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Sorry its been a while guys, had a lot of things happen that have kept me from writing. I’m not sure I can keep up a regular weekly story atm, but I will keep writing. 

So hope you enjoy

Rozza  

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Colton breathed in deeply, repressing his anxiety as he made his way into school. It was the last month of school before summer, and he was very agitated. Colton lived in a large military town called Fort. Sage. Everyone who lived here had something to do with the military at some point. What made it worse was that every kid from high school was expected to enlist as well, as if it were some requirement of life. Right now, Colton and the rest of his year were finishing studies, after that they were to go and enlist, and Colton didn’t want to.

Colton was an overachieving nerd, always doing his best in studies. He felt the military was beneath him, that it was a waste of time for someone of his intellectual capabilities. The only people who enlisted were dumb boots, who had no other option or were overly patriotic. Regardless of how he felt, though, Colton was being pressured to enlist.

Colton reached the main corridor and went to his locker. It hadn’t been a minute, and he could hear Daniel and his idiot friends marching down, interrogating everyone he came into contact to. Daniel was a JROTC cadet and right now, was making sure that everyone was getting signed up for enlistment. To Daniel, this was town culture and life, and he would make sure no one got out.

Colton turned to look at them; they were all in their JROTC uniforms, camo pants, white shirts and camo caps. Daniel obviously distinguished himself as the alpha of the group; he wore green trousers and had a red top on without a cap. They stood and moved as if they were personnel on base, trying to look as army-like as possible. Their faces had little expression as if they were on a mission to get as many people enlisted as possible.

As Colton tried to go, Daniel appeared behind him and gave him a disapproving look.

“Heya Colton, ya know what month it is?” Daniel asked in his deep, dumb voice.

“Yep, its enlistment month,” Colton replied, slightly frightened.

“Yeah, and I haven’t seen your name on any papers yet. Don’t think you bein’ smart makes you any better,” Daniel threatened, smirking.

“Bu…. but I’m going to do it… I promise, Dan,” Colton whimpered as he became tense. Slowly Dan’s buddies surrounded Colton, crossing their arms as they stared in disapproval.

“I don’t know. I think you want to go to college… Yeah you want to go to college do smart stuff, don’t you? But that means not enlisting, and in this town, that’s unacceptable. What’s your dad gonna think if you do that to him? Daniel threatened.

“No, Daniel that’s not at all what I want to do,” Colton said as fear gripped him.

Colton’s eyes couldn’t hide his lies and Daniel saw right through him. Colton decided to try and walk away and escape. He stepped back and tried to escape, but two of Dan’s buds grabbed him and dragged him along.

“Haha, you ain’t escaping dweeb. Now you’re coming with us,”

“Wait, I didn’t mean to try and escape Dan I was just going to class,” Colton pleaded

“Likely story dumbass, I saw you lie, and now your gonna get it,”

Colton was dragged kicking to the bathroom. No one paid attention, either out of fear or out of loyalty to Dan.

They threw Colton to the floor and stripped him naked. Colton lay frozen on the cold, wet floor. The boot cadets started getting out clothing from a duffle bag. First, they forced on a wet jockstrap that squeezed his small cock. His crotch felt itchy as the small light brown hairs grew in length and spread out thickening into a big bush, then his cock felt pleasurable as if he was being jerked off. His cock slowly grew out, from 4 inches out to a monster 10-inch size, thickening as well. The feeling didn’t stop their either.

Colton writhed around on the floor as the uncomfortable pleasure spread throughout him. The guys then got out some camo pants just like theirs and a pair of boots. They pulled up the pants to his waist and then tightened it down so that it clung to the skin with a belt. His weak and small leg muscles ballooned in size, his thighs expanded out, becoming strong and hard. The guys finished off by sticking some boots on his feet and doing up the laces tight like theirs. His feet then grew out to size 13, filling his new boots.

As his lower body grew uncontrollably, his dick was getting harder and harder, eventually leaking out large amounts of pre-cum. He was then pulled up and held by two guys. Daniel and the others grinned as Colton’s eyes got dumber and dumber, his head went fuzzy, and he couldn’t think.

They then got out a razor and started shaving Colton’s head, lumps of dark brown hair fell out until his head was no more than the style of boot camp recruits cut. Colton looked in the mirror, he felt distraught at what was happening to him, but he couldn’t do anything but let it happen.

His balls were now pumping out more cum that then shot out his dick. Unknown to Colton, his brains were being drained out and down into his balls. All his knowledge and memories were leaking out of his cock and evaporating into thin air.

Dan got out a white t-shirt, with the same military logo of the local base and the same that the others were wearing. Colton tried to resist by moving away as they forced the shirt down on him, but it was no use. The shirt was tight, squeezing his flabby arms and chest. The guys then tucked the shirt into the pants smartly. His body then began twitching as his chest bulked up massively, abs popping out of his stomach one by one, pecs widening and hardening out. His shoulder pushed out to the sides, broadening his body. His biceps and triceps then popped out with muscle and size. His physique now looked as if he had been working out for years, in fact, he looked just like one of Daniels goons.

“Hey Colton, looking good now, looking army fit, looking like one of us. Just wondering hows your head feeling?” asked daniel dumbly, pointing to his head. Colton then began trying to remember things, but he couldn’t remember anything. He knew he had lost something but what?

“What’s happening to me? Why can’t I remember anything?” cried Colton.

“You had too much smart stuff Colton, so we had to bring you down to our level. It also ensures you ain’t going to college, oh no you gonna be stuck here with us in the US army bro,” Daniel explained

“ONE OF US” chanted the others  

“If you want to try and save something I’ll tell you how you’re losing your brains. It’s your cock Colton, leaking out all your brains. You can try and stop it, but you won’t, you can’t,”

Colton’s cock continued to flood his jock with cum, before evaporating into thin air.  Colton began grabbing at his crotch, trying to grasp it and stop the cum falling out. He had it for a while, but the cum still flowed like a rapid river. He felt as more of his brains faded from his mind.  He then tried to get into his trousers to grabs his cock and stop it, but the pants were too tight, coupled with the shirt being tucked into too, it was almost impossible to get in them. Colton fell back onto the floor, the others laughed and grinned, but Colton was defeated. The last of his brains, including his own name, was lost.

Daniel stood there; he took out a cap and went to speak.

“Col…” He paused for a moment before his grin became gained a hint of evil.

“Cody, what you doing on the floor you big idiot?” He joked as he walked up to him. Cody knew he should be scared of him, but not why. He backed into a corner, but two guys behind him picked him up, though instead of restraining him they put their muscular arms around him.

“Cody, you dropped your hat as well, hold on let me get it right,” said Daniel as he fixed a camo cap on Cody’s head. As he did, Cody was flooded with new memories and reassurances. He was Cody, a dumb patriotic musclehead who was going to enlist at the end of the month like everyone else. His bro Dan, who he looked up to immensely as the alpha of the group, was making sure everyone at school was enlisting like him. Cody smiled as his new life formed in his head. He put his arms around his new bro’s.

“Sorry bro, I don’t know what’s been up with me today,” he replied

“No worries bro, we should get back out there, I think there are two or three nerds who need reassurance for enlisting. What’s say we go and pay ‘em a visit,” Dan asked

Cody nodded like a dumb obedient soldier to Daniel, which is all he would be doing for the near future.

G’day :) I wanted to challenge myself so I entered the TF Story Exchange to force myself to write something. The author I got for the exchange was @jockifyme​ so please enjoy. I hope I met your requirements @jockifyme​ .

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I’m an accountant and sometimes we audit High Schools. We make sure that the donations or funds received go places they should be going to, we check payroll and budget; we call it “cash stuff” in the office because “expenses” and “finances” start confusing our smaller-minded Gen Z workers.

From that “defame our younger generation” comment alone, you should be able to tell that I am older – not too much but I feel myself reaching the other end of my thirties really quickly. Luckily, the stresses of older age haven’t touched me too much; I have my curly brown hair, though it is fading in colour just like my eyes which used to be emerald, now swamp. Got my height from my mum, she was six-three and she gave me my current six-one. Got my metabolism (or lack thereof) from my dad whose genes garunteed no weight would be gained – I was skinny, a measly one-forty pounds.

The lights in the schools office behind reception showed my touch-of-sunburn off more than I wanted to, my skin naturally pale like a ghost flared up with areas of red where I misapplied my sunscreen. I, however, didn’t feel the burn so the sun must’ve been somewhat lacklustre that day. Sunburn was the last thing on my mind anyway. Numbers, numbers, numbers. I enjoyed the numbers and I did well in maths back when I was in school some blah blah blah years ago – I’d rather not say how long – and was in the top ten of students in my school who graded highly during the final exams before graduation. The only part I hated was listening to the administration guy who lightly flirted with the teachers as they walked by. They couldn’t see it but the “that dress fits nice on you” and “did you forget your glasses because those eyes are shining today” commends he has said in the past ten minutes were dangerously close to the line of being fired should someone actually pay attention to him.

I continued my counts and record-checking and, soon enough, the admin guy was talking to me about football. I never got into that kind of thing, my focus was more on work and work and work. I didn’t need to watch a bunch of men running into each other, the idea was stupid to me. Yet, despite my disinterest in the topic, the admin guy continued to drone on about it.

I looked at my watch; I had only been here for an hour. All the kids were in their classes so, gladly, I decided to quickly take a break and get a drink. Stupidly, I forgot my water bottle and I didn’t want to deal with more dead conversation from the admin guy and, as I recalled, I remembered there being a bubbler/water fountains near the building facing the oval. With a quick “I’ll be back” to the admin guy, and a swift exit, I was out the door and headed towards the oval, a quick hello and hi to some teachers passing or students that were supposed to be in class. Reaching the bubbler, there was footsteps nearby and voices loudly talking. I leaned down, pulled the lever and started drinking, footsteps getting closer. The closer it got, the more I heard the topic of conversation.

‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do, man,’ one started. ‘Tyler’s out for the game tonight and we got no backup since Harry left.’

‘Cool it, Reid!’ another cut the first off. ‘We’ll find someone or deal with a short team no matter what coach says.’

‘Yeah, but where are we gonna find something so short notice, Jay?’ A third asked. I had become invested in the conversation that I didn’t realise that they were now walking behind me as I was still drinking from the bubbler until they stopped.

‘How about you?’ Jay asked.

It took me a minute to realise he was talking to me. I stopped drinking and turned around and was greeted by four teens in football gear. ‘You talking to me?’

‘We are looking at you,’ pointed the fourth.

‘Smart kid, though I don’t go here clearly.’ I gestured to my whole figure, hoping they weren’t dumb enough to think I was any younger than thirty-five.

‘Not a problem with us.’ Jay, who I assumed was the leader, stepped forward. ‘I’m Jay, and these are my bros Reid, Mikey and Kyle.’ He gestured to his friends as if I was interested in knowing them. Jay was short, wide and brunette; Reid was tall, thin and blonde; Mikey was tall, tan and built; Kyle was the shortest, brunette and athletic. The group did seem like the perfect popular boys of school, they just lacked more arrogance.

‘How would you expect to fix that?’ I questioned. ‘Compared to you guys, I’m weathered. Y’all haven’t even touched hard work yet.’ That comment seemed to irritate Reid, subtly puffing his chest up.

‘Hard work? Football is full time!’ Reid arched up.

‘Reid, not another word,’ Jay snapped. ‘You’ll only scare him away, and we’re already about to get scary.’

‘Oh, I’m shaking.’ I teased before rolling my eyes and started walking back to the office.

‘Take him,’ I heard Jay mutter.

Soon, three pairs of hands were on me and started to pull at me, dragging me in the opposite direction. I started shouting to let me go and, for a moment I thought why it was suddenly so quiet at the school; no students or teachers were walking by and no one seemed to look out the windows at the commotion I was causing. No matter how much I shouted and wriggled, the guys’ strong hands had firm grips. I looked behind me to where they were dragging me and found that they were taking me to the locker rooms. They barged in, pushed me to the bench and sat me down, Reid and Kyle holding me down while Mikey went off to grab something.

‘We’re gonna make sure you’re ready for the game tonight,’ Jay said matter-of-factly.

Mikey returned with football gear which I began to question myself about how stupid they really are. Jay motioned to Reid and Kyle as Mikey came to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Without warning, Reid and Kyle started to pull at my clothes, tearing my button up off and yanking my shoes off before pulling off my pinstripes. I tried to fight back with all of my strength but Mikey was stronger than he looks, making sure to hold me in place during the process. At the end of it, I was left in my briefs.

‘Let me go you freaks!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t know what you plan on doing but it needs to end now!’

Jay motioned to the football uniform and gear and Kyle and Reid moved almost immediately. Reid began with what looked like compression shorts, sliding them up my legs until they were on properly. I felt immediate embarrassment being dressed as if I couldn’t do it myself. When the compression shorts snapped into place, my legs felt like they were burning although bearable. No sooner did my legs start burning that Kyle had put on long socks and oversized football boots, and the burning spread down until it reached my feet. My whole lower half was on fire and, sure enough, when I looked down, I saw why. My thighs started to plump up, calves sharpening and I felt my toes touch the end of the boot. Soon as that began, Reid grabbed a compression singlet and slid it over my head and over my torso, Kyle soon following with the shoulder pads.

I was panicked, my whole body starting to feel like I’d worked out for hours, and my body was catching up. My torso bulked up, a bit of muscle showing as my chest puffed up and my biceps blew up. My flexed forearms had a roadmap of veins as my increasingly meaty hands gripped firmly on the bench. I was beginning to tire myself out through all the strain and flexing I was doing due to the pain of the growth. At some point, Jay told Mikey to let me go because he knew I wasn’t going anywhere, not that I could because of the amount of pain I was in.

Soon enough, as it had started to die down, I looked over myself while out of breath and saw how toned I got. I was in shock; something completely impossible just happened. When I looked up to the group, there was glee in their eyes, but mine saw red. I had no energy to do anything, though, exhausted from the growth.

‘What the fuck did you do?’ I gasped between breaths.

‘It’s not over,’ Jay said. ‘Look at me.’

He grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at him directly in the eyes. He smiled before swiping some black paint onto my cheeks, and then he let go of my chin and stepped back. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, but it hit seconds later. I gripped my head and squeezed my eyes shut as images flashed across my vision of school, football, training, hanging out with the bros. Bros? No, I was an adult. I was here for an audit. No, that doesn’t sound right? I was on the oval with my bros talking about the game. No! The admin guy, we were talking about football while I was doing work… work? No, I was skipping class. My brain went back and forth and soon enough, the school-kid persona was taking over. All the games my bros and I played, the games we won and the after-parties we went to. My body, face, and mind were all getting younger. My hair turned a darker brown, keeping the curls, and my eyes had regained their shining emerald green. My sunburn cleared up and my skin looked tanned from spending weeks in the sun. Although keeping the muscle on, my body shrank a little and smoothed out. After all of a few minutes, my head cleared and my body no longer felt like it was burning. I felt completely painless, in fact, I had a lot of energy.

‘You good, Jack?’ asked Reid.

I looked up at the group, a brief pause before nodding my head. ‘Still mad Tyler can’t make it.’

‘Well, we gotchu at least,’ Mikey pointed out. ‘We’ll sure win tonight.’

‘We always win, bros!’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Jay cheered. ‘Now let’s get practicing! Don’t forget your jersey, Jack.’

I looked down at the bench where my jersey was. I grabbed it and slipped it on, unknowingly sealing the transformation. ‘Do we gotta wear the shoulder pads during training?’ I complained.

‘Shut up and get out there!’

You had never done anything like this before! You had always dreamed of this, but never had the courage to go through with it. This was exciting! You told everyone in the robotics lab that you needed to head home early to get ahead on your AP Calculus homework. That was a lie. You grabbed your backpack and began heading in the general direction of the exit, but you had no intention of leaving. Instead, you turned down the adjacent hallway and headed straight for the locker room. The wrestling team had just finished practice and had headed out for the day. You knew that they were gone because their deep voices resonated through the hall as they walked past the lab just a few minutes prior.

Once you reached the locker room, you breathed in the humid air: it was a mix of steam from the showers and musk. You scanned through the cubbies and found what you were hoping to find: one of the wrestlers had left their singlet.

Those dumb oafs always forgot their bags and stuff in class, so you had figured that maybe they would forget something else in the locker room, and wow you were excited at the gift they left behind for you. Picking the white fabric up, your hand instantly became damp. Damn, whoever just wore this really worked up a sweat. Lifting it to your nose, you took a deep inhale. The stench of body odor and sweat filled your senses. It was intoxicating. Your measly member began twitching at the pure manliness that was engulfing you. You contentedly unzipped your bag and placed the smelly singlet inside.

Your walk home felt like forever, but in reality was short, as you were almost running because you were so impatient for what came next. Entering your home, you beelined for your bedroom. Closing the door behind you and locking it, you ripped the still-damp singlet out of your backpack. Lifting it once again to your nose, the sweet stench was pure ecstasy. Your dick began to swell again, but instead of fighting it, you began to rub it. God, it smelled so good.

You couldn't wait to try it on.

Wild with lust, you dropped the singlet to your feet and began unclothing, nearly tripping over yourself as you lifted your hairless chicken legs through the pant legs. In an orgasmic frenzy, you ripped your shirt off, exposing your pasty, gangly torso. Finally, you reached your underpants, throwing them aside and letting your painfully erect cock bob in the open air. Lifting your legs and placing them through the singlet, you began to place the fabric over your body. It was massive. You could fit both of your legs through one pant hole, and the shoulder straps didn't hold it up, as your thin back wasn't wide enough to catch them. It didn't matter. It smelled so good. You reached around the front and found your dick and began stroking it.

The sweat imbued in the singlet began to change you. Your dick, as you rubbed, it began to thicken, growing girthier and longer, dark hair swirling over top. Your small hand stroking your new massive dick began to thicken and stretch. Each finger cracking and popping and becoming stout sausages on your hands. Your forearms tensed as they grew thick and veiny. Your biceps were pumped with both fat and muscle, growing strong and forcing your shoulders apart to accommodate the extra mass. Your armpits became forests of hair, producing the same sweet stench and sweat in the singlet that intoxicated you. Your back cracked and widened allowing the shoulder straps to hold firmly. Massive pecs pushed their way from your chest, becoming enormous mounds and forming a crevice, straining the front of the singlet, as your nipples hardened and became even more sensitive, the contact with the singlet driving your lust further. Your stomach tightened with washboard abs, only to soften as you filled out the singlet. Still jerking off through the singlet, you felt your thighs explode with muscle, squeezing your dick, and sending you further into your frenzy. Your ass swelled into two globes, the same dark hair swirling its way from your dick and covering your massive ass in hair. Your calves grew as your pace quickened. Your feet grew to size 15s. Each toe cracked and popped as your feet splayed across the floor to support your massive frame. Your feet reeked! Of course, they did, you just got back from practice.

Oh god… you were so close…

With a deep bellow, you came into your singlet. Bringing your hand to the wet spot at the front, you scooped a bit of the salty liquid and brought it to your mouth. Sucking on your finger, you moaned at the taste of your own sweat, funk, and spunk. No wonder why all of those freshmen on the team loved the taste of you. They couldn't get enough of you! You had even caught one of them taking a whiff of your singlet after you got out of the shower after practice today. That didn't bother you, though. He wasn't as big as you, but he was still muscled, hot, and his ass was just right. The glint in his eyes as you dropped the towel told you everything you needed to know. You couldn't wait for tomorrow's practice. Let's just say, it's good to be captain of the wrestling team.

“Fuck this, man. I don’t want to read subtitles”

Scott was your average American. He wasn’t too smart either. So when his roommate put on a Spanish film with subtitles, Scott rolled his eyes and immediately turned it off. Scott took the disc out of the DVD player and chucked it out the widow. But what Scott didn’t know was, the DVD was actually cursed.

Over the next few weeks, Scott experienced some changes. His white complexion slowly became darker. His skin beginning to look more... tan. More hispanic. But Scott was oblivious to the change. He just thought he was getting a good tan. He had been playing football with his bros in the sun after all.

Scott’s body had gotten bigger too. His muscles slowly grew over the weeks. The growth was noticeable. Scott’s lean body had gotten bulkier. His lean pecs jutted out becoming big and round. His biceps became as big as a body builder’s. But Scott wasn’t going to complain. He was starting to get bigger than all his bros. Anyway, it’s probably cause he’s been spending so much time in the gym, right?

Scott’s body hair progressively got darker and thicker over the weeks. He would try and shave it off, but his body hair would just grow back throughout the day. He would shave his face in the morning only to have a full thick beard in the evening. His once hairless chest had grown a thick pelt. His shaved armpits now covered in hair.

Scott dismissed it. Maybe it was just all that testosterone in his body. Scott only started to worry when strangers began to assume he was hispanic. Store clerks would talk to him in Spanish. The girls he went on dates would often ask when he moved to America. Scott was always offended by these assumptions. He was as American as they come, right? How could anyone mistake him for some hispanic?

On the third week of the curse, everything changed. Scott woke up unable to speak a word of English. He screamed and shouted in his new Spanish accent. His mind began to be erased. It emptied and emptied until he couldn’t even remember his own name. Scott stood mindlessly in his room. His new big hulking hairy body stagnant as he stared vacantly at the empty wall. His face relaxed. His jaw hanging open. Suddenly, Scott began moaning. His mind being filled with memories. New memories. Memories of a life in Mexico. All memories of every having ever lived in America were wiped from his mind. All he remembered is that his name was Juan. He was born in Mexico City. He’s always had dreams of moving to America. But he just can’t bring himself to do it. He loves Mexico too much. Juan’s surroundings shifted into a cheap dirty apartment in Mexico City. His wardrobe began to change, filling itself with Mexican attire.

Juan was ready to begin his life. He confidently strode out of his bedroom. He looked at the TV to see that a Spanish film was playing. The same Spanish film from his past life. Juan grinned.

“¡Mi película favorita!” Juan laughed.

Scott definitely won’t be needing any Spanish subtitles anymore.

It’s the big day of the game. Ryan woke up feeling pumped for the big game against the rival baseball team. Upon opening his eyes, he felt a bit disoriented and confused. He looked down and saw that he was in someone else’s bed, surrounded by unfamiliar posters. Panicked, Ryan tried to get up and get his bearings, but he stumbled and nearly fell. He looked down and saw that he was in a completely different body – a lean, muscular body in a white jockstrap and long white socks. Ryan’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what was going on. He had no memory of how he got here or why he was in someone else’s body. He stumbled out of the bed and made his way to the floor mirror in the room, where he saw a stranger’s face staring back at him in the mirror. He knew that face – it was Jake, the star player of the rival team. Ryan’s heart raced as he realized that he had somehow bodyswapped with Jake.

As Ryan looked at Jake’s face in the mirror, a flood of memories and emotions came rushing back. He remembered the intense rivalry between their teams, the trash talk and the tension on the field. He remembered the way Jake had always seemed to get under his skin, with his cocky attitude.  But now, as Ryan looked at Jake’s face, he couldn’t help but feel a strange connection to him. His eyes wandered down to see Jake’s package in the jockstrap. He turned around to show his plump new ass outlined in the jock and powerful legs. 

“Damn, Jake. I didn’t know you had this juicy piece of ass.”

As he looked at Jake’s face in the mirror, Ryan couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of attraction. He had always thought of Jake as an adversary, someone he had to beat.. But now, as he looked at Jake’s muscular body. Ryan couldn’t deny that he was attracted to him.

He ran his hands over his butt and began to make his way to his hole. As soon as his finger entered his hole, he moaned in pleasure. The sound of Jake’s voice and moans was driving Ryan crazy. His cock got immediately hard in his jock. He began to stroke as he was fingering himself in his new body. Ryan looked in the mirror at his once rival in total ecstasy. Ryan could feel an explosion of cum about to be released from Jake’s cock. He stroked harder and faster as fountains of white cum splattered all over the mirror. 

“Fuck, dude.” He said to himself in Jake’s voice. He collected himself, controlling his breathing and heard his alarm go off. 

Musky and stained clothes? In a thrift store? That's odd, I most definitely didn't do that. Someone must have put them there precisely for someone to find them... Quite curious about what hides behind that. A wifebeater and sweatpants, both definitely a few sizes too big for you, what a weird combo.

Oh, putting them on already? I would have done the same, I'm curious as to what will even happen to you.

Authors note: this was a comm from a while ago! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you want anything similar please feel free to hit me up!! DMs are always open! We also have a Patreon that gives everyone access to the discord where you can get everything first before anyone else! ___________________

God I hated my Brother, he was such a lil dick he keeps driving me crazy.

Maybe it was just the fact that I was having a bad day already or maybe he had just finally crossed the line. But I have had it up to here with my uptight goody two shoes brother Philip. Ever since we had gotten the new place I thought we would have finally had enough space to ourselves to relax, to chill without any of the overbearing bullshit of our family. That I could actually get to know my perfect older brother without his well fitted shirts and his tight slacks that left little to the imagination with his round ass and thunder thighs. But it turns out that when your brother grows up an academic book worm he stays that way in college with you and prioritizes a clean cut image at his fancy job when he could really be sitting back with me, pants unbuttoned and watching a game or two.

He would normally tell me I was letting myself go, just because I wasn't super hygienic and was super musky after all my workouts (I hate the gym showers can you blame me) and I would drink a beer or two every night didn't mean I was letting myself go. Just meant I was being free and he should try it too. Maybe it would put some damn meat on his bones and he wouldn't look so frail.

I just wish that if he was going to be such a buzz kill that he wouldn't touch my shit. Sure it wasn't properly organized and it was thrown out around the place haphazardly with clothes on crowded surfaces but I know where my shit is. He had a whole cleaning spree when I was out at the club and now I have no clue where my laptop is. I checked all my normal spots I emptied out every storage space it's just fucking gone and I'm furious.

So I went snooping around our place, it was just a two bedroom so I had some decent idea where to go and our layout. But what I wasn't expecting was a closet door between our rooms with an antique trimmed door waiting to be opened. My hand is pulling on the knob before I even know what I'm doing. This wasn't there, this has NEVER been here and there's not enough space for it.

So why was I being every dumbass white person in a horror movie, why were my eyes wide open as it revealed itself to just have a shelf with a single baseball cap. It had this insignia of a fucked up baseball glove. I even asked myself why I picked it up even though it looked like an old cursed or possessed article of clothing with an aura of foreboding but it was simple. I had a thought I knew to be absolutely certain and absolutely not my own, that that door was a door that only shows up when it's needed and that this hat would fix my bro for good.

I just had to get him to put it on and wear it which wouldn't be too hard. My brother would be tired after coming home from class. He'd sit down on the couch and that's when i’d strike. He wouldn’t see it coming, he’d be too tired to even really be upset about how I tore apart our place, just sat with his back to me. So I sat in my room waiting, my cock getting hard at the thought of the power I held, the idea of corrupting my brother, showing him the good life, what he was denying himself.

It wasn’t long before he walked in, sighing dramatically, through the cracked door I could see him run a hand through his perfectly blonde, combed hair. Adjusting his stupid tie he didn't need. He carefully set his bag on the counter, the satchel neatly placed, while his steps forward were all deliberate, his shoes already off.

When he sat down I struck, jumping through the door prepared for anything. I saw him jump, startled at the noise but before he can say anything, do anything I slap it down, his eyes going wide behind his glasses, at first in fear but it quickly transfers to bliss. 

“Ty..Tyler what what was that for!” he says, biting back a moan as I walk around the couch to look at him, the hat starting to shimmer. His body  twitches, his limbs seem to scramble for a second, arms shaking and legs spasming. He tries to reach up to the cap, maybe to pull it off but his fingers just wont listen, his twig like arms struggling to stay up as magic PULSES through him.

“Nothing bro, just figured you could finally relax a little. Get your head out of your ass and into what did you call my baseball caps last time?” I say smirking, enjoying his struggle, the way his body was fidgeting.

He says something but I ignore it, babbling about how this wasn’t funny. “Oh yeah get your head out of your ass and into one of those lazy douchebag hats I'm always wearing!” The word douchebag echoes out of my mouth and the magic ball cap starts to turn. Its brim, which was facing forward, started slowly ticking back. 

“No, Ty..Tyler bro- fuck I don’t say- Tyler stop this, its doi..doin somethin BRO!” His controlled, always frowning, smarmy face relaxing, taking on a dopey grin, he never said the word bro, never was chilled, this was all so new and so fuckin hot. His voice cracking slightly and Phillip’s flailing arms collapsing onto the couch with a thud. The hat was only a quarter of the way when I saw his body start to squirm under his already well tailored clothes.

Another PULSE shot through him, centered around his face and head, his hair going from well manicured, clean and soft to this frizzy, unmanaged greasy pile of curls and sweat. His brow furrowed, the bone underneath strengthening and pushing outward giving his once sharp feminine face an immediate masculine touch, his eyes glazing over  as his nose grew stronger, facial hair sprouting forming a chinstrap as his jaw became square, chiseled and his lips plumped up into these perfect kissable DSL’s.

His face was no longer this smooth, cute academic, it looked like a jock, a dumb meatheaded jock.

PULSE

The hat was glowing Brighter “Bro..Bro Ty its, its so warm BRO, its takin.. Taking my brain bro.” The pulse moved down his neck, his adams apple growing, his neck thickened. The hat using his brain as fuel, his personality being eaten away. His shoulders broadening, his collar, the seams of his shirt straining. The jacket burst when it got to his arms, the muscle breaking the fabric, it dematerialized, his button down strains further as his pecs explode, becoming this sturdy meaty slabs, but the final straw is his muscle gut that forms, or as he would call it, a beer belly. Memories of my lil bro keeping himself trim, doing cardio are replaced with late night parties, beer runs and keg stands. The shirt is torn to pieces becoming a beat up, smelly stained white tank. 

PULSE

Reality was being rewritten, Phil was begging for it to stop as his hands became this rough mitts made for grabbing beers, lifting weights and slapping asses. But that begging became moaning as pleasure rippled through him, these deep guttural groans of pleasure like an animal in heat.The hat was more then halfway now His legs were next, the thighs that were almost non existent became thunder thighs from all the heavy lifting, his calves were carved into diamonds even with him sitting on the couch watching tv a lot more recently. He was thrusting up into the air, his glutes packing on fat and muscle became perfect for worshipping

PULSE

It was almost done, the hat was almost all the way backwards, its energy shining horrendously bright as my memory of Phillip was erased, gone for good. The uptight brother I wrongfully resented for wanting what was best for me was replaced with Phil, a hard core horny ex jock who leers at you. Memories of him bossing you around, making suggestive comments about using your mouth and muscled ass. Spanking you when you’d walk by, whistling when it would recoil. I was forced to watch as my wish was twisted and his hard, veiny cock grew through his pants, becoming a monster 12 inches that BEGGED for attention, his balls filled to the brim with cum.

PULSE

My eyes were blinking rapidly, the house changed, no longer freakishly organized everywhere even with the mess I made earlier. It was a messy bachelor pad, underwear and dirty clothes everywhere, beer cans on the ground, pizza boxes spread out. Phillips' satchel was replaced with a different alcohol bottle on the counter Phil had already gone through. Our entire dynamic erased and rewritten, my desire corrupted, the hat was was a fucked up jock monkey’s paw.

PULSE

The hat was fully twisted around, our fate was sealed and it was only partial 

The tv was on, hard core gay porn was playing on the tv and Phil’s cock was throbbing, he was lightly moving his hand up and down, teasing it. “Yo Bro, wanna come jerk it while this himbo gets his ass pounded!” Phil says, cock leaking precum, getting slicker making it easier for his hands to slide up and down. His breath was hitching as he kept going.

I made a face immediately, grossed out at the offer, my sex obsessed, pervert brother absolutely disgusting to me. “Nah Bro, you know this isn’t my thing!” i didn’t want to start a fight, i didnt want him in here bossing me around.

“Whats not to like Bro, theres something so HOT about a big dumb Himbo bouncing up and down on a cock, pecs jiggling, eyes crossed, only thinking about how to make his top feel good!” Bro moved one of his hands under his wife beater, tweaking one of his nipples as he got off. His eyes were staring right at me now, not at the porn, leering at me at my body, like he was talking about me. I don't notice him grab the hat.with the other hand, how he carefully holds it just off his head, waiting to strike if I say the wrong thing. I’m to angry, too pumped up.

“I’m not into that shit bro, especially not with you, go take your dick and find a dumb ditzy himbo who will actually like sucking it!” Its said out of rage, out of anger, and disgust. But even if I didn’t hate my Bro Phil and how commanding he could be. How he would always try and pull shit like this, try and proposition me or leer at me, I just didn’t want to do any of that with my brother.

It was Phil’s turn to strike, He leapt to his feet quicker than I thought he could. His hat already off his head, a giant evil smirk across his face as he plopped it down on my shorter frame. It all happened at once, so fast so quick I couldn’t get out of the way and I definitely couldn’t get it off of me as I felt it CINCH around my forehead sticking to my head.

“Your right Bro, i do need myself a DUMB DITZY HIMBO, who will LOVE SUCKING AND SERVING MY COCK!” his voice echoes as he lightly strokes his massive cock, worry fills my head as I see out of the corners of my eye a dark sickly green glow emanate from the hat, the world slows down.

The first PULSE hit me like a freight train, my skin felt like it was on fire across my body, my semi pale, acne scarred body was WASHED clean, taking on this deep rich tan. My facial and body hair being lasered off by magic and any and all flaws disappeared as if I had been photoshopped. I watched as my bro circled around me, whistling at the first change. 

Another PULSE, this one deeper in my head, the hat began to tick, and as it ticked and rotated I felt a sucking sensation start in my brain, my thoughts slowing down man, becoming harder to think or focus. Another PULSE, My face taking on this look of a dumb innocent jock, lips becoming thicker, just like my BRO’s great DSL’s to suck hi- what the fuck i would never GET DOWN ON MY KNEES AND HOOVER AWAy- I dont think that way BRO, thats my Brother. But this new hunger, this desire to lick along his shaft, eyes glazed over as my tongue gently traces its way around the tip before my lips engulf him. The idea of him grabbing me by my new platinum blonde hair as he fills the hunger that finds itself forming all the way down my throat, that can only be satisfied by his length and his cum.

 My jawline was more chiseled and my cheekbones got higher. My hair took on this bright Platinum blonde while my eyebrows were perfectly tweezed into a nice arch.

PULSE

My body was hit with mass, my neck thickening, shoulders broadening, chest being made into this perfect set of Pillows for my brother to tease and play with while I sucked him off or bounced up and down on his massive coc- fuck no the hat was about a quarter of the way and as it sucked out all my intelligence, free will and identity, so that it could replace it all with him, serving him, his massive body. Doing whatever he told me so I could deep throat his cock, feel it fill my empty tight hole. I felt my arms expand, becoming the perfect gym bunny arms, biceps that bulged like mountains, sturdy triceps and wrists that made my meaty hands all the more stable.

PULSE

God Why wasn’t I on my knees RIGHT NOW. Fuck its progressing further, need to get this stupid- AMAZING hat off me. I felt my core tremble as abs cobbled themselves together, my waist tightening giving me this Dorito shape before my hips exploded outwards.I had this perfect V, a slutty waist for my brother to grab me by, to bend me over and hold onto while he fucked me silly. 

PULSE

It was almost halfway turned around, burning brighter, my head on fire as it fried my brain for all it was worth, I felt it looking around for more fuel, it didn't have much brains to work with like Phillip so it started to creep down my body, sneakily snaking through me. Phil was walking around me when I felt it, him SLAPPING my ass, causing what once used to honestly be kinda flat because I skipped Leg day, to RIPPLE. That warm energy SURGING, becoming a fiery heat as my ass piled on the perfect ration of fat and muscle. These two massive globes looked like a shelf, from every angle they were noticeable, I would never be able to hide them. WHY WOULD WE WANT TO!!! These big bouncy cheeks are gonna make bro so happy I cant wait for him to give them a quick swat, or to gyrate on his lap getting him nice and har- No I’m not some cock obsessed himbo.

The energy spread further in, diving between the cheeks, I felt my hole TWITCH. That PULSE from before was nothing, this one, this felt like 8 of them going off all at once, I lost my footing as my ass clenched, my hands grabbing onto Phil as my eyes rolled back. My hole, god it was empty, so fucking empty, empty empty empty, i needed it filled, I needed cock, fuck I needed phils cock so bad. I didn't care that I would never have wanted it before, didn't care that this didn't sound like me, the only thing I cared about was his hard, slick cock thrusting in and out of me.

Making this bouncy bubble butt took a lot of energy, fuel, essence and it needed to burn something else, something substantial, something I used. So when the hat finally found it, it wrapped around it, engulfing it in the same fiery PULSE as my cheeks, I felt it, I felt my cock shrink. My once decent six inches, my pride and joy I used for conquests, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch was shrunk down to a tiny nub.I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting in the air, my balls which would have swung wildly dwindled down, useless no longer important. Neither body part had use, all my pleasure was focused on my ass, tits and mouth. Why would I need a dicklet when I had big bros to play with?

I felt another PULSE , my legs becoming strong, sturdy, able to hold myself in any position Bro would want me in, my flexibility increasing all over my body as I became the perfect fucktoy for Phil to use however he wanted, whenever he wanted. God I just wanted him, no I NEEDED him to want me and didn’t care what it took to please him, I would do it.

I had one last thought that I knew was mine, Tyler, not Ty’s, staring up at Phi, this man who was the peak of masculinity in my eyes, his beer belly out and proud, flexing his arms in a double bicep pose making my already horny mind race at the thought of the musk to worship in those hairy, sweaty pits. My mouth partially opened, pouting begging for his cock as it swung back and forth, drips of pre cum oozing out of his cock and onto my face. It was that I hated Phil, that I wanted Phillip, my annoying uptight brother, I guess you don't really know what you have till you lose it to a magical reality manipulating hat that feeds off of intelligence and cock size.. PULSE

God my Brother was so hot and strong, I love when he would command me to do things. Today were gonna be watching the game, but right now he is seeing how much precum he can paint with my face. His cock leaks it like a faucet and its like the hottest thing ever my god I just want to be covered in it. Some people used to say he was overbearing and commanding but I always found Big bro to be SOOOO HOT.

“Yeah, that's a good boy! So cute with your backwards cap on!” My eyes are following after his cock as it swings over my head, his balls hitting my chin. I feel his hand push the cap further down on my head, scrambling my brain one last time, burning up the last reality till I was just an empty headed himbo that needed both his holes filled.

“Even cuter when your eyes follow after my cock!” He does a quick dip/squat his cock swinging into the right side of my face, his precum and sweat glazing my face as he does, my mouth follows after trying to get it in there. 

“You are so fucking cock hungry its adorable bro, tell me how badly you need my cock!” he says quickly hitting the other side, my lips are almost able to kiss the side of his dick as it swings.

“Please Big Bro, i need your cock so bad, I’m so hungry Bro, im just a cock hungry slut for you bro please fill me up I’ll do anything!” I beg, my hands grabbing his legs, my ass jiggling as I plead with him. I see him stare at me with the predator like hunger, his hand squishing the hat on my hair one last time before ripping it off and throwing it behind him. It faded out of existence like it was never there. His other hand quickly ran through my lush platinum hair before grabbing it and holding it still.

“Okay boy, since your such a good, dumb, cock hungry slut, I’ll give it to you but only because you asked so nicely!” He has the widest grin on his face as he brings his cock down to my lips, smearing more precum across them as I greedily lap it all up. My tongue rolling around the tip of his dick as he lightly applies pressure to my face. I moan just thinking about what happens next.

“Open up and take it like the bitch you are!” He commands and I listen. He’s not gentle, why would Big Bro be anyway, he thrusts in, all the way. I love that Phil fucked my gag reflex away with his amazing fuckstick months ago. To feel him go from his tip ALL the way down to the root of his cock in one fluid motion was divine, my eyes rolled back as I felt his pubes smash against my face, his hands on the back of my head now grabbing fistsfulls of hair while he moaned. The smell of his musk, the feeling of it all happening so suddenly, overwhelms me and I can’t stop myself from jumping off the edge, eyes rolling back as my tiny dick fires shot after shot. 

He tsks through light laughter and wags a finger in the air, pulling his cock out halfway, and so quickly that hunger that he had satisfied with plunging all the way down returning, eating away at me. “So hungry you can’t control yourself slut, fuuuck i’m gonna have so much fun tonight!” he says, he quickly slaps one of my cheeks, a quick surge of pleasure floods me as I feel them both shake, he whistles before plunging his cock back in.

I can hear the game going on in the back, his thrusts are fast but even, his balls slapping into my neck. Hearing him talk about some stupid guy named Tyler, how he was happy he could finally get everything he wanted, a bitch to clean up after him, take care of his cock and not make any mess. That some stupid hat was the best thing that happened to either of us.

The sweat from his beerbelly his hot and heavy, soaking through my hair and forehead, his smell ingrained in my mind as an aphrodisiac. My hands move up and down his body, worshipping it like the god he is. His own cheeks clapping with every thrust as he takes exactly what he wants. I hear cheering from the game, someone is apparently near the end zone, Phil is getting faster, his hands are a bit rougher as he’s getting closer. Almost at the edge.

My stomach feels so full from his precum, my throat trying to swallow more and more of him as he skull fucks me silly. I’m so close again, his moans were getting louder, telling me how I was such a good boy for milking his cock. That I had to get ready to take it all, swallow all of his cum, to be his good lil bitch and that praise, that encouragement was all I needed to have my second hands free orgasm this time around. The thought of him painting my throat white making me throw my head back as he thrusts into my puffy, hungry lips.

“Here…here,...It comess you DUMB HIMBO!” he shouts as the screen yells touch down, he rapidly does three more smaller thrusts as he fores not one, two or three loads, five all down my throat.

“Now be a good bitch and get me a beer!” He says pulling out of my mouth with a plop and playfully slapping my face. 

God I loved My Big Bro and his massive cock so much, it drives me crazy!

It was a rite of passage at McKinley High. Once a football jock turned eighteen, he was given a tape from Coach to watch, alone. There were always rumors about what exactly was on those tapes, but considering he hadn’t been criminally investigated yet, it wasn’t something awful or illegal. Bruce Hankersten was pumped to be the next to receive the video. He had his birthday over the weekend, and as he hoped, Coach pulled him aside after practice was over. 

“My office, Hank, now.” Coach had nicknames for all of his players, and poor Bruce had a nickname that was an actual name. He had gotten used to it over the past four years, and so happily followed Coach to the office. There, the pudgy and sweaty older man opened one of the file cabinets in the room, one that had two separate locks on it. “Do you have a VCR at home?”

“A what!?” Bruce asked his coach. He had thought he heard that term before, but regardless, Coach sighed and brought out a DVD. 

“Plop this in and watch it every night. And remember, watch it alone, or I’ll know you didn’t.” Much like with the contents, the seniors didn’t know why they had to watch it alone, and how Coach would know. Bruce took the DVD and plopped it on the top of his gym bag before driving home. Unlike with some other seniors, Bruce was lucky. He was an only child, and both of his parents travelled for work most days. Yes, he usually did host the parties, but there were none tonight. 

He plopped down onto the couch as the DVD whirred in the player. As he expected, there were no warning screens and shit, but there was a scene selection. Bruce was shocked Coach even knew how to do that. Regardless, he clicked on day one, and the film began to roll. Coach showed up on the screen, sitting on his desk. 

“If you’re watching this, you must be over 18. Welcome to the life of a man. This video will need to be watched every day. Remember, I’ll know if you don’t.” Coach then paused as he took a necklace out of his shirt pocket. “Now I’m going to swing the pendant back and forth. I want you to stare at it, and only focus your attention on that. If you don’t, I’ll know.” 

Bruce gulped as Coach began swinging the pendant. This was a little weird, but he heard some horror stories about the guys who didn’t watch the tapes. “Stare at the pendant, jock boy. Focus all of your attention on my pendant. Nothing else matters in life but listening to my voice and watching this pendant swing back and forth. Clear your mind of all thoughts and just focus on my voice and the pendant.” 

Coach went on like this for a few minutes, repeating himself over and over again to drill it into the jock’s mind. A half hour or so later, he finally switched it up. “When you see me tomorrow for the first time, you will mention dandruff to let me know that you have listened to the entirety of the tape.” The video then finished and cut to static, bringing Bruce out of it. 

“Shit!” he said to himself, not remembering what was on the video at all! Coach usually didn’t ask too many questions, so he hoped that he was good. Bruce did throw a massive party Saturday night, and slept through most of Sunday. He was shuffling around school on Monday when he passed by Coach in the hall. 

“Hey, my dandruff is cleared up!”

“Good to know,” Coach replied, with a genuine smile. Bruce found the statement pretty weird. He had never even seen one flake shake out of his hair before! He thought nothing of it, and got through the rest of the school day and practice just fine. Homework was light that night, and his parents still weren’t back yet. So, he popped in the DVD and started to play day two of the video. 

Coach was sitting on his desk again, only this time, the pendant was already in his hand. Bruce went under again, but this time, Coach only repeated the mantra few times before issuing him his next command. “After your next day of practice, you will offer to clean up the locker room. You will notice some cleats left behind, and you will sniff them. I will know you have done this as you will bring them to me, but not before taking a sniff from them in my presence.” That was repeated a couple times, as it was a bit complex, and then the same thing happened as Friday night. 

Bruce was once again worried Coach would be angry at him, but he actually didn’t ask about the DVD yet, so Bruce was in the clear. The next day, even though practice was grueling, and Bruce just wanted a nap, he offered to stay behind and help clean up the locker room. His teammates left their dirty socks and jockstraps everywhere, and Bruce even noticed someone left their fucking cleats! As he picked them up to give them to Coach, he was met with a whiff of foot odor. To Bruce’s surprise, he found he loved the scent!

His cock was starting to get hard, but he rushed to Coach’s office to give them to him, still knowing it was weird to get hard from this. However, he didn’t realize that he took one final deep sniff of the cleats before handing them to Coach. Coach had a weird smile on his face, but Bruce didn’t think too much of it. He just wanted to get out of there and hid the fact sniffing shoes turned him on. He had no time to watch the video for the next couple of days, and Coach never bitched at him about it. He wondered why it was so bad and feared. 

Thursday was the next day he could watch, and day three’s video started the same way as day two. Bruce was quickly brought under, even though he didn’t know he was. “Good jock boy. Recently, you have found out that sniffing cleats brings you erotic pleasure. Well, I would like you to kick it up a notch. See me tomorrow to grab some cleats to take home.” It was only repeated once before the cut to static. 

After practice, Bruce had to wait for Coach to give another senior his tape before entering. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assured his nervous teammate as he entered the room. 

“Here for your cleats?”

“Yes, Coach!” Bruce didn’t find the question odd, even though he was already wearing his own cleats. 

“Here they are. I’ve been wearing them since the last person to hit day three. They fucking reek!” Both men chuckled, and Bruce still didn’t find the conversation odd in the slightest. That night he had to finish an essay, and even if he did, his parents dropped in for the evening. Friday was the next day he was able to watch the video, and by this point, Coach had just started swinging the pendant even before the camera was rolling. 

“At this point, I bet you have been jerking yourself off while deeply inhaling the odor of the cleats. Now I want you to put one shoe on your cock, and jerk off while smelling the other cleat. I want you to cum into one of them and bring it to me.” As this next step was the most unnatural yet, Coach repeated it a few times to make sure it sunk in. However, all Bruce needed to do was listen to it once, and mindlessly stroked his cock with the cleat hanging from the tip of it. 

The next day, he called up Coach and asked if he could do a Saturday one-on-one practice with him. Coach readily accepted, but Bruce just really wanted to show him the dirty cleats, with his caked-on cum inside. Coach was very happy to see them, and for the first time, acknowledged the video watching. 

“I see you’ve been keeping up with the videos, Bruce. What’s coming up next is exciting.”

As Bruce learned later that night, Coach had a very devious plan up his sleeves. After taking one pair of cummed-on cleats for himself, he forced each of his football jocks to cum into even more cleats, which he would sell to perverted men who wanted these types of things. A few players, including Bruce, even went on to camming live, ejaculating into the cleats for even more people to see. 

“Can’t get in without a costume,” the bouncer said. He crossed his arms over his meaty chest.

“Cowboy,” Jason argued as he pointed to his hat and boots. He’d had them for decades since he’d moved out of Texas and just decided to try them on again. Same with his plaid shirt and jeans.

The bouncer rolled his eyes. “Not enough. Can’t get in without a costume,” he repeated.

“How’s cowboy not enough?” Jason argued.

“First off? Cause you don’t look like one. Jeans and a hat don’t make you a cowboy. Second? Cause I don’t like you,” the bouncer’s eyes narrowed.

“What the fuck did I do?” Jason demanded. He’d been coming to this bar for a few months now, but didn’t feel like he’d pissed anyone off that much. Sure, he’d gotten a bit rowdy when no one would go home with him, but he’d never left with a fight or anything. Just a few loud choice words that might have started a fight if he wasn’t so sloshed that he could barely stand up.

Again, the bouncer rolled his eyes. “How bout this?” He dug into a bag next to him and pulled out a werewolf mask. “You put this on and promise to be a good boy and I’ll let you in. Deal?”

Jason stared at the mask. “Deal,” he snatched it out of the bouncer’s hand and put it on. “Good?” Then felt his cowboy hat placed back onto his head.

“Good,” he said moving out of the way so Jason could go inside.

“Asshole…” Jason muttered under his breath as he headed inside. The entire bar was pumping and there was barely any room to move around. It was one of the reasons that Jason hated wearing masks like this. They were always so stuffy and near impossible to see out of. “Watch where you’re going,” he snapped.

The girl gave him a side eye and kept walking. “Bitch,” he muttered. He pulled at the mask a bit. Somehow it was feeling even stuffier than it had been just a few minutes before. He hated this constricting feeling. Pulling at it only seemed to make it even worse.

Even stranger was the weird feeling throughout the rest of his body. The drink had run down his shirt, but somehow it felt constricting all over his body. He pulled at that as well, trying to loosen up the fabric. “This fucking sucks,” he could feel sweat starting to drip down his brow as he complained. Really it was his whole body was burning up.

“What the hell?” he demanded to no one in particular. Instead he undid a button on his shirt. But as he looked back up an anger shot through him. Someone else was dressed just like his cowboy; plaid button down, jeans, boots and a hat. “Yo,” he walked over to the other guy and put a hand on his shoulder.

The guy spun around, but shrunk back in on himself as he saw Jason. It was a bit odd as Jason never thought of himself as that big of a guy. Sure 6’ wasn’t small, but it’s not like he worked out like crazy. He just had fairly average physique. “Yo?” the guy almost squeaked.

“The bouncer let you in but not me? What the hell?” Jason cursed.

“Bouncer?” the guy looked up at him, confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. The bouncer,” Jason spat back. He looked back at the front door, noticing no one there. “Fuck. You’ve gotta be kidding me. I put this stupid shit on for no reason? Fuck this.” He pulled the mask off his face and felt a cool breeze run across his face.

‘A deal’s a deal,’ he heard whispered into his ear.

Something about his body suddenly felt off. He was sweating but felt indescribably cold. His muscles felt tired and weak but more like he’d just finished a grueling workout than from anything else. The clothes he was wearing felt incredibly tight. Tighter than they ever had been.

“Bro? You alright?”

It was like the world was starting to spin. Jason was looking down, even further at the man in front of him. The guy looked so small all of a sudden. “Ye-ah…” Jason let the word fall out of his mouth. He stumbled over himself as he beelined it too the bathroom. His body felt different. He couldn’t place it.

“What the hell?” he felt himself growl as he splashed water on his face. It barely seemed to do anything as he still felt the sudden hot flash run through his entire body. Jason looked up at his face in the mirror. His mouth hung open as he saw what color his eyes were. Bright yellow. His hands went to his face, but sharp black claws were protruding out of his fingers.

Thick black fur had run down his fingers and covered his hands. He could see black paw pads starting to emerge from his palms and the tips of each of his fingers. He let out a few whimpers as the bones in his body started to crack and grow. His shoulders jutted upward and widened giving him a much wider frame. The sleeves of his long sleeve shirt didn’t stand a chance as thick muscular arms tore the fabric off his arms.

Brown fur continued to climb up his arms and cover his body. Jason scratched at it, accidently ripping open his shirt in the process. Two massive pecs bounced out of his body and the light pudge he’d been gaining since he’d hit thirty had turned into an impressive six pack. The brown fur only seemed to make it look even more defined as it cascaded in between the muscles.

His jeans couldn’t contain the enormous muscles building underneath them. They started with small tears and then just ripped down the sides. His body fell forward as the bones in his feet shifted. The weight of his body was more on his toes than it had been on the balls of his feet. He fell forward as massive black claws burst out of his leather boots. The bones in his feet cracked and snapped as they shifted more into wolf paws the size of 16 sized shoes. The boots were crushed under their colossal size.

Jason let out gasps for air as the pain shot through him. He snapped his jaw feeling the immense pressure of it starting to grow out in front of him. His nose bent backwards and turned black. Huge, sharp teeth filled his mouth and a louder snap with each closing of his jaws echoed off the empty bathroom. The round shape of his ears turned into points then migrated to the top of his head.

All he could make were deep primal grunts as he felt a sharp pain down his back side. His spine was elongating past his body and brown fur started to cover the new appendage. Jason tried to make words but the shape of his mouth and tongue made it near impossible. He looked at his wolf form, a bit of fear in his eyes. Even if as he stood at a new 7’6” height with muscles bodybuilders would dream of, he couldn’t understand what had happened.

“All you had to do was be a good boy and leave the mask on,” a familiar voice echoed in his ears. Jason turned to see the bouncer. “Of course I knew you couldn’t. Oh well.”

Jason turned his anger to the bouncer, snarling. His sharp teeth showed.

“Stop.” Instantly Jason felt his face go back to normal. “Sit.” His large body dropped to the floor, hands placed between his paws. “Good boy,” the bouncer pet his head. Jason felt his tail start wagging. Confusion hit him as he tried to figure out why he couldn’t disobey, but the pleasant feeling of the praise washed it away. “Now. Let’s go home… I got a nice new collar for you.” The bouncer pulled out a spiked collar with a leash attached to it. He snapped his fingers and a red portal appeared in the bathroom.

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Carson hated going home for the holidays. He was young, skinny, popular, and absolutely killing it in New York City. His life had improved tenfold since leaving the small country town he’d grown up in, and going back only reminded him of all the terrible memories. The years he’d spent getting bullied for being bad at sports, for not being manly enough, and being hairless, they all rushed back to him as he was in the car from the airport. It was a long time to think about it all too, since the closest airport was two hours away. The memories of jocks ostracizing him, the years of not feeling like he belonged all flooded back, His family was excited to see him, and he made small talk during that long car ride, but he couldn’t help but feel ripped away from the world that appreciated him.

Upon reaching his old family home, he was bombarded with greetings and hugs from his entire extended family, all of which had arrived before him since they lived within ten miles of each other. After what felt like an eternity, Carson was finally freed to go up to his old room. He tossed his suitcase on the ground and flopped onto the small bed. That was an exhausting ordeal, and he had several more days of it before he could escape back to the city. After a bit of rest he rallied and headed back down to dinner, where he put up with another round of ceaseless questions about what he’d been doing all year. Some were genuine, but many felt targeted, as if he couldn’t be making an honest living and supporting himself in the city. It wasn’t worth an argument though, so he just let the attitude wash over him without response. Another eternity later, he ducked out to his room again, promptly falling asleep after a long flight and even longer day.

The next day was Christmas, and the noise of a dozen relatives chatting downstairs quickly woke him.. He quickly showered and put himself together before his mom had a fit that he wasn’t down with everyone, and joined the fray. His family had always done presents in the morning, right before a huge feast for lunch, and this year was no different. He was scared at what his extended family had gotten for him, for the twisted version of himself that lived in their heads. Carson himself hadn’t bothered to get gifts for anyone, but played it off as “his presence was a gift,” which sometimes got a laugh. They went around and around, everyone gifting the others some crap from a local store, and Carson struggled to stay awake. So far he’d gotten some clothes he’d never wear, a collection of books he was into as a kid, and a bunch of seasonal chocolates and sweets. Overall, not awful. That was when his uncle, Jack, piped up.

“Hey kid, I got somethin’ for you this year. It’s out in my truck, why don’t you follow me out there,” he gestured. 

Carson couldn’t remember the last time he’d even interacted with uncle Jack, much less when he’d gotten a gift from him. Jack was a rancher, always out tending to his cattle and working on his ranch. Carson had seldom seen Jack when growing up, and he rarely made it to family events. He picked himself up off the floor and followed his uncle outside, suddenly feeling the two glasses of wine he’d already had that morning. Stumbling slightly, Carson met his uncle outside the garage, where he was digging in the backseat of his truck. 

“It’s in here somewhere I swear to-” his muffled voice barely registered. “Ah! Here it is.”

Jack reappeared from the truck with a large, worn cowboy hat. 

“This ‘ere was my first purchase after inheriting the ranch. I want you to have it now.” Jack said in a deeply sentimental voice, handing the hat to Carson.

“Uh, thank you,” is all Caron could get out, unsure exactly how to respond. This gift was off the deep end, in what world would he want this?

“Well? Try it on!” Jack said with an eagerness that made Carson feel almost guilty. He put the giant hat on, feeling ridiculous as it clearly didn’t fit right.

Jack laughed, “Lookin’ good, son! Maybe you’ll carry on the family ranch one day lookin’ like that!” he slapped his knee, getting a kick out of his own joke. He stepped over and patted Carson on the back, “I’m glad you like it,” he said so earnestly that a knot swelled up in Carson’s throat. He hated it but didn’t have the heart in the moment to say anything, so he just walked back inside looking like a misfit cowboy.

The room had quite a few comments when they reentered the den, and Carson tried to just suck it up and get through the day. He tried to take it off and stash it away during lunch, but after some devil eyes from his mother he put it back on. Strangely enough, it fit a little better that time. He left it on the rest of the day, nearly forgetting about it by the evening, reminded only by the grins and winks from Jack across the room. When getting ready for bed, he saw it still on in the mirror and laughed, he still looked ridiculous. He did, however, hang it neatly in his closet before passing out for the night.

When the next morning rolled around, the sunlight shone through the blinds and onto Carson’s face. He stretched and slowly opened his eyes, feeling less groggy than usual. Rolling over in bed, he reached towards his side table, feeling around for something. Not his phone, something else. After a couple seconds he came to his senses and got up, heading to the bathroom to shower. For a moment under the warm water he pondered what he had been reaching for in a fuzzy state, and couldn’t seem to place it. He grabbed some old jeans and a jacket from his closet and threw them on, before taking the cowboy hat off its hook and putting it on effortlessly, as if he’d been doing it for years. He barely registered the fact he’d put it on until walking downstairs and receiving a confused look from his mom. Carson wrote it off in his head as trying to be nice for his uncle who’d shown up again that day.

The day was another fairly standard family get together, with lots of eating and drinking involved of course. Carson felt like he was in a better mood today, talking with everyone came a little easier, and he was especially eager to chat with Jack more. They even sat in the sunroom and shared a beer that afternoon. Carson hated beer, or so he’d thought, but it seemed so natural to drink.

“I’m glad you like the hat, son,” Uncle Jack said whilst they were both sitting together. “You look like a natural in it, matches the scruff you’ve got growing real nice.”

Somewhere in Carson’s head, alarm bells suddenly started going off. Scruff? What did he mean by that? Carson excused himself briefly to use the restroom. He flipped the lights on and stared at himself in the mirror. Jack was right. Carson’s face was covered in a good few day’s worth of stubble. His jaw nearly dropped, he’d never been able to grow any facial hair, and now suddenly he nearly had a beard? His hand slowly raised up, feeling the coarse, bristly hairs that were poking out of his jaw. Brown stubble stretched from ear to ear, with a light mustache beginning to come in as well. Carson was floored, but a sensation of ease swept through him before he could panic.

Y’know, he actually looked pretty good with it. Jack was right about the hat too, it worked as a look. He could almost pass as someone who lived around these parts, if only looking at his head at least. Questions about how it’d happened faded, as it just felt natural to have the scruff. As his hand felt around his face he didn’t even register how hard he was getting. He looked better with stubble than without, he thought.

Carson returned to Uncle Jack in the sunroom acting like nothing had changed. This was how every holiday went, right? The two continued their banter, conversation slowly shifting away from Carson’s life in New York and towards Jack’s life on his ranch. In what felt like just minutes, the day flew by, and Carson’s mother was calling them in for dinner.

Unbeknownst to Carson, while he’d been sitting out with his beer, his body had been doing more than growing a little stubble. His slender legs began putting on some never before seen bulk, toned calves and bulky thighs emerged and pushed against his originally loose-fitting jeans. His feet grew sore as they expanded, stretching his shoes and socks tight as his size grew from a 10 to a 14. Small wispy hairs started to push out of his toes, just a few at first. The hairs spread over to the top of his feet, where the newly expansive room allowed the hairs to thicken, darken, and grow longer. Within minutes he had full hobbit feet, hairs pushing out between each other, poking through the fabric of his socks as they stretched thinner. The hairs moved upwards, swirling around his ankles and onto his calves, where skin quickly vanished beneath a tidal wave of hairs. Thick strands popped up rapidly, tangling together as they wrapped his lower legs in a blanket of fuzz before climbing up his knee, the joint itching slightly as hairs pushed out of any available skin. His now enormous quads were next, acting as the fertile ground for a bounty of hair to crop up, stretching solidly across and growing denser and thicker with every minute. Patterns emerged as hairs crawled along his skin, before vanishing as the hair thickened and puffed up, curling into an impenetrable mat.

Carson sat through dinner, entirely unaware of the goings-on beneath his jeans. He only noticed how much better a mood he was in today than yesterday, enjoying the time with family and not missing his own apartment and friends nearly as much. Talking with the family members began to feel less like catching up and more like regular conversations. After a long hearty meal, Carson excused himself to head to bed. He had an early morning planned with Jack, going out to his ranch to see it himself. It’d been many years after all, and Jack was eager to get Carson more invested in his business. 

Carson headed upstairs, getting ready to hit the sack; he was strangely exhausted after a day of not doing much. He took off the cowboy hat and nearly put it up in his closet, before correcting himself and placing it on his nightstand. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off his jeans which were overly tight at this point, revealing his fur coated legs. Carson didn’t bat an eye at them, he’d had hairy legs for years. He remembered getting teased at school when wearing shorts for how hairy they were! Of course he didn’t care anymore, he loved how hairy they were. He felt strong, more masculine with them exposed, slabs of muscle covered in coarse hair. Thick fur sticking out of his socks turned him on a bit, he realized that long ago, but he could also appreciate his huge hairy feet themselves. Before he could get too distracted he finished changing and hopped under the covers, setting an alarm for early the next morning.

The sun had not even begun to rise yet when Carson’s alarm blared. Waking up at this hour used to be reserved only for the worst timed flights, but this time he didn’t mind. He rolled over in bed, reaching for his side table once again, this time finding the hat he’d left. His body felt at ease as he put it on first thing. He threw on some jeans, making sure they fit better this time, a shirt and thick jacket. Before leaving he put on some decent snow boots and quietly left the house. 

Jack was waiting for him at the end of the driveway, truck and all. The exhaust was steaming in the bitter cold morning. Carson hopped into the passenger seat, fully energized.

“Mornin’ son, ready for this?” Jack asked.

“Damn right I am,” Carson responded eagerly, “It’s been far too long.”

The drive out to Jack’s ranch took over half an hour. The sun had started to peak above the horizon when they pulled through the gates and over the cattle grid. Jack parked up by his house, and the two hopped out into the snow and mud. Jack spent the morning showing Carson around the ranch, introducing him to the cattle, and showing him all his gear he’d invested in. A small part of Carson was shocked that he was here, enjoying the ranch tour. A week ago you couldn’t pay him to visit the ranch. Now, he was just plain excited. 

Trudging through the snow had Carson really working up a sweat underneath his layers. Getting a workout like never before, his body started to adapt. His chest tingled as pecs began to form for the first time, muscle gathering and pushing out two firm mounds. His cock throbbed in his jeans as his nipples perked up, rubbing against the material of his shirt as he moved. His stomach gurgled as abs inflated down his torso, imprinting their outline on his slim but growing frame. His shoulders stretched his jacket as they widened, bulking up as muscle worked its way down his arms. Biceps and triceps inflated, filling him with new strength, and his forearms and hands grew to match. If Carson had been paying attention he might’ve noticed the warmth and sensation coming from his chest, but he was too enamored with his uncle showing off his old rodeo gear.

Underneath his flannel shirt, between his new pec muscles, hairs began to pop up. At first they were short and wispy, barely visible against his skin. They clustered in the center of his chest as a light patch of fuzz, followed shortly by similar hairs poking out around his nipples. His skin prickled as the hairs grew thicker, follicles maturing to push out real adult hairs. The patch of hair darkened as it spread, hairs pushing out longer and thicker, laying flat against his muscular chest at first before they curled away, pushing out against his shirt. The sensation of thick hair rubbing against the fabric sent chills through Carson’s body, but he simply chalked it up to the frigid air outside. But beneath his layers of protection against the cold, he continued to grow his own. Hairs blossomed across his pecs as they surged out from his nipples. Swirls and spirals developed as the hairs slithered out across the mounds of muscle, slowly curling and tangling together as they lengthened. Skin vanishes beneath whorls of hair as his follicles activate in hoards across his chest. The distinct patches of hair blend together, uniting his pecs under a blanket of ever thickening fur. Hairs continue pushing out further up his chest as well, climbing up and over his defined collarbone. A lone dark hair curled bravely out of the collar of his shirt, tasting the frosty air for the first time.

Jack spied Carson’s burgeoning chest hair as it poked out of his shirt collar and couldn’t help but grin. He knew he’d given the hat for good reason.

“C’mon boy, I need your help moving some gear for today,” he barked at Carson, who quickly pulled himself out of the corner full of rodeo trophies.

“Yessir,” he responded. Another grin from Jack.

The two spent the next few hours moving hay and feed from storage as the sun attempted to break through the thick winter clouds. Carson was initially surprised at how much he could carry, but memories trickled in of years of weightlifting. Of course a little manual labor was no big deal. His biceps began to swell again, even more muscle growing in the span of minutes. His shoulders became true boulders, delts stretching and pulling as they created an increasingly dark and damp recess beneath. Despite the cold air, he was working up a real sweat for the first time in years, liquid dripping down his increasingly large muscles and pooling in his pits. The thick sweat soaked into his armpits as he worked, leaving a musky residue on his skin and a tingling sensation bubbling up underneath. 

His barren pits darkened as prickles of hair erupted from the smooth skin. Dark pinpricks elongated into wispy hairs, brushing up against his cavernous muscles as they pushed outwards. The hairs twisted together, thickening as sweat flowed down their ever increasing length. Carson lifted a particularly heavy bundle of hay, hairs squeezing out further as he grunted, exerting his whole body in the effort. If he’d been paying attention he could’ve noticed that each movement of his arms came with more friction as hair filled the space between arm and torso. Sweat and musk filled the dark caverns between muscles as hair inched out every moment, vying to fill every open pocket. Dark hairs grew thicker, wirier, tangling together as they kinked and curled outwards. The hair spread outwards, crawling out from the recess and curling around his biceps and chest as pit hair blended into a growing mat coating his torso entirely. The deepest crevices began to truly reek as sweat coalesced, the hairs bathed in testosterone laden juice taking on an even thicker texture. More hairs poked out between the old ones, barely able to fit as the jungle filled out. His biceps swelled more as hairs brushed against the fabric of his jacket, fully pushing out of his shirt and beyond.

After what felt like an eternity of heavy lifting the pair finally finished, pausing their labor for lunch. Carson felt the icy contrast of sweat dripping down his forehead and freezing from the cold blasts of wind, but instead of groaning about it he grinned. He felt truly alive working hard like this. Jack saw the look on Carson’s face and mirrored it on his own. As the two headed inside to eat, they shed their heavy layers by the door. Just in a few hours, Jack could see how much Carson had bulked up. His flannel was bursting at the seams, thick hairs splaying out of his collar and creeping out of his sleeves.

“Looks like you’ve been hitting the gym, boy,” Jack said, giving Carson a look up and down. “Why don’t you flex and show me?”

Carson paused. The old him would’ve been mortified. Flexing in front of his uncle? And what did he mean by that anyway, he’s been slim his entire life. But that side of Carson had taken a back seat. A smile crossed his face instead.

“Sure have, glad you noticed,” he said, curling his arms up. His newly developed biceps pressed against his shirt, straining the fabric instantly. The threads pulled apart as thick hairs popped out, his shirt giving way to his overly masculine form. His pecs swelled in size once more, popping the top button completely off the flannel. His chest barreled out, hair pouring from between each side of the shirt. His stature had shifted too, growing a few inches taller. The shirt rode up on his torso now, revealing his still hairless stomach. His body shivered slightly as the wispy translucent fuzz acting as a treasure trail caught the chilly draft from outside.

Jack laughed. “We’ll have to get you a new shirt there. Looking good though, son,” he said with a wink. He walked over to the closet and pulled out an old work shirt that he thought would fit Carson and tossed it to him. “Go try this on and I’ll throw some lunch together for us.” 

Carson took the shirt into the bathroom, struggling to take off his old flannel from how tightly it clung to his form now. He eventually got it off, letting it slide off his bulky shoulders and onto the floor. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing a very different man from the one he’d woken up as that morning. The man in the mirror should have been a stranger, but the longer he stared the more familiar he became. As he gazed over his body, the shadow formed by the overhang of his new pecs darkened as wiry hairs erupted across his torso. As the forest on his chest grew denser, the southern front pushed out, a trail of thick dark hairs pushing out on a mission towards his navel. His newly visible abs were hidden behind a growing carpet of hair that stretched out from the thick trail. He should’ve been alarmed, terrified at the changes taking place across his body, but no such thought even crossed his mind. His old body was being overwritten by his new one, he’d always looked like this, it felt natural. 

He undid his belt and jeans to take a piss while he was waiting for lunch, sliding his sweat soaked underwear down out the way. Looking down at his crotch, memories flooded in. He remembered the panic when he was younger and saw the first dark curls poking out from his body. He’d grown a rug long before any of his friends, and he’d remained ahead of the pack in that sense ever since.. He chuckled to himself, imagining if his younger self could see him now. As if manifesting it, the wispy cluster of hairs above his cock began to darken. Pigment flooded them as they thickened up, curling with texture they’d never had before. His groin warmed as testosterone flooded the area, follicles waking to the call long awaited. Dark spots appeared across his crotch, radiating out from the existing hairs, creating a spreading shadow that began to take shape. Each pinprick pushed out a thick, dark hair, strands emerging from the skin like a field in bloom.

Carson slid his hand over the growing bush, nascent hairs tickling his fingers as they twisted and curled. The forest of hairs grew and spread, filling out his crotch with a full triangle of hair, growing denser beneath his touch. Like a timelapse the hairs grew longer and thicker, blocking out the skin beneath as his bush developed into a true jungle. The edges blurred as hairs climbed onto his thighs and crawled up his stomach, merging seamlessly with the coating of hair over his abdomen. He’d long since finished peeing but had gotten distracted feeling the growing hairs. Another memory of his new life appeared in his mind, from the locker room in school, the first time another guy had pointed out his pubes. They’d grown so much the hairs had curled up and over his waistband, a sign of his newfound manliness on display. 

As he reminisced, his bush puffed up to match, hairs exploding outwards from his groin. His cock twitched as it snaked out longer, hairs beginning to climb up the base of the shaft. The sensation of coarse hairs brushing through his fingers quickly aroused him, blood rushing to his cock as it grew. His hand transitioned from pulling at the hairs to fully gripping his cock as it hardened, the newly grown short hairs prickling against his grasp. He looked up at his reflection again, seeing the hairy, built man still rocking the cowboy hat. It felt right. 

He stroked his hand up his shaft, sending waves of pleasure rocketing through his body. In that instant, his balls truly dropped. Carson involuntarily moaned as his balls swelled in size, engorging to the size of large eggs dangling below his furry crotch. The wrinkly skin looked odd in comparison, until the hair began to make its way down. His enormous testicles quickly vanished as thick wiry hairs sprouted from his sack, engulfing it in an impenetrable cage of dark hair. It was as if his pubes had reached down to claim them, coating the expanse in a continuation of the thick jungle above. His hand jerked quickly up and down, precum budding at the tip of his cock as hair thickened all around it.

“Food’s ready!” Uncle Jack’s voice called from the kitchen, falling on deaf ears. Carson was lost in himself as his groin felt like the center of the universe. His breath quickened as his hand increased its tempo. His cock thickened, pressing out against his tight grip as he jerked off, precum dripping down his shaft. The sensation of hair pushing out across his groin was electric, it felt masculine, it felt primal, it felt natural. His cock pushed out longer, growing past seven, then eight inches as he brought in his other hand to help. The hairs on his shaft lengthened as well, climbing higher and higher up his member as he stroked. Carson moaned again, not noticing how his pitch had deepened since he’d started growing. 

Jack knocked on the door to the bathroom, but Carson once again failed to notice. His breaths grew ragged, cock reaching past nine inches as his pubes glistened with the precum constantly leaking from his tip. His massive balls tensed up, ready to release. Strokes grew sloppy as precum lubricated his shaft entirely, until finally his body gave in. With a body enrapturing clench his cock erupted, cum blasting out all over the mirror in front of him. Load after load shot out, covering the glass and counter as the arc of his shooting changed. The loudest moan yet involuntarily slipped out as Carson was overcome with the most intense orgasm of his life. The last remnants of his old memories leaked out with the last dribbles of his cum, splattering onto the tile beneath him. His body buzzed with energy as the feeling echoed throughout his frame. Through the cum painting the mirror he could see part of his face reflected, a grin plastered across his face as he felt content.

Eventually the orgasmic state began to wear off, and Carson remembered that he was late for lunch. He quickly pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt, his uncle’s shirt fitting perfectly on his newly bulky frame. Promising to clean up his mess later, he walked back into the kitchen unsure if Jack had heard his moans from earlier, but he also didn’t truly care. Jack had a smirk plastered on his face when Carson entered, which told him everything. 

“Lookin’ sharp, buck,” Jack said upon looking at how his old shirt fit on the young man. “Now, I made us some sandwiches, dig in.”

Carson sat down and began scarfing down the sandwich. It was a messy meal, but once again he didn’t seem to care much, this wasn’t a fine dining restaurant. Sauce leaked all over his face as he crammed the food down, he was absolutely starving after hours of hard work. Jack looked up over his own lunch, staring intently at his nephew’s face as he ate. From beneath the smear of mayo, the light stubble began to thicken. Starting on his upper lip, the soft skin prickled as stubble darkened into a thick shadow. The hairs slowly pushed out, a thick mop emerging from his face as a true man’s stache came into being. A dark, dense wave of hair flowed out of his lip, growing longer as it curled down, completely covering his mouth. Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile, remembering his own youth when he’d had a thick stache for years. 

Carson’s face itched as his jaw widened, bones defining and growing into a sharp jawline. The hairs from his stache began to trickle down the sides of his mouth, a dense five o'clock shadow developing, spreading from his mouth out over his cheeks. Within moments, his face was awash with a thick stubble, more than anything he’d ever grown before. The stubble lengthened, hairs pressing out of his face in a continuous layer. His cheeks vanished beneath an extruding layer of hair, growing thicker and coarser as follicles became drenched in testosterone. Stubble turned to short beard as his sideburns flared out, connecting up to his ever darkening hair on his head. His new jawline disappeared beneath the onslaught of wiry hairs, pushing longer and longer as his beard inched out from his face. The hairs grew thick, dense, and dark as his beard continued to grow, stubble crawling up his cheeks and down his neck, threatening to merge with his chest rug. By the time Carson had finished eating, he had a bushy beard to rival most cowboys, dark and impenetrable. It was a clear and solid silhouette of hair, oozing masculinity as he wiped the last of his sandwich from his mature mustache.

The two cleaned up lunch and quickly got back to work. The sun hung fairly low in the sky despite it being midday, the harsh rays bouncing off the snow. Carson’s originally bulky winter jacket fit snugly now, wrapping his built form as he worked clearing snow and ice. Despite memories of working hard at the gym and even harder at the ranch slowly filling his mind, the labor never seemed to get easier. Within minutes he was sweating his ass off once again, feeling frostbite on his face and like he was in a sauna under his coat. He could feel the sweat running down his broad, muscular back as he heaved the shovel back and forth. 

Where his sweat trickled down his spine, small hairs began to bud. Starting from his already furry shoulders, hair cropped up moving down towards his shoulder blades, where patches of dark fur quickly began forming. Dark hairs traced down his spine as smooth skin ceded to the hair, thick strands popping up across rapidly roughening flesh. His lats hardened as curly hairs framed them before fully covering the expanse of muscle, connecting into the thick trail leading down his spine towards a burgeoning puff of hair above his ass. The hairs at the base of his back billowed out, growing thicker and curlier than the rest, mirroring the monstrous bush in his groin. The hairs quickly breached south of this patch, engulfing what was once a smooth backside in record pace. His ass itched as fields of dark hairs cropped up, swirling together over the plump expanse. He reached a hand back to scratch at it as the hairs began to concentrate between his cheeks, darker and thicker hairs sprouting as his crack grew sweaty and rank. Inky black hairs pushed out from around his hole as it steadily grew tighter and more sensitive, feeling the brushing and scratching of the thick coils surrounding it. His upper body was sealed beneath a thick layer of fur, stretching from ass to beard and back, insulating him against the frigid cold.

After another couple hours of gruelling work he’d finally hit his limit for the day, and both him and Jack called it quits. Jack lit a fire in the fireplace and poured them both a cold beer to enjoy.

“Cheers to an honest day's work, son,” he said, raising his glass. “You know, that hat really does fit you, I’m glad you took to it so well.”

Carson was beaming. He felt incredible, despite being exhausted. He was stronger, more rugged, more confident than ever before. He tipped the cowboy hat to his uncle in thanks.

“Couldn’t have done it without ya, uncle Jack.” Carson smiled, barely visible beneath his thick beard. He undid the top buttons of his shirt, letting his newly hairy chest breathe. He’d always been a hairy guy, it was just natural to finally embrace it. It fit his life, a down to earth ranch worker. He couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else.

Jack looked over at Carson with a smile on his face. “Y’know, son, think it's high time I truly give you a stake in this ranch, you’ve earned it.” He said as he took another swig of his beer. “I want to pass this all on to you, y’know.”

A huge smile crossed Carson’s face. He’d been hoping to hear that for years, ever since starting to help out around the ranch as a teenager. This was the future he’d been waiting for. Not in the city, but on his own ranch. He couldn’t imagine his old life anymore, who in their right mind would want to leave all this for some big city. He’d been born and bred for this life, finally becoming the cowboy he’d been destined to, and Uncle Jack couldn’t be happier.

Paul steps over the line tearing into his boss' daughter for her terrible first draft. Unable to engage with Juan Carlos, the unrealistic horny Latino stud of a protagonist, Paul's going to really find out what it's like to live as a character with nothing but sex on the mind.

For all his valid criticisms at least Paul will now get to chill out and enjoy himself! Similarly, hope you enjoy this one! -Occam

“Juan Carlos walked his hot sexy ass in to the bar and when he did every little horny twink had his eyes on him. ‘Ayyy papi you’re so sexy!’ One of them said, hornily.” Paul sighed heavily as he dropped the manuscript littered with red ink back onto his desk. “Okay, Stacy. I hope you understand that I’m not going to be moving forward with you on this one.”

Paul had been so excited for this novel. It was supposed to be his first ‘fun’ project in at least a calendar year. His boss has been relentlessly on his ass about pleasing their publishing house’s biggest client, a major cookbook studio, and this was supposed to be his big reward. 

‘It’ll be the next gay YA best seller!’ ‘Yer gonna love it!’ ‘Won’t even need to polish this diamond!’ Really he should’ve read between the lines and realized that his boss was talking about the CEO’s daughter Stacy’s latest attempt to force her way into the creative world. 

Speaking of the devil, she sits opposite him, mouth hanging open halfway to her faux fur coat. Apparently surprised to not have another door opened by her daddy the CEO, Stacy’s eyes begin to well up as the editor attempts to do his job. “Like, do you mean we’re not moving forward because it’s already go to go? Like, it’s ready to print?”

“No Ms. McClure, I do not mean that. I don’t believe we will be moving forward with anything unless you decide to completely start this project from scratch.”

Mascara designed to trail down her cheeks with tears does just that as she lets fly her waterworks, “But daddy said you’d freaking make this the next big thing Paul! He said you could make it the next Heated Rivalry!” 

“I’m sorry Albert, we’re going to have to let you go,” the man explained, cross-legged in his expensive chair.

Albert gulped, adjusting his now tightening neck tie and looking down solemnly. “But sir I-”

“It’s nothing personal Albert, you’ve been with us for over 20 years and I value your loyalty more than anything, but it’s just time to let you go,” his boss cut off, frowning at the end to convey a sympathetic attitude.

“Sir but why? You said you valued my loyalty and I value this company so why are you firing me when I’ve done nothing!” Albert argued tenaciously.

His boss sighed, about to break bad news to his ex-employee. “It’s because of your age. Albert you’re 63 for Christ’s sake, you need to retire! I don’t know why you’ve stayed with us so long, you haven’t moved up the food chain in 20 years. You haven’t even reached manager level and you’re our oldest employee. We have some kids who want your position, one’s who actually have potential to get things done around here. It’s just the way the world works Albert, you’re fired.”

Albert was red with anger at this point, the idea of an unqualified kid replacing him infuriated him. It was true he hadn’t moved up the ranks in the time he’d been with them but that was because someone was always chosen over him. He was passed up each year, just because of who he was, an old, fat, senile, white guy with nothing but a pink slip to show for his life’s work.

Albert walked out of the office, mumbling swear words under his breath to his forty-something year old boss that he had as an intern years ago. His coworkers in the office watched quietly as the aging man packed up his things in a small brown box.

“What are you all looking at!” Albert snapped, yelling at everyone in the room filled with nothing but sad, lonely people in cubicles. They all adverted their eyes from him, looking back at the computer in front of them and continuing their work. He sighed, finished packing and walked out the door, leaving his old life behind.

He got into his janky, dilapidated Toyota Camry and drove home, holding back his tears and shouts the whole drive home. Albert arrived at his doorstep a few minutes later, took at his keys from his pocket with a shaky hand, and opened the door. To his surprise, the blaring sounds of a video game blasted through out the house.

“Bryce! Turn down the damn game!” Albert shouted at his teenage son. He was met with a loud groan but compliance after, and now Albert had a ringing in his ears.

“How was work old man?” Bryce asked, passing his father by to get a slice of pizza. His game was paused on the TV but Albert could tell he didn’t care about how his day went. A foul stench hit his nose as his son walked by, he had probably just finished a work out and didn’t care to shower. Bryce was shirtless and wearing only his boxers, and his visible cockprint could be seen from a mile away. Albert looked away shamingly, it was obvious Bryce’s cock length was not from his gene pool.

Albert sighed, it was best for him to know about his discharge. “I got fired.”

Bryce stopped in his tracks and look at his pitiful excuse for a father. Albert was almost a grandpa to him, and he hated his old man for being a lazy old fart with a life everyone felt bad for.

“What the hell bro! What do you mean u got fired?” Bryce responded angrily.

“It means I got fired son. Sorry but you might have to pick up a job or two. I’ll see what I can do but I don’t know if I can get you to college anymore,” Albert explained earnestly.

Bryce looked at his father with animosity and resentment he hadn’t seen before. “You lazy motherfucker! How do you get fired from a job where you sell the shit you see on commercials! Bruh how the fuck am I gonna pay for my video games. I can’t work I don’t know how to! I’m 18 and you never taught me shit about the world bro! No wonder mom divorced you, she was tired of the miserable old fart you are. Don’t talk to me grandpa!”

Albert was shocked, he was just yelled at about life by a 18 year old jock who knew nothing about the real world. “You ungrateful little shit! How dare you yell at me like that! All you are is a smelly jock who can’t do anything other than play video games or work out! If I were you I’d treat the guy paying my bills with some respect! All you are is a retarded little jock-faggot without a brain!”

Albert ran up to his son, fuming with rage. He looked the taller jock in the eye and raised his hand to hit his disrespecful son. Bryce didn’t even flinch, but started straight ahead as if he were in shock. “Look at me boy!” Albert yelled with intense rancor, and right as his hand made contact with Bryce’s body, it tingled and went right through, almost like a ghost.

“H-Holy shit-” Bryce stammered.

Albert was immediately astonished and confused, and he hadn’t the slightest idea of what was happening to him. He looked back at Bryce to ask him, but he wasn’t looking at him, but through him. Albert turned around to see him on the floor, and Bryce ran through Albert’s ghastly form towards his dead body.

“Dad? Dad wake up!” Bryce yelled, shaking Albert’s body.

Albert look down at his body, it was his alright, the same beer belly and wrinkly skin. “I’m...dead?” He looked back at the musky jock of a son he had, trying to do chest compressions to try and make his father breathe again.

Though bewildered and unsure, Albert started to run towards his son. He was angry and disrespected, and with his rage building up he knew what he desired. A second chance at life, and a sexy young stud’s body. Albert picked up his running speed and collided into the hunk, instantly causing his spirit to absorb into Bryce’s muscled physique.

“W-WHAT THE FUCK?” Bryce yelled as he felt something enter his body. It was a sensation like he had never experienced, every muscle and bone he once had control over was slowly slipping away from him. Tingles rushed throughout his body as his mind was overrided by memories that weren’t his. “GET OUT!” He looked like a crazy person, twitching and jittering around being possessed by his own father.

One by one, Albert took over parts of his son’s musky frame, starting with his feet and up to the head. The prickly tingles quickly turned to pure shocks of simultaneous pain and pleasure, causing Bryce to sweat like a musky jock pig at the physical and mental work out he was undergoing. He could feel the raging boner inside of his tight shorts twitching, almost ready to blow a load right out of his 10” meat.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Bryce screamed in frustration as he lost control of his upperbody, causing the sculpted muscles he had worked on for years to be taken away from him. He couldn’t think for himself anymore, nor move on his own other than from the convulsions of painful pleasure his body was experiencing. Bryce’s consciousness slowly drifted away, his stupid, himbo jock-brain slowly being erased by a stronger will. It only took a few minutes, but Albert had completely taken over his own son’s body.

Bryce’s sweaty body collapsed onto the floor out of exhaustion. His whole body was sore to the touch and he was unsure of what to do next. He died, possessed his own son, and now his old body was lying dead next to him on the floor.

Albert attempted to the stand up, which was surprisingly easy in his new body. Bryce’s sweat covered muscles did all the work for him, unlike his old body that struggled to even to a push up. He felt sluggish and wobbly when he stood up, but it was probably a side effect of the possession. Albert’s mind felt slower as well, poor vocabulary and sports filled his head, the usual jock brain his son had since puberty. Albert’s educated mind was slowly adapting to his new intellect and brain, and soon he would slowly become more and more like his porn addicted son.

He looked ahead around the room, he was taller for sure but everything was in a newer light. Bryce’s eyes landed on the mirror in the corner of the bathroom, and almost instinctively, he flexed his meaty bicep, exposing his rank pit.

“Holy shit bro,” Albert remarked using his son’s voice. Albert began to caress his son’s sweaty body, exploring every crack and crevice with his hands. “Fuck I’m so sweaty and musky! This jock stink is fucking amazing.”

Albert hungrily whipped out the cock from his grey sweatpants, eager to see what his son had been pridefully boasting since puberty. “Shit bro, this has got to be like 10 fucking inches.” Albert wrapped his dominant hand around his new cock, moving it slowly, up and down from the forest of smelly pubes. It was clear that Bryce had barely washed there, and the musk fetish was apparent because Albert was started to breathe in his armpit stink.

Albert continued to sniff his pits as he jerked his uncut meat faster and faster, stroking manically as this was the first time he’d felt the pleasure of climaxing in decades. With each whiff his cum came closer and closer to coming out. In a moment of horniness, he began to kiss and lick his pits and bicep, selfworshipping his son’s sculpted muscle. “Fuck!” He yelled out in pleasure, letting the white ropes of semen shoot out of his dick. He took in deep breathes, sitting down after letting the last of Bryce out of him, and finally becoming his own stud on son. Bryce turned back to his old man’s body, laying there a few feet away, it was probably best that he call it in.

The whole police fiasco took a while, he explained that him and his father got into a fight and that he had a heart attack. They bought the story, after all it was what happened, but they had no idea Bryce was so smiley about it. After that, Bryce’s mom moved back in to take care of him and life resumed like it normally had. Albert was an irrelevant speck in the universe and no one would ever miss him.

After that day, it was clear Bryce was no longer the same person. He was a cocky jock now, struggling to get even C+’s in school. Though brain dead, he still was getting scholarship offers from colleges for his athletic prowess, as he was the star quarterback for his school. Everyone did notice that Bryce was different now though, he would skip class to go fuck bitches in the bathroom or just stay home to work out. They all chalked it up to trauma of him losing his father in front of him, though none of them really knew that the old Bryce was gone and now all he’d ever be was a dumb, musky himbo.

The more he looked at the more creeped out he was becoming. What was even stranger was he swore he felt an eerie feeling the longer he stared into those hollow eyes. Since he didn't know if the mask was his boyfriend's, though he couldn't think of what use his boyfriend would need for it. He picks it up to place it somewhere out of his way so he can start dinner when he feels the rubber material of the mask tighten around his hand.

"What the hell?" Derek said out loud before he let out a startled shout when the mask suddenly lunged out of his loose grip. The mask latching onto Derek's face, forcing him to stagger backwards and flail around the living room in his attempt to get it off his head. 

No matter how much he pulled at the mask to remove it the tighter in got. Refusing to let him go as the rubber mask somehow found its way over Derek's head. Derek gasp when he felt a strange jolt surging through him, forcing him to tense up and his arms fall down to his sides.

He loses his balance and drops down to his knees. Motionless as he stares off at nothing and feeling helpless to do anything but sit there on his knees. He swears he hears a deep voice whispering to him. What the voice says he can't quite make out. All he can tell is the voice seems to be taunting him. 

The mask starts to enclose around his head. Derek felt it getting tighter around him. It was strange to feel the way the mask was shrinking around his head like this. Getting to the point the mask was skin tight around his head now. As if the mask was merging to him so it no longer was a mask anymore.

The realization was enough to pull Derek out of water daze he was in and his hands jerked upwards and touched the mask to try and tug it off again. Only instead of touching rubber, Derek's fingers brush over what feels like his normal skin.

Prompting him to rub his hands around his head, feeling his bald head, the dusting of stubble covering his more defined jawline, among the other changes he could feel happened to his face.

He was left speechless thinking this wasn't really, that this must be some strange dream or something. That's when his mind starts to feel hazy, becoming harder to focus his thoughts as he slumps his head down and stares at the floor. A deep chuckle escapes from his mouth. Raising his head up to show his smug smile as he stands up on his feet.

"This body will do nicely." The man he is now says. His smile growing when he hears the front door opening and knows he is about to have some fun with his host's blyfriend.

—-

Hanging around the gym you saw the team Coach leave the lockerroom with a spaced-out looking football player with wet hair, long after the rest of the team won their match and went to celebrate. Chancing your bets you decided to check if there was anything they’d left, but by this point of the day the room was starting to look pretty empty… until…

As soon as you started to sniff the jockstrap, something called you to visit the red locker, and punch in the correct code. As you saw the door open, you couldn’t believe your luck. Inside was a perfectly folded black singlet and ear protection. Jackpot!

Without a moments notice, you threw off your old gym kit and pulled on the ripe jock, then the black singlet and - without even knowing why - the headgear.

As the cups went over your ears all of your thoughts started to muffle out and your attention go blank. You stared at the red locker in front of you as your memories started to be rewritten, your body start to stretch and muscles grew. Your previously weak frame became filled out, with wide shoulders and grappling forearms. If you weren’t in a state of total mind fog, you’d be bursting inside of the singlet there and then.

The two wrestlers laughed as they looked at you. They were built exactly the same way as you were, if not even stronger.

With the amount of sexually-charged transformations going on here, many guys have been left getting hard when they’re working out. After finishing a (pretty tame, all things considered) session, you waited behind in the locker room to see what you could grab. As a charismatic and hairy fella yourself, you had little reservations about being able to talk your way out of conflict should you get caught.

Jackpot, a well-worn jockstrap and sweatpants, neatly discarded and waiting for you in front of the showers. You grabbed them both immediately, leaving the shorts and trainers, and went without anyone spotting you. The jockstrap was obviously well-used, with noticeable stains, perhaps from lack of washing or maybe the owner was just that frustrated. Either way, you shrugged any guilt off, "their loss," you thought as you wore the jock yourself underneath your own gym gear without the care that they could have been left intentionally.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed yourself getting more and more promiscuous. Showing off, buying new gear and arranging casual hookups - but nothing seemed to scratch the itch, at least not completely. It didn’t take long before your entire consciousness had been taken over. You didn't even notice the physical changes that came with each and every release, just the feeling of being more frustrated and hornier each and every time.

You resorted to revisiting the gym to try to work off the sensation, but it just made things even worse. With each lunge, bench press or squat you felt yourself rubbing against the - now very well-stained - jockstrap. By the time you finished your workout, you could hardly contain yourself.

Emitting a deep moan as the tension was finally released - in the gym showers of all places - you cleaned yourself up, exhausted and delirious from the intensity of being edged for what felt like weeks. With your post-nut clarity you finally noticed yourself as a hairy, beefed up jock.

"Fuck yeah..." you thought "I'm huge!". As if on autopilot, you began to flex your arms and chest in the gym mirror, seeing yourself with clear eyes for the first time in weeks. Watching your own body feel itself was like being in the front of a personal porn show. All you had to do was to switch off and let your body do all the hard work.. yeah... just sit back and enjoy...

Am a very lanky, mild-mannered, polite, guy, it's easy for me to adjust, and am very focused on others.

Would love to become a skinhead, or worker, prisoner, learning to focus on my self more.

I always believe it is important to focus on yourself, especially if you find that you are at an imbalance. Some people believe that being submissive is about becoming selfless - but that release of control could be the best form of self-care they can do.

You've been putting in a lot of extra hours at the office recently, spending late nights and then visiting the gym whenever you can manage the energy. Unfortunately - or perhaps not - you forgot to lock your crumpled suit and tie away, and when you returned to your locker after your shower you discovered to your horror that there was nothing left.

"Fucking cleaners," you thought, looking around in panic, though when you found a neat collection of clothes elegantly displayed beside you your ideas began to change. You brushed the first thought that came to your mind away -- you weren't about to do the same to someone else.. were you?

"Who even goes to this gym who wears this stuff?" you thought to yourself as you walked around the - now very empty gym floor - to try to ask for help or guess who had either taken your old uniform or was the owner of this new one. You didn't see anyone around that fit the stereotype, nor even who would have been around to ask what had happened. All you could think about was the leather boots, bleached jeans and the green pilot jacket which, almost mockingly, even had the words 'SKINHEAD' patch sewn on the sleeve. When you thought about it, the only bald person in the gym was, well, yourself.

Now completely dry, and getting increasingly cold in the intense air conditioning of the gym, you sighed a deep breath and began to change into the gear that was left. Leaving the shiny black shorts as an act of kindness for the 'true' owner to find - you slid the white knee-high socks the only underwear, up your calves and folded them below the knee. The jeans slid over your legs as a perfect fit, then the black polo, belt, braces and finally the boots. Each and every lace - monotonous and repetitive in nature - was more and more calming. "Not so bad," you thought, as you looked at yourself in the mirror in a dream-like state, though the bubble immediately burst as you realised that your keys, phone and wallet were also missing. "SHIT!”

Unable to find your car in the gym's parking - presumably stolen, along with your former life - you walked back to try to use the gym's phone to call a taxi.

Appearing from the darkness, a 6-foot tall, muscular brute of a man stood with his arms crossed. "Oi - who thinks they can get away with stealing someone elses' kit?" he shouted. Fuck, guilt flooding through you as you had been rumbled are barely even able to mutter an apology. He smiled, "Glad they did though, cuz you're almost looking the part".

He grabbed your shoulder with a thick hand and pulled you in, physically shaking your thoughts away. "Us lads are going to have some fun, eh?" The dream-like state returned and reinforced your new life as you repeated back every statement - "Yeah, us lads are going to have some fun.."

"You're just like us, we do what we like, when we like"

"I'm just like the others.. I do what I like, when I like..."

No longer mind-mannered or polite, you wear your new identity on your sleeve. Why would you want anything different?

—

As a fellow lover of long socks, I'm confident the locker room will have plenty.

After a small group of meathead jocks left (shouting something about a 'hazing' to join the team) you decided that there could be something in there that took your eye. The odd shoe here.. a jersey there.. everything looked a bit too well placed and likely to be noticed as missing - and you knew that you didn't want the same fate as the guy before. Even though you graduated a long time ago, you still remember the insanity in the name of team building. Thankfully, it was long behind you now.

After taking your time, you saw one area was still completely trashed. Socks always go missing in the gym, and noone would miss anything from here.. right?

Digging your way through the mess, you came across a pair of black knee-high socks that caught your eye, buried in between some football cleats. Perfect - no one would notice these…

Without anyone noticing, you pulled them onto your feet - they were perfect. You could tell they were well-worn, still damp and slightly warm from a long training session. As the elasticated fabric hugged your calves, you had to stop your mind racing as it began thinking of their former owner... and if they had any other gear that you could wear.

THUD.

When you woke up, your hands were bound and kneeling in front of you was - you assumed - the captain of the team. Where were you? Who was this guy? What the hell was going on here?

You started to blurt out that you were sorry for the mistake but before you could, a shirtless jock came alongside and taped your mouth shut.

"Thought you could escape a good Hazing, bro?” He said, grinning and laughing as the duct tape wrapped around, sealing your mouth closed and unable to explain.

There must have been some mistake.. you weren’t on the team, nor a college freshmen. Looking around you noticed that you were outfitted head to toe in the team uniform, the same socks as before. As you pulled at the ropes against your arms you realised you had regressed into the skinny, weak freshmen you used to be all those years ago.

“No point waisting your energy on escaping, dweeb.” Placing his socked foot on the seat of the stool between your legs, you felt his toes pushing at your - now cupped - jockstrap pouch as his sadistic grin grew wider as you were unable to withhold a moan.