BodyShaper

"Jesus Christ, Chloe, you look like you've been crying for a week straight."

Liam kicked the door shut behind him, dropping his gym bag on the floor with a heavy thud. The apartment smelled like stale tears and cheap wine, a combination that made his nose wrinkle in disgust. He'd sprinted over here after getting her barely coherent text message about Chad, that walking, talking steroid injection she'd been dating.

"I have been," Chloe sniffled from her curled-up position on the couch, a pint of melted ice cream balanced precariously on her stomach. "He dumped me. Said I was getting 'too clingy' and that my pussy wasn't tight enough anymore."

Liam's jaw tightened. "What a fucking piece of shit. I swear to God, I'm gonna find that roided-out gorilla and rip his tiny dick off."

Chloe managed a weak smile. "His dick wasn't tiny, and you know it." She gestured vaguely toward the coffee table, where a pair of gray gym pants lay in a crumpled heap. "He left these. Probably forgot them in his haste to go fuck some other poor girl."

Liam plopped down beside her, the couch groaning under his weight. "Forget him. You're way too good for that meathead. The guy had the personality of a brick and probably thinks foreplay is telling you to 'take it, bitch'."

"Well, he wasn't wrong about that part," Chloe admitted with a watery laugh. "God, I'm so pathetic. I actually miss him. His stupid laugh, his constant need to flex in every mirror, even the way he'd leave his dirty socks everywhere."

Liam snorted. "You don't miss him. You miss the idea of him. The hot body, the confidence, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the room... right before he made five other girls feel the same way."

"And the nine-inch dick," Chloe added, her eyes glazing over slightly. "Don't forget the nine-inch dick that could hit my G-spot from three different angles."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Fine, the magical nine-inch dick. But you can get that elsewhere with about 90% less douchebaggery."

Chloe's eyes drifted to the shorts on the table. "You know what would be hilarious? If you tried those on. You're about his size, right? Maybe a little leaner, but close enough."

Liam recoiled. "Hell no. I'm not putting on that asshole's dirty gym shorts. God knows what bodily fluids are crusted in the fabric."

"Come on," Chloe wheedled, sitting up and poking his arm. "For me? I need a laugh right now. Something to take my mind off how pathetic I am for missing a guy who called me 'his favorite cum dumpster'."

Against his better judgment, Liam sighed dramatically. "Fine, but you owe me big time. Like, you're buying me dinner for a month big time."

He snatched the shorts and headed to the bathroom. The fabric was stiff and smelled faintly of sweat and cheap cologne. He stripped off his own shorts and pulled on Chad's, surprised at how tight they were around his thighs and ass.

When he came out, Chloe's eyes widened. "Holy shit," she breathed. "You actually look... hot. Like, really fucking hot. Your ass looks amazing in those."

Liam blushed, preening slightly. "Well, I do leg day twice a week."

"No, I mean it," Chloe insisted, her eyes roaming over him appreciatively. "You've got that jock vibe going on. The way you're standing..." She tilted her head. "You know, Chad used to stand just like that. All cocky and shit, like he owned the room."

Liam shifted uncomfortably. "I don't stand like that."

"You kind of do," Chloe giggled. "And your arms... they're getting bigger. Have you been lifting more? Your biceps look more defined."

Liam glanced down at his arms. They did seem more pumped than usual, the veins more prominent. "Maybe a little. Increased my protein intake."

"God, and your voice," Chloe continued, her eyes glazing over slightly. "It's deeper than I remember. Chad had this really deep voice that made me wet every time I heard it, especially when he was talking shit about some fag at the gym."

Liam cleared his throat. "I don't sound like him."

"No, but you could," Chloe mused. "If you tried. Just... lower it a little. More confident. More... masculine."

Liam tried, clearing his throat again. "What, like this?"

"Yessss," Chloe breathed, her hand drifting between her legs. "Exactly like that. Fuck, that's hot."

Liam felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. His pecs seemed to be swelling, pushing against the fabric of the shorts. He ran a hand over them, surprised at their firmness.

"See?" Chloe whispered. " Chad used to do that all the time - feel himself up like he was God's gift to women, which honestly, he kind of was."

Liam's hand moved to his abs, which were suddenly more defined than he remembered. "I've been working on my core," he said, his voice dropping even lower.

"Fuck yeah, you have," Chloe moaned, her fingers working faster under her skirt. "Chad had these massive thighs from all his squats. He could crush a watermelon between them."

Liam looked down, surprised to see his thighs had indeed swollen with muscle, straining against the shorts. He flexed them, watching them bulge with new power.

"Yesss, just like that," Chloe encouraged. "Chad had these broad shoulders that made him look like a fucking football player, which he was, before he got kicked out for 'excessive hazing'."

Liam rolled his shoulders back, feeling them stretch and widen. His entire upper body seemed to be expanding, muscles swelling and reshaping themselves into a more masculine form. The seams of the shorts strained against his growing frame.

"his face," Chloe breathed, her eyes fixed on his. "Chad had this really strong jawline that could cut glass."

Liam ran a hand over his chin, feeling the rough stubble that had suddenly appeared. His jaw did feel more angular, more defined, more... aggressive.

"And his hair," Chloe continued. " Chad always kept his hair short and military-style, said long hair was for fags and hippies."

Liam reached up, surprised to find his hair had indeed cropped shorter, styling itself into a severe, masculine cut that felt rough to the touch.

Chloe whispered. "Chad had these piercing blue eyes that could see right through me, usually to calculate my cup size."

Liam blinked, feeling a strange tingling in his eyes. When he opened them again, Chloe gasped.

"Fuck, they're blue now," she breathed. "Just like his. So cold and calculating."

Liam felt a strange detachment from his body, as if he were watching someone else transform. His thoughts were becoming simpler, more focused on physical sensations - the weight of his new muscles, the tightness of the shorts, the growing heat in his groin. His mind felt... clearer, emptier, filled with space where complex thoughts used to be.

"his hands," Chloe continued, her voice growing more urgent. "Chad had these huge hands that could grip me so tight, leave bruises for days."

Liam looked down at his hands, which were indeed larger and more calloused than before. He flexed them, feeling a strange power in his grip, a desire to use that power to dominate, to control.

"And his feet," Chloe moaned. "Chad wore size 13 shoes, said he needed big feet to balance his big dick."

Liam wiggled his toes, feeling them stretch and expand. The shorts felt even tighter now, barely containing his swelling form. He felt taller, broader, more... imposing.

"God, and his dick," Chloe breathed, her eyes dropping to his crotch. " Chad had this massive nine-inch cock that filled me up so perfectly, made me scream his name until I was hoarse."

Liam looked down, surprised to see a prominent bulge forming in the shorts. He reached down to adjust himself, gasping at the size of his suddenly enlarged cock. It felt heavy, powerful, ready to claim, to conquer.

"Yesss, just like that," Chloe encouraged. "Chad was always so confident, so cocky. Like he knew he was the shit, because he was."

Liam straightened up, puffing out his chest. A smirk played on his lips as he looked down at Chloe. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty hot. Bet I could get any pussy I wanted."

"Fuck yeah, you are," Chloe moaned. "And you know it too. That's what Chad was like - always so fucking arrogant, always so sure of himself. Never doubted his right to take what he wanted."

Liam ran a hand over his new abs, feeling the power coursing through his veins. "Damn right I am. Why would I doubt myself when I'm this fucking perfect?"

"You're not thinking about guys anymore, are you? You're thinking about pussy. About how many girls you could fuck in a week, how many would be begging for your dick."

Liam blinked, his brow furrowing. Why the fuck would he be thinking about guys? That was... disgusting. Wrong. His mind wasn't filled with memories of art galleries and witty banter with other men anymore; it was a slideshow of tight asses in yoga pants, low-cut tops, and the desperate looks women gave him. All he could think about was sinking his new, massive cock into a tight, wet pussy and hearing some bitch scream his name.

Chloe breathed, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. "You don't remember being some gay twink who worked in a coffee shop and read poetry, do you? You remember being the star quarterback, fucking cheerleaders in the locker room after every big game."

Liam nodded slowly, his mind rewriting itself. The scent of espresso beans and the feel of a book in his hands faded, replaced by the smell of sweat and grass, the roar of a crowd, the feeling of a cheerleader's legs wrapped around his waist in a cramped locker room. He remembered slapping his teammates on the ass, calling them pussies when they missed a tackle, and laughing as some nerd tripped in the hallway. Who the fuck was Liam? That was some nobody, some cock-gobbler he probably shoved into a locker once or twice.

"Your personality," Chloe continued, her voice growing more urgent. "You're becoming more aggressive, more dominant. Chad never took no for an answer. He saw what he wanted and he took it."

Liam's smirk widened, showing teeth. He grabbed Chloe's arm, his grip like a vise. "Damn right I don't. Bitches don't know what they want anyway. That's why guys like me have to show them."

Chloe whispered, trying to pull away but failing. "Chad was a real man's man - believed in God, country, and pussy. Thought feminism was a cry for help from ugly women who couldn't get laid."

Liam nodded, his eyes hardening. "Fucking right. Fags and liberals can go to hell. This country was built by real men, not a bunch of soft-handed pussies whining about their feelings. Women should be in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, where they belong."

"His intelligence," Chloe breathed, a flicker of regret in her eyes. "Chad wasn't exactly a rocket scientist. He was all brawn and no brains, thought Nietzsche was some kind of German beer."

Liam shrugged, the motion making his pecs bounce. "Who needs brains when you've got this?" He flexed his bicep, watching it bulge. "Smart guys don't get pussy. They get wedgies and spend their Saturday nights playing video games. I get laid. Every. Single. Night."

"Your name," Chloe whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's not Liam anymore, is it? It's Chad."

"Damn right it is," Chad growled, his voice a deep, rumbling bass. "Now get on your knees, bitch. I'm gonna fuck your throat until you can't talk."

Chloe hesitated, a flicker of her old self in her eyes. "Chad, wait, I don't know if..."

"Did I fucking stutter?" Chad snarled, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to her knees. "You wanted Chad? Well, you got him. Now open wide."

Chloe whimpered, tears welling in her eyes, but she complied, parting her lips. Chad smirked, grabbing his thickening cock through the shorts. "That's a good girl. You're gonna learn your place, just like all the others."

He fumbled with the waistband, his new, larger hands clumsy with the unfamiliar task. His cock sprang free, thick and imposing, the veins pulsing with barely contained lust. He grabbed Chloe's head, forcing her down onto his shaft.

"Take it all," he grunted, thrusting into her mouth. "That's it, choke on it. You love it, don't you? You love being used by a real man."

As he fucked her face, his mind continued its transformation. Memories of Liam's life - his first crush on a boy, his coming out, his gentle relationships - were being overwritten by Chad's brutal conquests. He remembered taking a girl's virginity in the back of his pickup, laughing when she cried. He remembered cheating on every girlfriend he'd ever had, sometimes with two or three other girls at once. He remembered using his size and strength to intimidate smaller, weaker men, calling them faggots and pussies until they cried.

"Look at me," he commanded, grabbing Chloe's chin and forcing her to look up at him. "You're nothing but a set of holes to me. A warm place to stick my dick. You understand?"

Chloe nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"Good," Chad grunted, pulling out of her mouth and flipping her onto the couch. "Now spread those legs. Time to see if this pussy's still tight enough for a real man."

He ripped off her skirt and panties, positioning himself at her entrance. "You're gonna take every inch of my nine-inch cock, you hear me? And you're gonna thank me for it."

He positioned himself over her, but then paused, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he actually looked at her. "Ugh, you know, up close... you're kinda plain, aren't you?" He grabbed a handful of her mousy brown hair. "This hair is so boring. Like, office-worker boring. And your tits? They're basically mosquito bites. I like my bitches with huge fucking knockers, the kind that give them back problems."

Chloe flinched, a fresh wave of tears welling in her eyes. "I... I'm sorry?"

"Don't apologize, just fix it," Chad snapped, his ego swelling with every cruel word. "And your skin? It's so pale. You look like you live in a fucking basement. I like my girls tan, like they just spent a week in Cancun getting railed by rich dudes."

As he spoke, he watched in fascination as her body began to change. Her mousy brown hair lightened, bleaching itself into a vibrant, platinum blonde that cascaded over her shoulders in perfect waves. Her small breasts began to swell, stretching the fabric of her shirt until it was straining against two massive, perfectly round globes of flesh.

"Fuck yeah, that's more like it," Chad grunted, grabbing one of her newly enlarged tits and squeezing it hard. "Now those are some proper titties. The kind you can motorboat."

He watched as her skin darkened, taking on a deep, golden tan that looked like she'd spent hours under a tanning bed. Her waist seemed to shrink, her hips flaring out into an exaggerated hourglass figure.

"And your face," he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "It's too... smart-looking. I don't fuck smart girls. They ask too many questions, think they have opinions. I like my bitches dumb and giggly, the kind whose only thought is how to please my cock."

Chloe's face softened, her features becoming more delicate, more vapid. Her eyes widened, taking on a vacant, glassy look. Her lips plumped up, forming a perfect pout that seemed to beg for a cock to be shoved between them.

"Much better," Chad nodded in approval. "Now you look like a proper bimbo. The kind I'd take to a frat party and pass around to my buddies."

He positioned himself at her entrance again, but paused once more. "You know what else? Your voice is too... normal. I like my girls to sound like they just stepped out of a valley girl movie from the 90s. All 'like, oh my god' and 'totally' and shit."

"Like, what do you mean?" Chloe asked, her voice suddenly higher, more breathless, tinged with a subtle California accent.

"Perfect," Chad smirked. "Now you sound like the brainless fucktoy you were meant to be."

He slammed into her, making her gasp. "That's it," he grunted, pounding into her relentlessly. "Take it, you fucking bimbo. You know you love it."

"Oh my god, like, yes!" Chloe moaned, her voice a high-pitched, breathy whine. "Your cock is, like, sooo big!"

"Fucking right it is," Chad grunted, his ego swelling with every vapid compliment. "It's the biggest cock you'll ever have, so you'd better appreciate it."

"Like, I totally appreciate it!" Chloe squealed, her massive tits bouncing with every thrust. "It's, like, the best cock ever! Way better than, like, all the other cocks I've had!"

Chad felt a surge of pride at her words. "Damn right it is. I'm the best fuck you'll ever have, and don't you forget it."

He felt himself getting close, his balls tightening. "Gonna fill you up," he grunted. "Gonna pump you so full of my cum you'll be tasting it for a week."

"Oh my god, like, yes! Fill me up with your hot, yummy cum!" Chloe squealed, her back arching as she orgasmed. "I wanna, like, have your babies and stuff!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he came, his hot seed flooding her womb. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy body pinning her to the couch.

"Damn," he muttered, rolling off her. "That was alright. Not bad for a reformed mousy bitch."

He stood up, stretching his new, muscular body. "Well, I'm out. Got a party to hit. Try not to get any smarter while I'm gone, huh?"

He grabbed his shorts from the floor, pulling them on over his still-hard cock. "Later, bimbo. Don't call me unless you're looking for a round two or you've got a hot friend who wants to join in."

He strutted out of the apartment, leaving Chloe panting on the couch, her hand already drifting between her legs. As he walked down the hallway, he caught his reflection in a mirror and smirked. "Damn, I look good," he muttered, flexing his biceps. "And I just made that bitch ten times hotter. I'm like a fucking fairy godmother of pussy."

His mind was already racing with possibilities. The blonde from his gym class, the redhead at the front desk of his apartment building, the pair of sorority girls he'd seen at the grocery store. He could make them all into his perfect bimbos, his personal harem of brainless, big-titted fucktoys.

He was Chad. The ultimate alpha male. A toxic, homophobic, sexist jerk. A womanizing cheating prick. And as he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he felt a surge of pure, unadulterated ego. He was the king, and all the pussies in the world were his kingdom.

"Time to go conquer some more bitches," he muttered to himself, already feeling his cock stir at the thought. "Life is fucking good when you're me."

The bass thumped through the club, vibrating in my chest as I swayed to the rhythm, my hips instinctively moving to the beat. My friends, Jenna and Lila, were giggling beside me, their drinks sloshing slightly as they danced. The air was thick with sweat and the faint scent of fruity cocktails, the strobe lights casting erratic shadows across the packed dance floor. I’d been here a hundred times before, but tonight felt… different. There was an electricity in the air, a tension that made my skin prickle with anticipation.

Across the room, I caught his eye. Ethan. He was leaning casually against the bar, his dark hair tousled, his shirt just tight enough to hint at the muscles beneath. When our eyes met, he smirked, and my stomach did a flip. I’d seen him around before, but we’d never spoken. There was something about the way he looked at me tonight, though—like he’d already decided what was going to happen.

“Go talk to him,” Jenna urged, nudging me with her elbow. Her cheeks were flushed from the vodka cranberry she’d been nursing all night. “He’s been staring at you since we walked in.”

I hesitated, but only for a moment. The music shifted, the beat dropping into something slower, sultrier. Ethan pushed off the bar and started walking toward me, his movements fluid and deliberate. My heart raced as he closed the distance, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, barely audible over the music. He was close enough now that I could smell the faint hint of cologne on him, something woodsy and intoxicating.

“Hey,” I echoed, my voice a little breathless. He reached out, his hand brushing against my waist, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“You look like you could use a dance,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

I didn’t need to be asked twice. My body moved instinctively, gravitating toward him as the music pulsed around us. His hands found my hips, and I slid mine around his neck, our bodies pressed together as we swayed to the rhythm. The heat between us was undeniable, the tension building with every beat.

His lips brushed against my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt of electricity through me.

I didn’t respond—I didn’t need to. Our lips met in a hungry kiss, the world around us fading into the background. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened for him, our kiss deepening as the music swelled around us. His hands slid lower, gripping my ass as he pulled me closer, our bodies grinding together in a way that left no doubt about what we both wanted.

The DJ’s voice cut through the haze of desire, his voice booming over the speakers. “Ten!” he shouted, the crowd roaring in response.

I barely registered the countdown, too caught up in the heat of the moment. Ethan’s lips moved to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone as his hands explored my body.

“Nine!” the crowd shouted, their voices a distant hum in the back of my mind.

I could feel the tension building, the energy in the club reaching a fever pitch. My fingers tangled in Ethan’s hair, pulling him closer as his lips found mine again.

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

The numbers blurred together, the anticipation in the air almost palpable. Ethan’s hands were everywhere, his touch electric, his lips trailing fire across my skin.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

The music reached a crescendo, the bass pounding in time with my racing heart. Ethan’s lips were on mine again, our kiss almost frantic now, our bodies pressed together so tightly I could feel every inch of him.

“Two!”

“One!”

The DJ’s voice roared over the speakers, and the second the countdown hit zero, the club was enveloped in a thick, swirling mist. It was sudden, disorienting, the fog so dense I could barely see Ethan in front of me. The air felt charged, strange, like the atmosphere itself had shifted.

I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and when the fog finally began to dissipate, something felt… off. The taste of Ethan’s kiss lingered on my lips, but the desire that had been coursing through me moments ago had been replaced by something else—something primal, urgent, and entirely new.

I turned, my eyes locking onto Jenna. She was standing nearby, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. The sight of her sent a surge of heat through me, a hunger I couldn’t explain. It was like a switch had been flipped, every thought in my head consumed by the need to have her.

“Jenna,” I growled, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

She turned to me, her lips parting in surprise, but before she could say anything, I was on her. My hands grabbed her hips, pulling her against me, my lips covering hers in a searing kiss. She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders, but I didn’t give her a chance to protest. My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as my lips trailed down her neck, biting and sucking at her skin.

“What are you—mmph!” Jenna started to say, but I cut her off with another kiss, my tongue plunging into her mouth as my hands began to tear at her clothes. The fabric of her dress ripped easily, the sound of it tearing drowned out by the roar of the music and the heavy pounding of my heart.

“I need you,” I growled, my voice rough with desire. My hands were everywhere, touching, groping, claiming her. I could feel her trembling beneath me, but she wasn’t pulling away. Her body was responding to mine, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I pushed her back against the wall.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan with Lila. He had her pinned against the bar, his hands gripping her head as he thrust into her mouth. Lila’s eyes were wide, but she wasn’t resisting, her lips wrapped around him as he groaned loudly.

“This slut’s mouth feels better than yours would’ve,” Ethan snarled, his voice dripping with lust and something darker—something almost cruel.

The words sent a shiver of arousal through me, but I didn’t have time to dwell on them. Jenna was arching into me, her hands clawing at my back as I claimed her mouth again. The taste of her was intoxicating, her body soft and yielding beneath mine. I could feel the wetness between her thighs, and the thought of how she’d feel around me made me groan with need.

My hands slid lower, gripping her ass as I lifted her, pressing her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders as I ground against her. The friction was maddening, the heat between us overwhelming.

“Fuck me,” Jenna whispered, her voice trembling with need. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen from my kisses. “Please.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. My hands fumbled with my belt, my fingers trembling as I struggled to free myself. The moment I was out, Jenna reached for me, her hand wrapping around my length and giving me a firm stroke.

“Hurry,” she whimpered, her breath hot against my ear.

I lined myself up, her heat almost unbearable as I teased her entrance. “You want it?” I growled, my voice thick with lust.

“Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into my skin. “Please, I need it.”

I thrust into her in one swift movement, the sensation almost too much to bear. She was tight, wet, and perfect, her body clenching around me as she cried out. I didn’t give her a chance to adjust, my hips already moving, driving into her with a ferocity that left us both breathless.

“Fuck, yes,” Jenna moaned, her head falling back as I pounded into her. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her nails leaving marks as she clung to me. Every thrust pushed her higher, her cries growing louder as she spiraled toward her release.

It was raw, primal, and entirely unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The mist had changed something in me, awakening a hunger I didn’t know I had. Jenna’s body was my only focus, the only thing that mattered as I claimed her again and again.

“Harder,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers with a force that made her scream. The sound sent a jolt of pleasure through me, spurring me on as I drove her closer to the edge.

Jenna’s gasps turned into an unhinged cry, her body arching off the dance floor as I drove into her with relentless force. Her nails raked down my back, and I hissed at the sharp sting, but it only fueled me further. This wasn’t just sex—it was an explosion of raw need, a hunger that burned through every nerve in my body.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she screamed, her voice trembling between pitches. Her legs clamped around my waist, pulling me deeper, harder. I could feel her tightening around me, her body convulsing in waves as she neared her peak.

I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her soft skin, and pounded into her like a man possessed. The rhythmic slapping of our bodies echoed through the club, blending with the bass of the music. Her cries grew higher, more frantic, until they broke into a full-throated scream. Her body shuddered violently, and then—

She came hard. Her pussy clenched around me like a vice, and I felt a rush of warmth as she squirted, soaking the floor beneath us. Her thighs shook uncontrollably, and she let out a strangled moan as the intensity of her orgasm consumed her.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. The sight of her writhing in ecstasy, the feeling of her tight, wet heat around me—it was too much. My own release was building, a fire in my gut that threatened to consume me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I growled, my voice rough and guttural. My hips slammed into hers with a final, desperate rhythm. My balls tightened, and then I was coming, hard and fast, my cock pulsing deep inside her.

I roared as I emptied myself into her, the pleasure so intense it felt like my body was shattering. My vision blurred, my muscles locked, and for a moment, I was lost in the pure, animalistic bliss of it.

I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting, drenched in sweat and the evidence of our frenzy. My cock was still buried inside her, twitching with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I could feel her heartbeat racing against my chest, her breath hot and shallow against my neck.

I pulled out of her slowly, my cock still twitching, and stood up, my chest heaving. I looked down at Jenna, her legs splayed open, her body trembling. My cum was already dripping out of her, sliding down her thighs and pooling beneath her on the sticky floor. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips—messy, raw, perfect.

The mist around us began to thin, dissolving like smoke in a breeze. The hard thump of the bass dropped away, leaving nothing but silence, heavy and unnatural. The lights flared to life, harsh and white, slicing through the shadowy haze of the club. What the fuck was going on?

What do you mean thats not what you meant? I've been 6'5 since middle school bro. You feeling ok? Hey man, if you think im hot i'd take it as a compliment, I can see you gettin all flutered and shit. hell i'd even let you give me some sloppy, but no homo bro.

Why would i stop calling you bro, bro?

By the way, you've been looking pretty jacked yourself, bro.

Sebastian had never looked better.

The Pride parade glittered around him like a moving carnival of pleasure, and he was its centerpiece: cropped mesh tee clinging to his lean chest, glitter tracing his sharp cheekbones, shorts so tiny they were barely legal. His thighs were smooth, polished, skin shining under sunscreen, smelling faintly of coconut and vanilla.

He was the kind of boy you photographed, then lusted over in bed later. A tight, shaved, pink-cocked twink who knew his worth, mouth dripping with practiced sarcasm, sipping from an overpriced iced matcha with a metal straw.

And then she showed up.

Blocking the sidewalk, muttering psalms, fanning herself with her palm like she could brush the queerness off the streets with sheer disgust. Floral dress, Bible tucked under one arm like a purse, cheap gold cross hanging on her wrinkled chest. Damp, angry, lost.

Sebastian couldn’t resist.

“Oh, honey,” he drawled, stepping in front of her, hand on his cocked hip. “Didn’t you hear? God doesn’t do RSVP anymore. He’s too busy ghosting your church.”

Her eyes snapped to him, pure Christian rage, centuries of sermons packed into that pinched glare.

“You boys flaunt your sins. But pride cometh before destruction.”

Sebastian laughed, flipping his bleach-blond fringe. “Destruction? Bitch, I am destruction. Have you seen my ass?”

That’s when she said it. Quiet, almost like she was saying it to someone else:

“Then let your pride be your curse.”

The heat hit first.

Not hot like summer.

Hot like infection.

His stomach cramped, sharp and sudden, sloshing the matcha inside him like sour milk. Sweat prickled at the small of his back, dampening the elastic waistband of his cute little shorts. His first instinct was to gasp—but the noise that came out was wrong. Too low. Gravel under silk.

He staggered backward, trying to keep balance on his delicate Converse, but something was off with his weight. He felt heavier. Meatier. The mesh stretched across his chest—no longer delicately showing his ribs, but pushing against something… dense.

“Fuck… the hell’s goin’ on…” The slur in his voice wasn’t his usual camp. It was lazy. Like someone who couldn’t be bothered to speak clearly.

His armpits—once fresh, sweet, carefully scrubbed this morning—were wet. And not twink sweat. Man sweat. Sharp. Acrid. The smell hit him like a punch. Like the time he’d accidentally walked into the men’s wrestling locker room at his old high school.

“Ughh—” he gagged, raising an arm, seeing—no, smelling—thick, curling black hair spreading under there like invasive weeds. Sweat beads clung to it, trickling down his smooth torso, leaving salt trails.

A group of lesbians on the curb gave him a look. Pity. Confusion. And worst of all: disgust.

“N-no, I—I don’t—” His voice cracked downward again. Meaty. Dumb. Someone else’s dad’s voice emerging out of his pretty-boy throat.

And then it happened.

BRRRRRAPPPPP.

The fart burst out of him like a wet cough, long, bubbling, hot. It clung to his thighs, greasy and rancid, curling upward into his nose.

And worse—he liked it.

The shame hit next. His cheeks burned. His body felt like it belonged at a sports bar now, not a Pride parade. The kind of man who sat on the porch shirtless scratching his gut and yelling at CNN.

A tremble ran down his arms, and he saw it—hair. Curling along his forearms, spreading like a plague, darkening as his toned twink arms bulked, flesh puffing up under his skin.

And the thoughts started trickling in.

Fuckin’ fruits everywhere…

“No! No, I don’t— I’m gay, I’m fucking—” he whimpered, voice cracking under panic, but already it sounded like a straight bro’s whine about having to mow the lawn.

The church lady just watched.

And smiled.

“Oh, honey. You wanted to mouth off. Now you’ll know what it’s like when a man speaks.”

Sebastian clutched his chest—but it wasn’t delicate anymore. It was swollen. Thick pecs pushing the mesh outward, nipples stiff beneath the fabric. It wasn’t a gay chest anymore—it was a dad chest. And the nipples weren’t cute—they were the kind of big, hairy ones you’d see poking out of beer-stained undershirts at county fairs.

He could smell himself stronger now. Like meat. Like a lawnmower left in the sun. The scent of his own armpits mixing with the sharp, sour male crotch scent rising from his shorts.

His free hand absently scratched at his belly, the lazy, gross gesture of a man who didn’t care who saw his gut, because he knew he was the boss of the backyard.

“Whole city’s gone queer…” he mumbled under his breath, farting again, hotter this time, cheeks flaring with shame—but another part of him, the growing, ugly, man part, didn’t even flinch. Just let it rip.

The last glitter on his face mixed with the new sweat, running in streaks like a washed-up birthday clown.

Somewhere, deep in the back of his fogging mind, Sebastian tried to cry out. To scream for help.

But the next words out of his own betraying lips were:

“Shoulda been home drinkin’ a fuckin’ Bud. Can’t even walk downtown without steppin’ in this gay shit.”

His pink-painted nails cracked, flaked, and yellowed like rotting petals, replaced with blunt, thick fingernails, dirt under the edges. Dad nails.

And still, the heat climbed.

Still, the smell got worse.

And still, he farted. Lazy. Wet. Like he didn’t even care.

The church lady just smiled softly, murmuring, “It’s only just beginning.”

It was spreading faster now.

Sebastian staggered into the middle of the street, clutching his chest, feeling it bubble. Not soft anymore—not cute. His pecs were growing, thick slabs of muscle pushing the mesh outward like a sausage casing about to burst. The nipples beneath were big, wide, swollen, ringed with dark hair curling outward like spider legs around bottlecaps.

It wasn’t cute.

It was masculine. Ugly.

Alpha.

He reached up—instinctive, panicked—but instead of batting at his sweaty bangs, he felt coarse, thick sideburns growing downward along his jawline, bristling and greasy. His chin jutted outward, jaw squaring into a heavy, meathead block.

“No, no, no, I’m—I’m gay, I’m—”

The thought tried to rise, but got smothered by something filthier, louder:

“Fuckin’ gay shit everywhere. Buncha fairy boys prancin’ around like they ain’t gonna burn.”

He grunted, loud, full-bodied, dumb, as his neck widened, traps climbing up toward his ears. That delicate little Adam’s apple of his was now a thick knot of muscle and testosterone.

His forearms continued to explode outward, veins crawling up through layers of new bulk, wrist thickening, palms rough like sandpaper. Hair sprouted down his knuckles, curling black, greasy with sweat and street grime.

His mesh crop ripped straight up the middle, exposing a thick, sweat-slicked power gut, packed muscle under the layer of BBQ softness. His belly swelled with each greasy, bubbling fart that vibrated out of his shorts.

No longer a lean twink.

Now: a power-belly meathead.

“Shit… shit… fuckin’ can’t… fuckin’…”

His voice was gone. Completely. What was left was pure meathead jock: slurred, stupid, thick with muscle and beer. Like every word had to fight through inches of sweaty muscle before it left his throat.

The worst part? He liked it. The panic was shrinking, drowning under pure, chemical, testosterone-fueled pleasure. He grunted, absently scratching his gut, letting another BRRRAAAP rip against his sagging boxer briefs like a badge of honor.

And that’s when the tits started.

The images poured into his head like rotten milk over cereal. Bimbos. Trashy. Fucking huge, silicone, plastic-surgery disasters, wobbling and bouncing. Lip filler lips choking, gagging on his cock. In his new mind, the only purpose for women was to get bred and swallow cum.

“F-fuckkk… imagine those fuckin’ melons… face-fuck that bitch till she’s gaggin’ on it, knock her up nice n’ fat, give ‘er a real Christian fuckin’ family...”

Another fart. Another scratch at his sweaty, hairy gut.

His thighs were massive now—football-thick, veined, black hairs stuck to wet skin. His boxers could barely contain the lump swinging between his legs: not cute, not aesthetic, just fat, sweaty, dad meat, reeking of old cum, old sweat, and cheap aftershave.

People passing by stared—not with attraction now, but horror. Wrinkled noses. Gagging. Whispers.

But he didn’t care. Not anymore. He grinned, yellowed teeth on full display, sweat running into his thickening beard stubble, smelling like cheap chili dogs and backyard grills.

And then the last piece clicked into place:

“I gotta get home… Wife prob’ly needin’ me… Got work tomorrow, gotta take the boys to church after I bust a load into that fat fuckin’ pussy.”

Wife. Kids. Church. It was all there now, as real to him as anything had ever been.

“God gave us tits for a reason,” he muttered, like quoting a favorite verse.

Behind his eyes, the parade blurred into nonsense. Gay shit. Waste of taxpayer money. Drag queens? Disgusting. Faggots prancin’ around in dresses? Should be arrested.

All that mattered now was God. America. Breeding.

The church lady nodded. “A strong father. That’s what the Lord makes of prideful boys.”

BRRRRPPPTT.

The final fart echoed off the surrounding buildings, loud, bubbling, stinking of hot dog water, wet socks, and cum. His boxers clung to his hairy ass, damp with sweat and flatulence.

And then he saw her again. The woman.

And—God help him—he knew her.

Not just knew her.

Recognized her.

Memories erupted behind his eyes, slamming into his brain like sledgehammers.

Sunday school picnics. The pastor’s office. Wedding vows. Kids. Kids screaming for more juice boxes. Buying lumber at Home Depot. Standing in church with this woman on his arm. Wearing a sweat-stained baseball cap backward like a real man.

“I—I fuckin’—you’re my wife…” he gasped, horrified, but also— excited. His cock twitched, fat, ugly, dad meat pressed against his overstuffed boxers, a wet sweat stain forming under the outline of his swelling, half-hard junk.

“Bradley,” she said gently. “Kiss your wife.”

He tried to resist.

His face lunged forward.

He grabbed her, meaty hands wrapping around her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress bunched up under his cracked fingers. And then kissed her—wet, sloppy, greasy—smashing his lips against hers like a drunken trucker coming home from a fishing trip.

She didn’t fight it. Welcomed it. Tongue sliding against his, tasting the tang of old chili dogs and last night’s beer farts on his breath.

He pulled back, panting, belching softly, sweat pouring down his sides, stomach pushing against her like a fat dog desperate for a rub.

“F-fuck, I missed these lips,” he slurred, like the memory had always been there, just buried under Pride flags and TikTok dances. “Wife always got the nicest knockers too…”

His eyes darted down to her chest, the matronly swell of fabric over old-fashioned brassiere. In his head now: a flood of thoughts.

Bimbos. Huge fake tits. Choking. Gagging. Breeding. Belly round with his cum. Fucking pregnant, like God wanted.

He grunted, loud, crude, gripping her hips possessively. “Fuck, babe, I’m gonna knock you up again. Give us another little Republican. Name ‘im after my dad.”

RRRRTTBBPPPTT.

Another wet, lazy fart buzzed through the overstretched crotch of his boxers. Didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even care. Just scratched his hairy belly, letting the stink leak upward, curling around both of them like a curtain of pure man.

His cock pulsed, stiff, throbbing, eager for bimbos, for cheap motel rooms, for knocking up dumb sluts with full lips and empty heads.

“Fuckin’—fuck, I’m so horny, babe… Gotta dump a fat fuckin’ load somewhere soon… Maybe after church, yeah?”

The glitter on his cheeks was just streaks of sweat now, dripping into his scruffy beard, stubble thickening into a lazy conservative chin-strap, crusted with drool from that sloppy kiss.

The crowd backed away, faces twisted in revulsion.

Sebastian was gone.

Bradley, 39, Christian father, MAGA voter, fart machine, tits-obsessed, proudly ignorant, heterosexual, dumb, sweaty, horny, married, and ready to fuck.

He grinned, cock throbbing against the stinking fabric of his wet boxers, fist resting against his gut like a proud lion surveying his territory.

“God, beer, tits, and family. That’s all a man needs. C’mon, babe. Let’s go home an’ make another Republican.”

And then—burp.

On the night of Hallows Eve, it is a witches duty to cut the strings of reality free and bind those she anoints to the powers that be. When Samantha Disdra was making her plans she had a lot in mind but thought what better way to consort the ancient powers then to do it with friends in revelry. It was the perfect night to gather them all together, all that excess joy and anxious energy would fuel the ritual and would create a space that let reality meet fiction. Where fairy tales, comic books and horror movies would grasp the mortal mind and let their vessels feel nothing but euphoria. For one night and one night only (unless some idiots stepped outside the spells range) her and her friends would let the masks take over and id run free.

She made sure that the ritual wasn’t permanent and set aside all of her tasks in the mundane world to prepare for this. Inviting all of her friends from college, her boring but nice co-workers and her boyfriend the stage was set, she just had to make sure Thomas bought everything on the list and wore their matching costumes, a cheerleader and a quarterback. A perfect easy way to ensure they would enjoy their night together and let loose, as long as they both wore the costumes.

A night of merriment, fun and raunchy sex couldn’t hurt anyone and it would all feel like a fever dream and less like a magical orgy.

Skylar______Pov

Listen when I say this, it's not that I just don’t care about Halloween, I mean I used to love it when I was a kid sure but now I'm like twenty six and am trying to get my shit together. Some of my friends would joke around and call me the dad of the group because of how I save, or handle things in a serious manner, or even with how I dressed in khakis, cargo shorts or new balance shoes. Basically saying shit like I was frugal or that I needed to lighten up but who could they actually rely on to drive them home after parties? Me and I wouldn’t even be petty and tell them off, just get them to the door and be on my way.

So I didn't really go for a costume when I was invited to my friend Samantha’s party. I knew she was really into the season and her vibe screamed Halloween but I was way more into just hanging out. So hopefully no one would put up a fuss or I could at least hang out with her pretty average boyfriend Thomas who was like a younger me, twenty going on twenty one who loved to party but also just wasn’t into any theme. We had known each other for over a year since they started dating and in that time I had really found a bro. 

So he was my saving grace in this, I would maybe drink a little. See about hooking up with someone and if all else fails uber home and watch some horror film. It was going to be a good night no matter how it went and I was just going to go with the flow and get some time to let loose with my friends. Hey if there were no problems at all maybe next year I might “TRY” to find a costume for this, yeah when pigs fly.

I looked at myself in the mirror, my polo was crisp, a light blue that I loved and was loose enough for me to be comfortable. My cargo shorts while old were perfect for keeping my phone, keys, wallet and a few other things through the night necessities on me  (like aspirin). My long white socks and new balances finished the fit off perfectly, sure I’d get called a dad again but it was better to just go with it instead of fighting it. Hell, I'll bring a pair of sunglasses with me so that if I need to I can pop my collar and put those on and just say I’m “Cool Dad” or something.

Thomas____ Pov

God Samantha was going to be such a bitch tonight. She had given me basically an entire laundry list of things to do, to help her prepare for her party but my god some of this shit was so random. I mean it was bad enough that she bought me some dumbass football costume but then I had to go to a butcher shop in 2025 for some specific goat meat and then some weird spice and incense place. Mind you that is after shopping around eight different grocery stores, what was I to this woman some fucking butler. It drove me up a fucking wall being treated like a servant and less like a partner, just because I was younger and still in college didn’t mean I was just some stupid frat boy.

Hell I didn’t even work out that much to be a frat boy or a dumb jock and I definitely wasn’t wearing some awful jock costume at the behest of my girlfriend. Lets not sell myself short, I may not workout much, and I focus more on school but I was still attractive. Slim build with some tone, I had a decent chest and a stomach people worked their asses off to achieve (thank god for 20 year old metabolism). My girl also always complimented my ass, sure it gave me the wrong type of attention normally when I DID decide to dress in tighter clothes it would always show.  Hell Sam called it a bubble butt, she also was kind of a big fan of my dick, heh god we had so much fun.

 I walked through the door, my head held high and biting my tongue. There was a lot I was willing to do but I was not going to get in a fight with her on her favorite holiday. Moving through fake cobwebs, hanging ghosts and walking past coffins and fake skeletons I found my way into the kitchen. Sam was in the dining room, her back turned to me as she looked over a comically sized cauldron basically meditating.

“Hey babe, i got the things you asked for?” I was a little worried, curious too but mostly worried, what was she into? She was wearing that cheerleader fit, my god she was hot. Kind of made the crazy worth it the way that the spandex hugged and accentuated her curves. Her hair a beautiful blonde tied up in a high pony, and going back to those curves- that skirt was so small and perfect I couldn’t wait to lift it up tonight an-

“Oh, perfect just in time you have like 30 minutes to get ready, you can leave that there and I’ll finish up!” She says not even looking behind her to see me, just chipper and happy with getting what she wants. I drop the stuff, and walk out. Sure, I’ll be ready but I was not going to dress up, especially without even a proper hello or greeting for getting her what she wants. 

“Okay see ya then babe!” I walk up the stairs changing into my business casual clothes, a polo and shorts. Sure Sam would be pissed but I would make it up to her later and that's something I could promise.

_________________________________ Skylar

The entire block was busy, covered in cars and halloween decorations, if there was one thing Samantha was good at, it was throwing a party. I remembered meeting her the first time at the office like five years ago and she was the life of the party at every function she put together. It was like magic and damn was she a fucking smoke show. Like don’t get me wrong Bro code is everything but sometimes I wonder about what it would have been like if I could have just gotten a piece of that. Sure her boyfriend treated her well but I know I’d just ruin her.

I’m glad she invited me, I know we didn’t always get along at the beginning, her first party I had gotten a bit more than just my normal drunk and made a pass at not just her but all the women at the office. To be fair, I was just fresh out of university and didn’t really know the corporate landscape. Now I’m a much wiser guy five years later and me and her get along great. 

If I thought the street was packed, the front lawn was insane, multiple people drinking and hanging out in costumes. So many different types of superheroes, i mean I know everyone loved the MCU. There were plenty of captain americas, Spidermans and winter soldiers, even that new sentry guy, i just didn’t think I would see nearly as many supermans and wonderwomans. Hen there were all the slashers and horror movie villains. A good variety this year, and nothing really shocked me except for maybe the fact that some of these guys on the lawn were dressed just as slutty as some of the girls. Not used to that heh.

Pushing through the crowd and past the giant spider and gravestone decorations I made my way inside. Everything was covered in scary and aesthetically pleasing decorations, furniture draped with seasonal throws, snack platters themed around candy and walls lined with different spooky halloween scenes. It was like a halloween wonderland and I almost felt like a kid again, sure I wasn’t all that into the whole holiday anymore but this was amazing. AND SO WERE THE WOMEN. My god the amount of baes dressed in basically lingerie I couldn’t help but gawk at first, there was this one nurse that i couldn’t stop staring at her chest until she said something.

“You’ve got your own tits bozo look at them instead of mine!” Damn she had some bark, and it snapped me back into reality and reality was still surrounded by babes. Some of whom had heard the nurse and gave me a look and others who were getting too drunk to care. I’m glad the girl pointed out that my chest was showing off in this polo, I really did want to show off the gains from the gym, especially if I wanted to pick up some ass tonight.

I had to make sure I got an early start with everything, Sam made it very clear that the real event would start pretty soon after the initial start of the party and that I wouldn’t want to miss a single moment. She also said to “make sure I had my costume on right and didnt get confused”, again fuck doing some of this bullshit but this part seemed serious. I really hated cryptid bullshit but she was a party queen and anything she was doing would be fantastic

I ran into a few different women, each hotter than the last, some with boyfriends and some freshly single and very open to flirting and most of them said about the same thing unprompted, which was “what were you supposed to be?” and then without me even being able to answer “Oh your probably “Dad” right that's such a dad fit” I guess I was right that they would make comments. Just didn’t expect it to be in mass, it only was a problem right before I finally found my Bro when this smoking chick walked up to me.She was dressed up like this angel, wearing a white lingerie corset and some skimpy shorts. Her wings were tiny and halo just a simple plastic circle painted to gold. She looked slutty and just my type.

“Hey, what are you drinking there?” I try to just act casual, eyes focused on her, she had so much makeup on it was impossible to ignore. 

“Oh just whatever is in the punch bowl, it's like totally jungle juice!” She's vapid, probably already drunk. Her drink sloshing around in its red solo cup as she looks at me. My eyes are trying hard to stare at hers and not her tits. I want to keep this conversation going it be a guaranteed fuck later I kept telling myself.

“So what are you? My sexy guardian angel?” God this was so cringey, I hated this part of picking up girls at parties. It was always hard to think of a good pickup line that would actually get me what I wanted. She makes a face but passes it off I think

“Heh, Like I don’t think that's what the package said when I like bought it” She twirls her hair, taking a sip of her drink, okay i made it awkward fuck. The room was starting to feel heavy, like the air was slowly taking on this weight, or maybe presence. The music in the background began to quiet and this dull, intrusive thump of a heart beat began to peak through, the walls looked like they were moving and swelling, the decorations becoming abstract. I swear I saw the lights in the room flicker and the floor shake, but it's like I couldn’t outwardly react, my body refusing to register this insane event transpiring.

“Well maybe we can look at a different pa-” before I can finish my Bro Thomas walks in putting his hand on my shoulder. I feel this thrum in my body, like my own heart matching the beating walls and sounds, the angel girls eyes looking between the two of us. Words whispering in the air, brushing against my ear and forcing them into my head. A small pulse slowly echoing through my body.

“Aye bro so glad I’m not alone in this!” I immediately feel him give me a bro side hug patting my back. He was dressed in something similar to me, a light blue polo and tan shorts. 

“Ofcourse man you know i’m not one to..” Before I can finish the angel bimbo interrupts me.

“Omg that's so cute you guys did like a duo costume as father and son!!” she audibly eeks this, and for a second I’m filled with this sense of dread. That pulse from before gets bigger, heavier, the words others have said earlier whisper louder, clearer. “Omg you're dressed like such a dad” or “what are you supposed to be a dad?”  My chest starts to feel heavy as the heart beat gets louder and the pulse settles in my chest the words “You’ve got your own tits bozo look at them instead of mine!”. My eyes are circling the room, I see other people in the room look around confused, some lost in a daze/trance.

“Its a kind of weird COUPLES COSTUME to be father and son but whatever floats your boat!” the angel's eyes sparkle as she says it, her halo starting to glow brightly. Her words come out more certain and self assured. Those words hang heavy as she says them, both me and Thomas sputter out some sort of response, saying that they were straight. That we’re not dressed as father and son but it falls on deaf ears or maybe the beating is getting too loud.

“Father- Son - Father Son- Father SON, FATHER SON!” Dissonant voices whisper in my ear, my eyes squinting as it repeats over and over again. I look over at Thomas and I feel that same PULSE from earlier reaches out and extends to him. Wrapping around him, tying us together with a knot, my stomach flipping, blood pumping through my body as my breath gets more erratic. 

“Couples Costume, Couples Costume, COUPLES COSTUME!” The voices start overlapping again, that magical knot strengthens, the blood pumping in my body starts moving lower, that warm pulse echoes and I feel my cock start growing, my balls churning.

That warmth gets hotter as my chest rises but refuses to fall getting bulkier, my shirt stretching as pillowey pecs forming strain the fabric of my polo. My nipples harden and bulge, becoming more sensitive as 

“No listen babe, I was totally ooogling your tits, I am not into Thomas or any dudes massive pecs or hungry bubble butts and long cocks… What the fuc-” The last words spill out of my mouth without my control the girl just laughs. Thomas looks scared, his body freezing up, his own breath hitchiung and my eyes can help but travel down to his shorts, landing right on his bulge as it slowly distends the fabric, pushing further out as he gets harder and harder.

Words echoing louder and louder from before “Omg you're dressed like such a dad” or “what are you supposed to be a dad?” God it was getting so hot in here, so hot and I was getting so horny I tried to focus on any of the women in here, all in different stages of transformation as they suffer the same as we do. My eyes finally landed back onto the bimbo, now basically an angel and l can’t help but wonder and maybe worry what happens to me next, eyes drifting to her tits for one last glance. “You’ve got your own tits bozo look at them instead of mine!” My chest is getting heavier, hair piling onto it all of a sudden as shivers go up and down my spine. Images of a Life I have never had start trying to bombard me.

“Uhuh, I’m sure that's true DADDY, you and your son have fun being perverted sinners in public!” Her words echo and blast into me joining the chorus, her wings look larger and her halo glows as she begins to float away. The other people at the party convulse, and grab their heads, some of their costumes like masks and skin tight muscle suits begin to sink into flesh, becoming impossible to remove, moans and groans echo the halls as the beating walls continue to beat faster and faster.

“Bro, Bro, whats going on bro, I can’t can’t…FUCK..Bro..DA..Bro my my cock!” Thomas’ hands move up and down his body feeling himself. His skin shifted,  his forearms toning as his biceps bulging.

“Dude..Fuck, your so..so..ho..Dude I thin..I think people are becomin..becoming fkkk… becoming their costumes dude!” I say through gritted teeth, I feel my arms grow heavy as they gently caress my growing pecs. I see hair start growing up and down my arms in smatterings, skin aging as it reconstructs. Muscle packing on as my shoulders broaden and biceps become boulders. My neck widens, Adam's apple expanding rapidly as my voice deepens and moans. Why did I keep looking like Tom-Thomas like that

The people at the party are going crazy, their transformations happening rapidly. I watch in fascination as a guy dressed up as Nightwing with a rainbow chest symbol instead of his normal blue, with an obvious butt pad throws his head back. His body filling out to perfectly fit the suit, his chest these perfect mounds, with strong shoulders. His waist trims perfectly, and his bulge rapidly grows to fill out his pouch. His cock and balls pushed obscenely against the fabric. He’s wailing in moans of pleasure as his thighs thicken into perfect thunder thighs and his calves carve into diamond.  I watch the obvious stiffs pads this man had probably put in the back of his suit begin to sink into his flesh, the padding rippling and jiggling as it becomes flesh-like. The last thing to change is his face, his jawline getting sharper and lips poutiers. His hair goes from curly blonde to slick black. Becoming what looked clearly like a porn parody of nightwing as he groped his new fat jiggly ass.

“Fuc..My … Dadd.. but we dont..Fuck.. ASS.. we don’t have a costume Bro, like clearly we don’t, neither of us fucks with the holiday like that!” Thomas screams, his mind fighting off the changes as his shorts inseam shrinks smaller and his shirt gets tiger. His pecs pushing it further, my mind drifts to us in some garage gym, me over him, domineering in just some basketball shorts as he does some bench presses. My eyes roaming his body as he drips sweat, his face looking up at me in lust.

“Fucks, no we..we don’t boy..Fuck bro but everyone says we do.” My once average trim build explodes as a muscle gut forms on my stomach pushing my shirt even farther, my back muscles tensing and growing, My legs are next becoming tree trunks, my shorts barely keeping up as my ass and erection push the seams to their limits. My ass was like two globes and my cock went from an above average six inches to a fucking monster ten inches. Fuck I.. Fuck I am so horny and my boy, no my bro is right there, still fighting it.

No that wouldn’t do, no I needed my Br… Boy, fuck no this wasn’t me, I’m not his Dad, I’m not his father, I’m Skylar, I work in a shitty ass company to- PROVIDE FOR MY BOY- fuck no, I’m Skylar and I work for me..Me and my boy to have a good life. Yeah I’m Tommy’s Daddy and I couldn’t wait to…to.. We need to fix this. Looking at Tommy’s struggling face and slowly inflating muscles I couldn’t help but lick my lips or I could give in. I could give into this fucked up fantasy and have my way with my son, my boy, my TOMMY. I could let this magical energy thrum through me and age me further, what was I now thirty-nine, no I was forty-three. Fuck and Tommy looked like he was just entering college fuck my son was so hot and he was only going to get hotter.

___________Thomas- Soon to be Tommy

The party was getting insane, people were literally losing themselves to their costumes. I had tried to find Sam earlier, talk with her and tell her I was upset about how I was being treated but I just couldn’t, not with the crowd moving around the way it was. I just had to mingle and drink my feelings until I found my da- BRO I mean my Bro and that chick called us father and son, and a couple?! Oh my god it was almost as insane as the magic transformations and shit. But watching Da- Dad- im trying to think hjis name but DADDY keeps burning my brain instead. 

Looking over at him as energy pulses through the both of us I can’t stop my eyes from widening. A look of insanity and pleasure plastering itself on his slowly aging face as his sin becomes slightly weathered. Wrinkles crossing his face, facial hair sprouting around his lips and stronger chin, and his hair taking on a salt and pepper look. My bro was looking like some dude in his forties instead of a twenty-six year old. Not to mention how his thickening neck led to broader shoulders, massive arms and a pillowey set of pecs I couldnt wait to moto- Fuck no I do not want to motor boat this man tits.

No this wasn’t happening, I would not let it change me. That weird litany of voices and thumping of a distant but loud heart beat kept echoing as a warm pulse kept battering against my mind. Trying to change me, who I am like it was changing DADDY, no he’s not. Fuck if I keep thinking of him the more it changes him in my mind to be daddy I need it to not. I felt the thrum of power through my mind and down my body anchoring me further to… da..him. His gaze turned to me, corrupted, insane and horny beyond comprehension.

“Boy, it seems like you're fighting the truth right now!” The way he says that feels bone chilling, his body moving closer to me as he stands tall and firm. His body heat radiating off of him as he gets so fucking close to me his mouth is right next to my ear. 

“Br.. Bro..DAD..what are you, what are you doing dAddy?” My voice catches in my throat, pitching up as words tumble out. I can’t stop this, my voice is cracking and getting higher than it was in puberty, I was sounding like SUCH A TWINK oh my god. Whats a fucking twink?!

“Just getting close to my son, don't you love me boy, don't you love your DADDY?!” The words ring in the air with the beating heart of the walls. The room is spinning and I feel each syllable latch onto me, burrowing into my skin, through my muscles, up my bones and into my mind. Breaking the barriers down. I grit my teeth.

I feel his hands reach out and slowly, gently caress my body, my torso trembling as his hands glides under my shirt and  around my body like a knife cutting through butter. That warm pulse expands where his hands go, the hair that laid there coiled and brown evaporates as if they were nothing. I hear him moan.

“No,. no Daddy stop..no this isn’t right..I’m not..not your boy, we..we were bros..Sk..DADDY please remember!” I almost get his name out, I can feel it, i’m gonna win, I think I can fight this stupid magic bullshit, I can take my life back. But trying to say his name IMMEDIATELY increases the intensity of whatever is going on, the thrumming power surging through the house focuses on me, I feel the rest of my body from the nose down become completely hairless, my skin softening and smoothing.

“No Boy, you don’t want me to stip do you, you want this, you want daddy, Daddy is good for you, Daddy knows best, if you want to be good you’ll listen to daddy, good boys LISTEN to DADDY don’t they? I think they do I think every good boy LOVES to listen to their DADDY and your the best GOOD BOY their is!” His hands started kneading my flesh, his words whispered directly into my ear as they battered my mind. My eyes tightened, trying to fight against this outside force. But as his hands moved, they moved lower till they slowly reached the top of my ass, his hands diving into my shorts, pulling them down with force as they SQUEEZED each cheek for every word he emphasized.

Magic pulsing through me as he focused on my ass, my body couldn’t help but arch my back, small moans leaping from my lips begging for more as I feel a PULSE rush through my body. My cheeks felt like balloons filling with air, fat and muscle growing my once average ass into jiggling mounds. My ass fatter and better then any of those basic bitches on instagram….. Wait, what the fuck was that thought, I don’t think like this, i don’t talk like that. Like some vapid, dumb stupid whore. I feel the front of my shorts strain as the waistband that was hanging onto the bottom of my cheeks gets fully distended.

“No..No Daddy, Daddy I don't, i dont want to be.. BE YOUR GOOD BOY!” I try and fight it, but as I do he rears his hand back and spanks my left cheek. My ass IMMEDIATELY rippling as sparks of pleasure rake through my body, eyes rolling back as words force themselves out of my mouth. My lips tingling and plumping mouth salivating as images of DADDY flood my mind. Him in different states of undress, his massive, delicious, leaking cock hanging over my face. His hairy chest being worshipped by my mouth, lips and tongue. His beautiful belly resting against my back as he rails me.

These aren’t real. I know they aren’t real, but it feels real. It feels good. Hours spent in the gym with daddy to hone my physique. I feel his hands leave my ass and drift up my back and around my chest. His fingers playing and manipulating my nipples. Like he was tuning the magic changing me for his pleasure. Making me in his image as any good daddy should. I was so lucky to have the best Daddy in the world. I felt my nipples grow, expand, becoming harder than diamond and one of my most sensitive spots.

Mass piling on my chest until they became perfect muscular peaks. Pillowey pecs that sat perfectly across my growing broad shoulders. He keeps playing with my muscle titties and I feel My waist tapered inward, making my giant ass and perky muscle tits look like such a hot fucking hourglass figure. I mean the way my Daddy’s hands just perfectly wrap around my trim waist and power fucks me. If I wasn’t close to cumming before I definitely was now. I feel abs cobble themselves together across my torso, my thighs becoming perfectly thick from the runs Dad makes me do and my calves like carved diamonds from soccer. My balls are churning so much cum as my cock leaks at just the thought of Daddy and being a good boy for Daddy, that's all I want to do, is be a good boy for him. That's all I could be was a GOOD BOY… No, find some fight Tommy…Tho..TOMMY..No my name's TOMMY.

I can’t let this happen. I didn’t know if this was permanent but I was losing my name, my mind, everything was reeling as I felt my father play with me. He’s not my..Fuck daddy was so good at tweaking my nipples, he was always so handsy when he drank. No, I had to get out, I couldn't stay. But wouldn’t it be so hot to unzip dad’s pants and let him rail me in front of everyone at this party? Daddy was so hot when he’d fuck me anywhere and everywhere, taking me however he wanted, his hand trailing down my back to my ass, his fingers parting my cheeks searching for my hole. I bit my lip as he did just that.

“You want it so bad, we made this ass in the gym for me TO FUCK. For me to USE. You exist and LIVE! For my pleasure. Fuck your such a hot fuck toy. Love thes fuckin tits, these muscles, your never leaving me are you boy?” His fingers were pressing against my hole, god they were so thick, so long, they felt good the pressure felt good he was teasing it. Tracing around it.

I felt the thumping heart get faster, the walls closing in, the echoing magic racing through my body and mind.Washing everything that didn't matter away, it was all garbage. My life, my sexuality, none of it mattered, only Daddy did.I hadn’t even thought of that cheerleader bitch since I got around Daddy, why would I, I was the gayest himbo you’d ever meet at my university and I only had eyes for one man and as he pushed gently against my hole, my eyes rolling and mouth moaning like a mad man I KNEW i was near the edge, my cock was so hard, begging for release, his finger inching in me, getting closer to my prostate I know I wouldn’t be back. But I didn't care. 

One hand fingering me, the other wrapped round my tits I started begging, not for it to stop, but for more. His finger thrusting in and out slowly, my naturally lubed up, wet hole letting it slide in and out getting a little deeper each time. But he refused to push my button to hit my prostate. He had an evil grin on his face, my moans weren’t enough. The primordial magic building further and further getting to a point it would erase EVERYTHING and he wanted me to say, for me to willingly give it up and I WAS READY TO.

“Fuck, Daddy please fuck me, please fuck me I need it. I need you, I need you in me. Please, please, please rail me, I need you Daddy. I wanna be your good boy, your cum slut, for you to fuck me monday to sunday however you want. Please I need you, USE ME, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DADDY!” My voice ringing through the halls, the magic completing as Daddy pulls his finger out and presses his cock against my hole, not even teasing my rack, hotdogging his dick between my thick cheeks. He was desperate just like me.

“Anything for my BOY!” And he thrusts in and EVERYTHING GOES WHITE. His thick ten inch monster obliterates me in every sense as I cum everything out. Firing load after load as the head of his cock pushes past my prostate and deeper then anything else ever would go. My body tensed and hole becoming a vice grip immediately trying to milk his cock. His moans were glorious as I let out a silent wail of pleasure. There was no such thing as pain with DADDY, there never would be. The feeling of his pubes against my ass was like nirvana being this full.

His hands on my waist as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in, moaning and groaning. “Fuck your perfect boy, your my perfect, amazing.,” He thrusts again going faster, my eyes going white as his words sunk into me, his hands holding my waist just so right. I could feel one of them move up to hold my shoulder, the other letting go and spanking my ass. Getting faster as his breath gets more ragged “Slutty, hot, sexy boy. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, I love you. I love you I love you I love you!”

“I love you Daddy, fuck you fuck me perfect, i love your body, your cock, your mind. Daddy please never stop fucking me!” I'm thrusting back to meet his thrust, my ass jiggling every time as they bounce back and forth. I can only imagine how hat daddy found that. The weight of his stomach fully falling on me, his pecs against my back and shoulders as he uses all his strength to fuck me how I deserve. He’s not talking anymore, he’s just moaning and grunting as he loses himself to pleasure. He isn’t the only one, everyone at this party is doing the same, falling to base carnal needs and desperation I had never seen before.

I know Daddy’s close I can feel it, he’s right on the edge and I am again. Daddy always made me cum so much from my useless cock. Fuck I need it I need it so bad I need dad to breed me.

“Please, Daddy, DADDY please Breed me Daddy, I need it, fuck it deep in me, i want to always feel you like this!!” my words echoing breaking into his mind like a command, that tether from earlier that connected us tying deeper as he gives in, whispering in my ear about how much of a dirty slut I was, how he would love to breed me forever and make me his cum slut. 

I was begging for us to cum together to have that epic release as father and son and he grunted deeply, agreeing, our balls tightening as everything started to get fuzzy and blurry around the edges, my life with Daddy solidifying further as he came deep into me, thrusting more and more getting it deeper with each load making me fire off my own. It was a solid five minutes of orgasming before we stopped, before he pulled out of me and stood up. Looking at me bent over a couch filled to the brim with his cum and looking at him with those pleading eyes like the horny slut I was. I couldn’t get enough of him and he just smiled.

Picking up our clothes and putting in a bag he had he put it around his arms before picking me up bridal style. Carrying me out of the house. Past the threshold of the magic and into the outside world. Where the spell would become irreversible. Our lives and reality soldifiying as Daddy took me home.

I loved my Daddy.

_____________________________________ Samantha epilogue.

I woke up to a trashed housed at five am. And all I could think was FUCK MY LIFE. ofcourse my useless boyfriend ended up not wearing the costume I picked out for him, but worse he was nowhere to be found and his room in the townhouse we shared WAS GONE. Not just his stuff his entire room. Like there was never another person living here.

To make it worse I felt like SHIT i don’t know how cheerleaders do it, All i know is im tired, exhausted, halloween was a success but I was single and pretty sure more then a few people left the damn threshhold and were out fucking up the barrier between reality and fiction out there. Oh well something to remember for next halloween!

_____________________________

What? I thought you said you wanted to be manlier? That’s exactly what I made you.

Don’t you feel that testosterone burning its way down your body? That newfound muscle aching to flex? Those tiny prickly feeling of new hairs sprouting all over your body?

Wardrobe Malfunction

Sometimes you want a break from being the size of an olympic freight train. Sometimes you just want to look cute and breedable, if only for a few days. 

A little while back managed to finally convince one of my bros to let me borrow one of his suits. Despite also being a gym rat, he owns an entire closet of every race and kind of twink you can imagine to go out as. Everyone's always intimidated by my size, so I'm always jealous whenever we go to parties together. He gets to have all the fun, while I just kind of stand in the back. He never lets me borrow them, no matter how much I beg, since they're all very expensive and way too fragile for my hulkish hands, in his words.

But he finally relented last week. Tonight I get to be the little guy this time.

I drove to his place and picked out a body to wear. The entire drive way home I had a big smile plastered on my face as I thought about what it would be like. 

I immediately take off my clothes and squeeze myself into the suit. My broad muscles compressing into the tiny 5'3 frame took much effort, but when I zipped myself up, it felt as if it was just another extension of me. My skin is super soft and smooth, free of gross body hair. And everything looks nice and petite. I spent a good while looking in the mirror, admiring the cute boy in the reflection, when I suddenly hear a loud rip. 

The suit couldn't handle the load anymore and gave in under the pressure, letting my original length shoot out into it. I panic, trying my best to tuck my cock back in, but it doesn't work.

Thoroughly defeated, I send a quick video to my friend.

After a while I get this message:

"What did I tell you dumbass. You should've been more careful. Do you have any idea how much these cost?!"

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to.. Do you have any replacement suits I can borrow?"

"Uhhh No. Not after this."

Im tired of blue dots like you messing shit up for us, the silent majority. That's right the majority. You might think youre "morally right" or whatever with your civil rights but that ends right here and right now bubba. No more grindr hookups, no more bottoming, no more of this clean shaven twink act. No. Im gonna make you the man you were born to be. Youre gonna be a womanizer, a breeder, real man's man. You can try to fight it all your want, you can try to stop it but look at how thick and heavy youre getting. Look at the hair creeping down yours arms. What? You think you cant be a country boy like me? Thats funny! Theres only one major difference between you an me: I embrace being a man and while you pretend youre not one. But youve got a cock, and by the way you cant stop rubbing it I bet its already hanging lower now, bet your foreskin has already regrown. Since you reach maturity I bet youve wanted to bury that cock deep in some pussy but your gay little brain told you not to. But im here to let you free. Im here to make you the man you were born to be. Trying to fight it? That's cute. Why dont you rub your head? Where did your twinky long locks go? They fell out. all that testosterone in your system now. You should see your beard. What do you mean what beard? Feel your face. Feel that long beard, your pride as a man, your mane. Bet chicks love it. They love your thick beard as your pound your cock deep into them, impregnate them, and make them carry your kids. What do you mean youd never do it? You already have. Look at you! thick, blue collar daddy, with a beard and a cock desperate for pussy. Youll never be able to play the twink now and I dont think youll want to anymore. Yeah thats it. give in. get sleepy. When you wake up youll be nothing but a pussy hound, just like you were meant to be.

Eddie faintly opened his eyes, watching the trees rush by through the window. The sound of the truck driving over dirt roads almost soothed him, reminding him of the road trips he used to do with his dad as a kid. But as the truck passed a tall barbed wire fence, he was reminded of the prison he was now stuck in.

The truck came to a stop beside a large building in the middle of the woods. Eddie, along with a couple of other guys around his age, were dragged out and forced to line up in front of the truck.

"You maggots all find yourself here because you lack respect. Respect for your families, for your country, and for masculinity." Shouted an intimidating man in a military uniform. "You will call me Sargeant and nothing else! Training starts immediately. You will be stripped of your possessions and shown to your room. Meet back here in 10 minutes or you will regret it!"

As the group made their way inside, the Sargeant stopped Eddie.

"Not you." He said, pulling Eddie back. "You're John's kid, right?"

"Ugh, yeah."

"Hah, just pathetic. Who knew a man like John could raise a freak like you. College rotted your brain, made you weak." The Sargeant laughed.

Eddie's eyes welled up as he thought of every time his father spoke to him just like that.

"Quit bitching!" He yelled. "Your father is a great man, he taught me everything I know. That's why he's entrusted me with making sure every last drop of queer is wrung out of you, and I won't let him down."

"My father is a monster." Eddie wiped away his tears.

The Sargeant frowned before slapping him across the face.

"I will break down every last part of you and rebuild you into a man your father can be proud of." The Sargeant smirks. "Now, put on some real clothes. None of that gay shit you're wearing."

He tossed a small duffle bag with some clothes inside. The smell of sweat hit him like a brick wall as he opened the bag. Eddie gagged as he pulled out a camo green jockstrap.

"It was your father's. I hoped it could make you more like him. Put it on. Now."

"What?" Eddie said, confused.

"You heard me! Stop being a pussy and get undressed."

Eddie got red as he started peeling off his clothes, revealing ribs under his pale skin. He paused for a moment, hesitating as he grabbed the jockstrap. He looked up at the Sargeant, feeling trapped by his intense glare. With an exasperated sigh, he slipped on the jockstrap.

The large jockstrap struggled to hold itself up around Eddie's skinny body. It looked comically large on him, but that wouldn't last long.

A warmth began to emanate from his crotch. His cock twitched as it started to swell, growing to a sizable 5 inches soft as it filled out the empty space in the jock.

"What the fuck!?" Eddie cried.

"Let it happen boy. That pecker of yours wasn't suitable for a real man, soon you'll be a breeding machine." The Sargeant laughed.

The jockstrap suddenly tightened around his waist as his flat ass rose like a loaf of bread, becoming round and perky. Something the gays would fawn over but couldn't have.

Even more, his chicken legs thickened as defined muscles rippled through his thighs and calves. And his shoes strained against his growing feet before bursting, showing off his wide, size 16 feet. Eddie was too distracted by his growing lower body to notice that he had grown taller, from a measly 5"6 to a more average 6"0, now standing eye to eye with the Sargeant.

Eddie desperately tried pulling the jockstrap off, but it didn't budge, as if it were part of him now.

"Not so fast." The Sargeant chuckled. "You ain't taking that off until every part of you has become worthy of being called a man."

Eddie struggled to find the words to say as the transformation continued to his upper body. His core tightened as his waist slimmed down, giving his body a V shape. His flat stomach rose into a strong set of abs with a healthy layer of fat on top. All while puffy muscles piled into his chest, creating two juicy pecs that bounced with every step he took.

"My god... This feels good." Eddie said in a completely foreign voice, deep and gruff, almost like his father's.

His body continued to grow. His height increased further, towering over the Sargeant at a staggering 6"5. And to match his height, his shoulders broadened, complimenting his large barrel shaped chest.

Eddie started to forgot how horrible this situation was as his arms surged with power. His biceps swelled to the size of his head, his forearms grew larger than his biceps used to be, and his hands doubled in size, becoming thick and calloused like those of an honest working man.

"That's right boy, enjoy it, you're becoming a real man!" The Sargeant shouted.

The muscles around Eddie's neck thickened as the transformation reached his head. His thoughts became cloudy as his face morphed. His jaw widened as his education faded away, being replaced by the traditional values instilled by his father. His skin weathered and aged as his time creating art turned into time hunting and training with his father. And his hair receded and shortened to a buzz cut as his boyfriend faded from his mind, being replaced by the countless girls from his hometown that he knocked up. But it's not his fault, strong seed just runs in the family, that's why Eddie's got countless half brothers and sisters out there.

And as a final touch, thick brown hairs began to sprout all over his skin as high levels of testosterone pumped through his body. A well trimmed beard grew across his sharp jaw, complimenting his receding hairline. And thick pelts of hair spread over his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. An intoxicating musky odour began to emanate from his body as sweat became trapped in his forests of hair.

"Feels good don't it." The Sargeant said as he approached Ed.

"Hell yeah, brother." Ed flexed with a dumb smile.

"Good man." The Sargeant patted him on the shoulder. "Here try these on for size."

The Sargeant pulled a hat, sunglasses, and boots out of the nearby duffle bag. They fit perfectly, making Ed look just like the other men helping run the camp, barring the lack of clothes.

"I like it Sarge." Ed said as he stepped onto the picnic table.

"Good. Though the clothes I brought for you won't fit, you grew larger than anyone here ever has."

"No shit I'm the strongest here." Ed started flexing again.