own body laughed, a rich, self-assured chuckle that came from deep in his chest. It was like he was locked in a cage, forced to watch as his new form flexed and stretched, testing the limits of his newly thickened muscles. His hands slid over his chest, his abs, tracing the hard ridges of his pecs and torso in a way that horrified him. Every touch was a betrayal, each inch of him celebrating its own strength and virility.

And then, with a horrible clarity, he realized his surroundings had changed. The dusty walls of the dressing room had faded, replaced by the familiar, well-worn space of a college bedroom. Posters lined the walls, a football on the desk, the scent of cologne mingling with the faint smell of beer, feet and cum. His heart pounded as he saw the reflection of the street in the mirror in front of the bed. He knew this street, but from where? His body kept on flexing his biceps and posing while adjusting his python in his jeans. Suddenly Felix recognizes it, it was Josh’s Fraternity house. “God please, NOOOOOO…” he screamed internally as his body groped once again his thick semi hard dick pressed against his thighs.

The door burst open, and Josh strode in, grinning widely as he clapped him on the back. “Yo, Mike! You ready to tear it up tonight? Halloween bash is going to be insane! Get ready and come downstairs bro’ ”

Inside, Felix’s true self screamed, but his new body only laughed, a confident sound that filled the room. He could feel everything, trapped as a spectator within his own body, unable to stop the deep, casual flex of his muscles, the cocky grin that spread across his face.

Felix swaggered out of the bedroom, every muscle loose and relaxed as he automatically headed downstairs. He barely noticed the lingering shift in his walk, the easy confidence that had replaced his usual awkward, careful steps. He knew, in some distant part of himself, that this wasn’t him. But the name "Mike" echoed back each time he tried to remember his real name.

The first person he saw downstairs was Josh, grinning as he slammed a hand down on Felix’s shoulder with a rough camaraderie that would have once made Felix cringe. Josh, the biggest, brashest jock on campus, was someone he’d always tried to avoid. Now, though, he found himself smiling back, his thoughts warming with a strange fondness he couldn’t quite understand. Josh chuckled, punching him lightly in the arm. “Ready to get this party started, bro?”

The response came instinctively. "Always, man!" His voice sounded rich and easy, filled with that same underlying confidence, and Felix felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It felt… right, somehow, and as they worked together with the others, hanging lights and arranging tables, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of fitting in, of belonging here in a way he never had before.

Then the doorbell rang, and Mike headed to answer it, his steps naturally assured, shoulders relaxed. When he opened the door, he froze for a second. Standing there was Nathan, his best friend, the same familiar face and shy smile he’d grown up with. His friend’s arms were full of papers, Josh’s homework, he realized with a strange clarity.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got the assignments Josh asked for,” Nathan said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he handed the papers over. Mike reached out to take them, a small pang of something strange flickering in his mind as he looked at his friend’s familiar, nervous expression. Felix woke up from his mental fog and remembered who he truly was. He was not Mike; he was Felix and Nathan was his best friend. How long did he forget, how is that possible to forget who you are? Inside his head, Felix was panicking and trying to scream and beg for help to Nathan, but on the outside, Mike just grabbed the paper and put on a cocky grin as he realizes how thick Nathan’s ass was.

“Thanks, man,” Mike replied automatically, the words feeling strange in his deeper, confident voice. Josh took the papers with barely a nod, heading back toward the party, and Mike found himself lingering, watching Nathan’s body with a hungry look. Out of nowhere, Mike started to talk kindly to Nathan and to Felix’s surprise, Nathan answered back, worst he recognized in his best friend a feeling of joy as they kept talking together about every and anything.

They chatted for a few minutes, the small talk flowing in a way that felt oddly natural. Felix was screaming for this to stop. Maybe if he screamed loud enough, he will be able to grab dominance over this new Mike’s mind and be able to ask for help. But it didn’t work. Worst, he screamed in panic as he heard himself asking Nathan to come outside to grab a drink. They both went to his bedroom upstairs and just before closing the door, Mike threw a knowing look and a cocky grin to Josh, both of them smiling as they knew Mike was getting lucky.  

Once they were there, Mike listened to his friend talk, nodding as they laughed over stories that seemed almost familiar, yet distant. He felt himself leaning in without even realizing it, his heart pounding a bit harder, his thoughts becoming hazy. There was a moment, a single spark that made everything feel suddenly real, and then just as Nathan was saying that he should go back home to get ready for his Halloween Dungeon and Dragons party, Felix felt his body plunging on Nathan’s lips. He felt the surprise of Nathan fading into acceptance as he gave back his kiss. After some minutes of kissing and touching each other, Mike jumped back up and threw his clothes away, standing erect with his 11 inches dick in front of Nathan. He then started to walk slowly back to Nathan while grinning and talking again. “So tell me Bae’, Trick or treat?” Felix was disgusted by what was happening, how could this happen. He wasn’t even gay, and Nathan was his best friend. No that couldn’t be, it must be a nightmare. But out of nowhere, Felix felt wet lips around his thick cock. The sensation sent shivers down his spine and Mike grabbed Nathan’s head under his calloused palms as he forced it all the way down to his pubes. Felix was torn apart between the pleasure was feeling and the pain of knowing his best friend was giving him a blowjob. Then he felt a rush coming down on him. He felt as his toes started to grip the carpeted floor, his muscles started to tense and his breath became chaotic. “No please, I can’t…” Felix tried to say in a last moment of consciousness as Mike started to spasm and cum straight inside Nathan’s throat, making sure he swallowed every drop of his precious cum. His mind went blank, a flood of warmth washing over him, leaving nothing behind. For a split second, he reached for something he couldn’t name, something lost in a flood of heat and release. Then everything was clear. He was Mike. When he opened his eyes after a couple of pleasurable seconds, Felix was gone. Only Mike stood there. With a satisfied sigh, Mike got his dick out, feeling the lingering warmth radiate through his body, calming his heartbeat. He pulled back on his gym shorts, adjusting his jockstrap, and shot a quick glance in the mirror. As Mike opened the door, he took a look down at Nathan still baked in the pleasure they both just had. “So, do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?” Nathan asked with kindness in his eyes. Mike turned back and laughed before answering “Yo bro’ get the fuck out before I call the broskis to finish you up. You really thought this could be a we? You are a whole for me to fuck and nothing else. Now get the fuck out looser!”

Mike turned back to the mirror and adjusted his cap backward. Perfect, as always. Heading downstairs without another thought, he was ready to enjoy the party, the memory of whatever he’d been worrying about entirely gone.

______________________________________________________________

Hey everybody! Here is the new chapter inspired by this prompt from @yuighjvbn123 "Well, I hope you continue the melorious shop, especially making the sequel for the First Customer story. I really want to see the other perspective, now this time for a shy clumsy nerd who got transformed into a muscular handsome sexy jock. Bit then his demeanor also changed, into more cocky self-obsessed narcissist diva and the usual horny lol. I know it's a basic standard tf plot, but I know you'll find a way to spice things up and make it even hotter"

Hope you guys enjoyed it and see you soon for another adventure ;)

[kylestfs]

The Elevator Encounters

Oliver sighed as he stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor to his small appartment. It was late, and he was exhausted after the long work day he just had. As the elevator slowly made it's way up, he leaned against the wall and looked at his important work e-mails.

The elevator dinged at the first floor, he looked up.

The doors slid open, and in walked two figures, ones that Oliver specifically didn't want to share the elevator ride with - Young jocks. They were obviously going back from the gym, based on their clothes and the sweat gleaming off their muscular bodies, making the air filled with an overpowering scent of sweat, musk, and overall unpleasant raw masculinity. They grinned at him, but there was something off about their smiles, apart from the fact that they had yellowish teeth.

“Hey man, looking a little scrawny there,” one of them said with a chuckle, stepping closer.

Before Oliver could think about responding, the jock who made the highschool bully-like comment placed his hand on his shoulder, sending a shock through his body. His mind paused as his muscles tensed. He tried to speak, but his thoughts were suddenly slow, his words stumbling as the jock's voice seemed to echo in his head, while the funk coming from them was hypnotizing him more and more.

“You need to bulk up, bro,” the other one added, his deep voice reverberating through the small space.

As the jocks stared into his eyes, he felt his body waking up as his muscles weirdly tightened. His arms felt bigger, but not excessively huge as they swelled beneath his shirt and his biceps thickened. Oliver tried to fight it, to escape, but all he could do was watch as his veins pushed to the surface. His shoulders broadened, and his chest started to push outward, straining against the fabric of his shirt. His muscles grew in a lean/jock way, but not in a bodybuilder way.

“Yeah, that’s it… bigger, hotter,” the first jock whispered in his ear, his eyes locked onto the reflection in the mirror, watching his body slowly grow and change.

He couldn’t think— his mind was so slow and foggy, and all he could hear was the jocks’ voices, urging him to grow, to get bigger, to become more like them. His thoughts felt slower, dumber, but he didn’t care, he was becoming too stupid to care.

The elevator dinged again.

The doors opened to reveal another jock, less muscular than the last two but more defined and "twunk" like, He squeezed into the elevator with a smirk, his eyes immediately locking onto Oliver.

“Looks like you could use some help. You wanna be a fuckboy, right?” the new jock asked, his voice a low growl.

He nodded, unable to resist. He never signed up for this, or wanted it at all, but his body was already halfway through the transformation, and there was more to come.

“Good… real good. Let’s make you the fuckboy you were meant to be,” the jock said as his hand slid down to his neck.

The moment he touched his throat, his voice deepened, becoming more teenager ish but more commanding. He felt a surge of power wash over him, his thoughts slowing even further, reduced to slow, dumb and primal instincts. The scent of the jocks—raw, sweaty, alpha— kept filling his nose, clouding his mind even more.

The elevator stopped again.

Another jock, covered in a sheen of sweat, stepped in - his body radiating heat and power. He leaned against the elevator wall, smirking as he looked him up and down.

“Smell that, bro? That’s what a real man smells like,” he said, flexing his defined but lean biceps. “Let’s see if you can smell good like us.”

Oliver felt a weird sensation as his skin, already slick with sweat from his previous interactions, began to emit a stronger, smellier funk. But unlike the overwhelming, vomit-worthy stench he feared, it was more subtle—masculine and intense, and thankfully not unbearable. It lingered in the air, radiating from his body, especially from his pits, feet, and his butt. He noticed a hint of funk rising from his feet, which now felt way larger and heavier in his shoes. His armpits felt sticky with sweat, the hair becoming bushier, and his body gave off a natural stink that fit the dumb fuckboy he was turning into.

He could feel the sweat from his entire body drooling in his pits and lower back, as the ripe odor made itself known more and more. Occasionally, a deep rumble in his gut hinted at something else—an urge to release a primal, manly dominating stink from within. He felt the pressure but didn’t care, he released it, and felt the ripe air escaping his butt as his fart filled the elevator, making the other jocks proud of who Oliver became.

The jocks had finished their jobs and left the elevator, only 2 floors were left.

The elevator dinged once again

The doors opened to reveal a new group entering. This time, it wasn’t jocks. Three twinks stepped inside, their eyes fixing onto Oliver. They were all cute, 18 to 20 year olds and their slim physiques were as perfect as you'd imagine. As they entered, the air shifted. Their presence and vibe was different—calmer, cooler, but with a predatory edge of their own.

One of the twinks leaned in close, his perfect fingers brushing against Oliver’s chest. "You’re hot," he purred, "but we’re going to make sure you’re hot everywhere, babe."

Before Oliver could respond, one of the twinks bowed down in front of him, his fingers trailing along his thighs as he felt a sudden jolt in his lower half. His pants tightened, but this time not from muscle—his package was swelling, pressing hard against the fabric. He groaned, the sensation almost overwhelming, as his manhood shifted, growing thicker but not longer, it was becoming shorter. His dick ending at a short 3.9 inches, but very thick and veiny. The twink stood up, satisfied, brushing his fingers along Oliver’s bulge slowly while smirking.

"Now you’re packing like a real stud," he whispered with a smirk.

Another twink, standing behind him, traced his hand along Oliver’s broad back before settling on his rear. With a teasing squeeze, he murmured, “Let’s give you something that really stands out.”

Oliver gasped as his backside started to change. His ass filled out, growing firm and round, pushing against the tight fabric of his pants. His hips widened slightly, giving him a more defined, powerful stance. He could feel the weight of his new, perfectly sculpted butt, the kind that drew attention wherever he went.

The third twink, stepped in front of him. "But that face..." he said, lifting a hand to Oliver’s chiseled jawline, "it needs to be flawless. Let’s make you like, a real pretty boy."

As the twink’s fingers brushed against his face, Oliver’s features started to shift. His cheekbones lifted slightly, giving him a more youthful, angular look. His skin smoothed out, free of any imperfections. His lips plumped slightly, taking on a fuller, more kissable shape, while his eyes brightened, becoming sharper and more striking. He could feel his whole face rearranging into something undeniably hot, almost model-like, with a perfect mix of masculinity and beauty.

The twinks stepped back to admire their work. “Not done yet,” one of them murmured, reaching up to run his hand through Oliver’s hair. His curls were wild and unkempt from the transformation so far, but that was about to change. With a snap of his fingers, the twink adjusted Oliver’s hair, turning it into a sleek, styled cut that framed his new face perfectly. His hair shortened and cleaned up, still curly but with a deliberately messy yet stylish look, the kind that took no effort but looked flawless.

“Now you’re perfect,” the first twink said, admiring him from head to toe. Oliver glanced into the elevator’s mirror. His reflection was nearly unrecognizable—a mix of power, beauty, and primal masculinity. His muscles were large, but his proportions were refined. His face was sharp and stunning. His package strained against his pants, his ass round, firm and rock hard to the touch.

As the elevator continued to climb, the twinks circled him like vultures, admiring their creation. He was a masterpiece of both raw, primal strength and irresistible beauty—a perfect alpha, but with a twinkish touch of aesthetic perfection.

Oliver could barely think. His thoughts were slow and clouded, reduced to basic, primal urges. All he could feel was the overwhelming power coursing through his body, mixed with the vain satisfaction of his perfect looks. He flexed in the mirror, grinning dumbly as the elevator stopped, one last time.

The twinks left the elevator with Oliver, all going to his apartment for a little 'test drive'.

[misctf]

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh.  He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.” 

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ‘cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

[onelittlespiral]

How about a jock twinning tf?👀

Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike

FML: Match

He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.

He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.

“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.

“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”

“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:

“No, please, let me go.”

“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.

“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”

“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.

“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”

I was let loose from inside him.

It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:

“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”

“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.

“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”

He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.

“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“

I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:

“Now CUM.”

Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor

“How you feeling bro?” I asked him

“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”

I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”

“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”

“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”

“God we’re so hot bro…”

The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:

“Yeah we are, bruh.”

[occamstfs]

Conjuration: The Call

Ozzie begrudgingly plays a thinly disguised trading card game and finds some fun teaching his meathead friend a lesson.

Something between a role reversal and devolution! Jock -> Twink and Nerd -> Brute! Hope you enjoy this tale of a wishful role-player growing to dominate a try hard, Best! -Occam

Ozzie absolutely hated trading card games, he missed the boat and loathed being made to feel stupid like they always end up doing. Perhaps some self-reflection could see him giving Conjuration: the Call a fair shake, when a game of CTC was thrust on him instead of the DND session he was coming to play, the man was in not so charitable a mood.

Prepped to play his Druid all night, Ozzie is sulking in the kitchen when his friend Lily, patient zero of getting their group playing CTC again, brings over a proxy deck she made for him. “Heyyy babe~ Sorry about the bait and switch, I thought we were going to play DND too but apparently Mark’s sick and Alex thought this would be a great chance for you to learn how to play!”

His scowl quickly shifts between Lily, her half-hearted olive branch, and their friend group’s surly Adonis, Alex, who winks before returning to set up the table for their game. Ozzie sighs, not wanting to make a scene, he reaches out to inspect the printed deck in her hands. She perks up, “perfect! You’re gonna love it I swear!

The hitherto hater sighs, “ughh. You guys are just going to steamroll me like always! Is the deck too complicated to learn on the fly?” Her eyes glimmer as she slyly makes sure Alex can’t hear, “Not at all! I’ll be right there if you need any help and-“ 

Before she can explain, the man at the table interrupts, “you ladies done yet?” In their running campaign the impatient Alex plays a barbarian which mimics both his stature and nature out of game quite well, in Conjuration however he’s emerged as quite the rival to Lucy. Which Ozzie knows as she begins to explain, now at a whisper, “okay so it’s actually a deck to counter Alex’s.”

She immediately goes to defend her ulterior motives as Ozzie’s scowl returns with a vengeance, “oh c’mooon Ozz, I made this whole deck for you! I found the commander in the bulk bin and thought it sounded like your thing!” Shuffling through the box he checks it out, Loggan the Brain, nice and holographic. He pauses to appreciate how it feels in his hands, heavier than expected and almost warm to the touch. After a moment he looks up to find Lily has already gone to join the rest of the party at the table.

Finishing up his huffing, Ozzie sits opposite Alex who performatively flexes as he shuffles his deck, “Ready to get schooled by the man?” They’re friends at the end of the day so Ozzie doesn’t try to hide his irritation as he responds, “oh I’m sure there’s nothing you love more than beating newbies huh”

Alex takes a few seconds trying to think of some clever reply but after a few playful jibes from Lily and Tim, their fourth player, he decides to save any further taunts for the game. It’s not Ozzie’s first time playing Conjuration, how else would he hold it in such blatant disregard. Resolutely he refuses a tutorial from Alex and Lily. The pair make eye contact as they try to push down the urge to take candy from the new player and instead scheme how they can both use his inexperience to their advantage.

The first couple rounds go by in a flash, the other three begin setting up decks they are clearly incredibly familiar with while Ozzie races to read the little cheat sheet Lily made for the deck before performing a decent opening few rounds himself. Ozzie figures Alex must be running some kind of counterspell deck as Lily’s notes make it very clear that this proxy is a counter-counterspell deck, as it were. 

Lily would never be able to play this deck as it relies on someone counterspelling the Loggan the Brain without checking the specifics, and Alex would never do so to someone with as firm a grasp as her. When Ozzie goes to summon his commander though there's a glimmer in the jock’s eyes as his fingers go to counter the summon before Ozzie even announces, and in doing so he falls into the trap of the deck. 

Alex reaches over to push Loggan back off the board only to be stopped by Lily, almost shaking from excitement as she bursts out into laughter and explains the situation. She points to the ability text Drain: Start of the round gains one “Devolution” spell card. When “Devolution” is used to counter an offensive spell on yourself, put a token on Loggan the Brain. After ten tokens are placed on Loggan the Brain, replace him with Ogg the Brawn.

Hearing his opponent groan from an easily averted own goal he finishes his turn to see Alex scratching his chest and complaining, “I’ve never seen these stupid cards before, are you sure these are legal?” His eyes narrow at Lily who shrugs and tries to taunt him into casting a spell at Ozzie, “Who knows man, maybe it’s not even that good? You should cast a spell at him to see what it does!” With a wry grin she meets Alex’s scowl. For now he stills his hand as they prepare to deal with the quiet Tim as he quickly becomes the biggest threat on the board.

When it comes back to Ozzie’s turn the fun begins at last, launching a spell at Alex who has no choice but to counter, which is of course met with the new player’s own “Devolution” counter. Ozzie and Alex both open their mouths to complain, about the game being convoluted and unfair respectively. Before they can lash out however both men see a token appear on Loggan the Brain without anyone reaching to put it there. 

Only Alex and Ozzie seem to notice the board changing without any human aid, before they can react however they are both filled with an alien warmth. Alex’s hands shoot to his crotch and his face flares with embarrassment. All eyes fall to him as he almost squeaks as his meaty hands struggle to hide the fact that he’s getting obscenely hard at the CTC table, “GrheEEK! AH- hEM” the macho man tries to hide the voice crack from the table, failing to do so they all incredulously stare.

“Psh jeez- can’t a dude sneeze? Fuck!” Knowing they have most of a game still ahead of them no one goes in too hard on Alex, even as his complaints sound decidedly whinier to their ears. Were they to look even a smidge closer at the sscowling man’s face they’d surely see its hard edges begin to soften as his scratchy perma-stubble starts thinning. Alex flips through his bulky hand wondering how he’s going to overcome the pair of opponents, ignorant as his arms are slowly drained of the strength he has honed for over a decade at the gym.

oes Ozzie fail to see how he too begins to shift over the next round. When all hands go to counter a spell cast once more the situation ends once more with Alex being rebuffed by a Devolution card Ozzie drew. Thin fingers go to cover his mouth as he tries to quiet his laughter at Alex’s lips pulling into a pout, looking plumper than usual. Ozzie ignores the flitter at finding that exciting to instead taunt the man looking mousier but is distracted as he scratches his cheek, “Ah c’mon there Aluh- hm.” 

Ozzie pauses as he hears his fingers scratching at, well it sounds like stubble? After a few more strokes he speaks up again, “Uhh guys did I need to shave when I came in?” The party is focussed on his question so they take no heed of his voice sagging deeper with every word. Instead they narrow their eyes at his jawline. It takes him quite a while to grow any kind of facial hair so it’s not like it just sprouted up all of a sudden? Right? Alex laughs and rubs his own face, “Ah Hah! Followin’ the lead of your favorite role model huh! Heehee! Er-”

All laugh as Alex giggles uncharacteristically, cuing him up to go all out and defend his fragile masculinity. Ozzie sits back and watches as him and Lily tag team their fourth player into an early knock-out. All the while though he begins to feel odd? His palms are sweaty, upon closer inspection he realizes his whole form is sweaty. 

Eyes off him he airs out his chest and yelps as he accidentally grabs a tuft of chest hair. He looks down his shirt, slightly obscured by a stubbly little mustache poking out of his upper lip and barely quiets a gasp from shock as he sees a few curls sticking out the center of his bony chest. His inspection then falls onto the hand still grasping at his tee, almost imperceptible blond hairs that have humbly decorated his wrist have lengthened, darkened, and spread into a truly thick jungle on his forearms.

Needing to draw a few more cards to get his target out, Alex can’t help but shoot a couple more spells out at Lily who then redirects them to Ozz. Returning his focus to the board he grunts and prepares to take the hit before checking his hand to find two more copies of Devolution in his hand. He tosses them clumsily on the table and guffaws and shouts in his gruffer voice, “Hah! When’re you gonna learn to not target the man, fucker!” Ozzie reclines once more as Alex ignores his taunts and continues to take his turn.

Half-way to switching out his commander for a card he hasn’t read yet he tugs down his shirt as he feels a breeze on his exposed midriff. There seems to be a volley of new curls stretching above his waistline, briefly making sure no one’s watching he scratches at the pubes slowly inching into a dense treasure trail and almost moans at the distracting pleasure. With each quivering new sensation the blonde curls he has long been proud of darken and recede to something choppy and brown, shrinking back as from every inch of his form curls of the same pervasive brown race to assert his primal masculinity.

With each drag into the growing garden of hair on his waist the urge to vocalize his pleasure grows more difficult to ignore. The stubble on his face continues to thicken, growing into something more than five o’clock shadow that would put Alex’s to shame at its best. Speaking of, as his usual ungroomed stubble continues to fade and shrink into a face shifting as smooth as porcelain he can’t help but stare at Ozzie’s face with jealousy, his cock pulsing once more in his gym shorts and he grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the game and not on how Ozzie’s sleeves almost seem to be hugging his arms.

Ozzie similarly doesn’t see as his eyes are closed to be almost obscenely lost in the fulfillment of scratching his itch. Though he feels it. His arms slowly edging larger, straining his sleeves almost to tearing with each meagre movement. He feels stubble slowly growing up past his neckline, giving him a few stray curls that would need a turtleneck to hide as his chest begins to amass new weight and muscle itself.

In his death throes Tim follows Lily’s lead and forces Alex to toss a few more spells that will hopefully be blocked at Ozzie. Still lost in the reverie of his changing form, Ozzie doesn’t even check his cards as his hand quickly shoots up from his crotch and tosses two cards onto the table. Without looking two more tokens appear on Loggan the Brain and both Alex and Ozz clench the table as they are struck with another wave of changes. 

The other two players at the table are suddenly engrossed in checking their hands, as if compelled to not notice as Alex is suddenly swimming in clothes that he chose explicitly to highlight how built he was looking today, his neckline droops low enough that it should expose his burly-hair covered chest. The only thing it shows now however are two spray-tanned pecs that seem to be shrinking.

Alex doesn’t notice as his shoes almost fall off of his feet as they drop a few sizes, no instead he bites his lip and stares hungrily at the man who was supposed to be his quarry. His cock feels wanting his balls blue, more than that though for the first time in his life his ass almost feels empty, in need of something- or someone. He doesn’t put two and two together as he continues to stare at Ozzie growing hairier. 

The once mousy man finally fills his nerdy tee enough that it begins to fray and tear. Similarly do the slacks he threw on for game day find themselves more than filled with meaty thighs and a package that has blossomed into an absolute veiny beast. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes it in for the first time. His thicker, rougher hands reach downward and with the slightest touch his hips buck and his zipper blows out as his cock strains it to the breaking point. Barely contained in his briefs Ozzie has to ignore the wet patch of pre staining through them and put all his energy towards not cumming then and there in front of his friends as the game remains ongoing.

While the two were distracted by their changing tastes and bodies, Tim was officially knocked out of the game leaving everyone worse for wear. Though after another couple rounds it becomes clear that Alex is very much off his game. His white teeth continue to chew at his plumper lips as he’s lost in thought. 

Ozzie similarly chews his lip, champing at the bit as he stares at the shrinking man. Fuuuck, he’s real cute when he works himself up. His inner monologue sinks deeper in tone to match his new voice as his thoughts grow rougher, simpler. Under the table his hand can’t help but go to his crotch as images of some massive beast of a man dominating the twink push to the front of his mind. Drool dripping from teeth bared onto Alex’s back as he arches up into heavy pecs, as if he were made to be under the man, if he were made to be under Ozz- Fuck.

Alex shivers as the table shakes from Ozzie rutting into it, gasping as his own ass fills out. He’d never really spent dedicated time crafting the perfect butt, or no- is that true? His phone suddenly fills with nudes taken of his sculpted, smooth butt and sent to- Ozzie’s bearded face forces itself to the front of his mind. Alex can almost feel his sweaty muscular chest against his own, his fingers curling around hair that inches up from his ass and down from his shoulders. He can almost feel the phantom cock he’s bouncing on before across the table the only player not lost to their lusts clears her throat.

“What is up with you guys?” There’s forced confidence but something is clearly throwing her off her game. Something’s not right. Is it? Oggie- Er, Ozzie? He’s always been a tank, it’s why he’s been so against playing right? And Alex, well shoot that twink is obsessed with Conjuration since it’s the only game or sport that he can beat his- She clenches at her head as she’s seized by a migraine. Perhaps that’s how she falls into the trap that Alex has been setting since turn one.

“Ah HA! Finally biitch! You played right into my hands!” His voice cracks higher, something in the back of her mind swears she’d never let Alex call her a bitch but as she looks at the twink she can’t imagine why. The cocky sneer remains on Alex's face as his hair lengthens into a floppy garden of dirty blonde curls, after looking at the board it fades a little as he struggles to recall how exactly he’s supposed to finish her, “Uhm?”

He scratches at his head and the sleeve hanging on his thin bicep slides back, revealing his pit as the last few hairs remaining of his once proud tuft fall away, leaving behind a fruity scent that will never quite fade instead of the heady musk that could never be quenched. Ozzie didn’t realize he was staring at the twinks pits as they finished smoothing. Looking to his own pit stains on a shirt that seems moments from bursting off his form, he grins toothily and figures he produces well enough stink for the both of them. His canines almost feel larger in his mouth.

 After the song and dance of Lily walking Alex through her own defeat, accompanied by a fair share of giggles from a man who wouldn’t be caught dead speaking even vaguely ‘like a chick’ before the game, Lily heads off with Tim to go grab pizza before the next game. Leaving behind Alex and Ozzie as the game nears its close. Both men struggle to decide on their next moves, or rather if they care enough to even make them, as the other players depart. Ozzie scratches the back of his head like an ape, apathetic to his arm finally bursting free from its sleeve and exposing a hairy pit that Alex eyes hungrily. 

Drooling and wanting to be done with the game as soon as possible the once jock eyes his hand filled with spells and wonders why he has so many? Was there a reason he wasn’t using them? He hesitantly throws one down and is immediately met by a counter. Ozzie grunts as his form bulges larger, brow jutting slightly over blue eyes that don’t quite look so bright any more. He tears off his shirt with one meaty fist before moving to scratch at the carpet of hair covering his torso as if it were a shirt itself.

Ozzie’s own eyes glaze over as he drops his cards on the table, he want game over. His underwear is filled to breaking and he grimaces before going to tear them off just like his shirt. Grunting he punches the table in shock as the elastic band snaps back against him. Veins bulge everywhere across his form as rage fills him enough to rival his hunger for the twink sitting across from him. Struggling to control his breathing as he sits stewing in lust and anger he speaks in a gravely town as his stomach begins to bloat, “Your turn,”

Alex similarly is lacking the focus to continue the game, tossing his hand down his eyes flash as the remaining tokens stack onto Ozzie’s card. Neither man notices as a final line of text appears at the end of the dense paragraph, “If you lack a copy of Ogg the Brawn in your deck, become one.” He doesn’t read the card of course, nor will he chase the urge to read much of anything anymore, but as the ability is activated OzzOgg obeys the instructions to a tee.

Spit drips between gnashing teeth as Ogg stands to his new height. Waist filling out as he pounds onto the table and he grows into a true brute. The elastic band digging into his waist acts like a flank belt as he glowers at Alex and bucks into the table, making a mess of the organized decks as he feels his mind unable to focus on any pursuit other than chasing his hunger.

Alex stands and his pants fall to the floor, unable to remain on his thinned waist, “O-Ogg?” he squeaks out, what was was a tight muscle tee now hangs off a shoulder, perfectly framing a hard nipple and hiding the noticeably smaller bulge where his dick must be. Ogg knocks the table over and tackles the twink with power he never imagined or desired to have. 

Grunting, Ogg can’t control his hips as they continue to rock and thrust as he struggles to position his twitching cock over Alex who endeavors to roll over and present his perky ass. Ogg forces his face down into the nape of Alex’s neck, breathing in his scent, magically alluring and the diametric opposed to the bestial musk that steams off the man whose eyes dull to a dark brown as his stomach bulges into a massive muscle gut.

Underneath, the twink’s mental faculties grow similarly vacant as he feels the hairy stomach scratching against his back, as Ogg’s massive cock finds purchase and fills him with far more powerful pleasure than what Alex has inflicted on many a partner throughout the years. His moans fill the air, rivalling Ogg’s grunts as the pair leave sweat and cum stains on the cold tile. 

The air of the apartment is filled with Ogg’s primal, almost proto-human musk which only makes Alex hungrier for the man he is evermore to be obsessed with. When his face is shoved into Ogg’s jungle of pit hair he wonders how he lived before now as his cock is pressed up against Ogg’s bulky, curl-covered torso.

Eventually their preternatural lusts absolve themselves and in a brief refractory period Alex rushes to clean up the worst of their mess before the other two return with pizza. Ogg of course is no help as he throws on a pair of boxers Alex would’ve sworn were his own and goes to sit on the couch, arm behind his head to air out his steaming pit and continue to rile Alex up. After righting the table and wiping away all the stains he could see the twink indeed goes to nestle up alongside the man on the couch as he throws on some nature documentary.

Alex doesn’t notice as his head finds itself almost immediately in the man’s crotch as his cock starts to poke out the leg of his boxers. Well, when in Rome- Before they can get up to too much fun, they hear the door being jostled. Alex jolts up and swallows the pool of pre-cum filling his mouth before doing a poor job of hiding the rock hard rod in Ogg’s boxers. The brute grunts in irritation and grasps at his needy balls, apathetic to the return of the other platers.

Setting down the pizzas Tim looks over at the clearly worked up pair and rolls his eyes as if this is normal, “Well are you two horndogs up for another game?” Eying both Alex and Tim something besides the Id in Ogg rears up, still seems like there’s a lot left he can drain from the two men. Bulge already inching larger, he stands and goes to pick up Loggan from the floor. Time for round two-