Just a collection of stuff that I enjoy! I mostly will reblog other artists so please check them out and give them some love too!@demonyaoi2 on Twitter
Fucking tops. It's Friday, nearly midnight and instead of dancing I'm stuck in the washroom at a gay club, hiding from some shithead.
"Tops, right?"
Next to me is a tall guy in a flannel shirt. He's pretty hot, but, urgh, he's the last thing I want to be thinking of right now.
"Yeah," I try to sound chatty, but it's clear I'm pretty annoyed "How did you know?"
He turns to me and crosses his arms, grinning, "Oh, you know. What happened? I bet you have loads of guys chasing after you"
It's true. I mean, look at this ass
"Urgh. This guy grabbed me from behind and started grinding against me. Can you believe it?? He didn't even ask, all I did was wink at him."
"Hmphh, you winked at him? Sounds like he was giving you what you wanted. You know, all you bottoms are the same. Needy. Demanding. Seeing real men as just dumb grunting animals. Maybe that guy was trying to do you a favour?"
I groan and turn around to leave "Oh, fuck you." Just what I need, another smug shithead.
He heckles me from behind. "God, twinks like you are so fucking lame. Maybe we're fed up of being nagged all the time?". He sounds kinda angry, but I ignore him, and roll my eyes.
"You know what, grab your dick."
I freeze, and my eyes go wide with shock. Why am I so shaken? That's not the worst thing I've heard at a club. I try to move but I can't, I just sputter, "Wh- what?? I'm not doing that"
He grins, "I'm not asking"
I feel something pull against my pants, but I look down and see it's my own arm
"WHAT THE FUCK! Are you... you're doing this?" My arm creeps down, playfully running my fingers over my tight stomach, and slips down through my waist band.
"Haha, yeah I am bro. So, bottom bottom bottom. What to do with you. What if I open your eyes a little?"
I, I start to shake. Something in me feels good. Beefy guys start to flash through my mind, and whatever's taken over my hand knows what it's doing down there. Athletes, wrestlers, big bulges in tight clothes...
"Here's the thing. There's enough brats like you around here bro. Someone's gotta do something. Think of it like, uh, giving back to the community."
The images in my mind start to change. The models get smaller, swapping out athletes for tight twinks in tighter shorts. Instead of biceps, I'm thinking of big, curvy asses, and my hand... I can't control myself. I wanna grab someone, anyone, and start grinding.
But then, one of my crushes slides by - Jason, a HUGE wrestler on my college team. Biggest pecs I have seen in my life. Thank fuck, finally, a real man. He looks at me with his big, brown eyes and oh my god, my heart flutters. I look up at him and in my mind I start to walk towards him
The guy in the flannels shirt is egging me on, "Go on, do it." How does he know what I'm thinking? Whatever.
I reach out, and Jason smiles. That big, goofy, handsome grin... and then he turns around. He gets down on the mats, on his hands and knees, raising his big, firm ass into the air. I'm looking right at it.
I squirm. "Oh god. No. No no no no no"
"Uh, actually, yes." The guy in the washroom grins. "I want you to be a dumb, grunting animal, you will do that for me. Are you starting to understand?"
I lean down over the sink, but in my fantasy I fall against Jason. I hold him tight, pinning his big sweaty form down against the mats. At first, there's barely anything I can do to control him - he's WAY bigger than me, but soon I start to feel... bolder. Firmer. He tries to roll me over, but I slip my arm around his shoulder and a vein pops up over my bicep. My legs strain and my glutes start to stretch. Fuck, my whole body is throbbing.
I grunt, and slam him downwards, which gives moment to catch my breathe. Does he feel less sweaty? I wipe my forehead. Wait, am I more sweaty?
"Yeah bro. I know what you're thinking, I know how much you love guys after they've worked out. Damp clothes, that manly smell... it's exactly what every bottom wants these days. Now it's yours"
We twist around each other, and I reach my arms across his body. Wait, all the way around? His shoulders have gotten smaller, thinner... twinkier. And, well, mine are the opposite. He lunges, but I grapple him. All the mass has gone from his legs, meanwhile, my biceps are big enough to crack a skull.
"I want to make you a real fuckboy, you know? Someone who just thinks with his dick. Gym, sex, gym, sex, gym, sex... I want you to always be turned on, I want it to control you, I want you to never get a break."
I've got him, firm between my legs. Jason's tiny now, the same size I was 2 minutes ago, and I start to grind my bulge against his soft, bubbly ass. Fuck. Fuck! It's so good. This is the best fantasy I've ever had in my life. I want to fuck him so bad.
My whole body is throbbing, shaking. Blood is pulsing through my, through my everything. Fuuuuuck. I feel almost dizzy. Everything about this almost feels real. I go to lift up my shirt, but it's gone, and I run my other hand over my stomach. It's like I can really feel the abs
I cum. Oh my god, did I just cum in a... a washroom at a night club? And, I was thinking about topping a guy??
"Ahem". I turn to stare at the guy next to me. He looks pleased with himself. Very pleased.
"There bro! How do you look?"
I look in the mirror, and it hits me like a fucking brick. My body... my clothes. Oh my god, everything's gone. THAT WAS REAL? I look like some stupid fuckboy. Am I a stupid fuckboy? Is that a JOCKSTRAP? My jeans are gone, now just a pair of shorts. Very short shorts. Is that it? Is that all I'm wearing? Over the top of my huge pecs I see my converses are gone too, swapped out for some worn down gym shoes.
This can't be real. If it is, my boyfriend is 100% going to break up with me. How do I even explain this? That I'm like, ripped now? No, wait... that's not it. I try to imagine him topping me but, but, fuck, it feels so gross. A total turnoff
"Of course you don't want to let him top you. You're not a bottom anymore... that's kind of the whole point."
But he would never let me top him. But maybe we don't need to have sex for a while. That wouldn't be so bad, would it...
"AHAHAHA, sorry, with your new sex drive? What part of a fucking animal don't you understand"
There's no way he would want to stay with a horny fuckboy, but, but...
what if I am a stupid fuckboy? I'm already thinking of a nice, tight twink. I'm not that interested in him anyway - he's too tall, too beefy. All the guys I saw earlier are racing through my head. The skinny guy I danced with with the great ass, that cute short one by the bar... urgh, he had those perfect legs, that cute crop top, tight stomach... I bite my lower lip and reach down...
"NO!!"
I start hyperventilating. "This isn't me. I'm not a jock, I am ABSOLUTELY not a top. And," I lift up my arm, "there's no way I actually smell like this"
He laughs, like he's having the fucking time of his life. Maybe he is. "HAHA, sorry dude, yeah you do. And, yeah, you are. Think of that fuck stick like a gift, not just to you, but also to every cute boy you see on grindr. You'll get used to it, trust me"
His words flood my head... I imagine scrolling through the app in bed later, looking at the sea of boys all desperate for me... I reach down again...
"NO! Fuck! Make it stop. Why are you doing this to me?!!"
He pauses for a moment, then sighs and shakes his head. His expression... he's looking at me like he thinks I'm stupid. Does he think I'm stupid? No way - this motherfucker!
"Really? I know I fried a few wires up there dude, but you cannot seriously be asking that. Why do you think I'm doing it?"
"I - I..." I can't find any words. I really don't know. I just don't fucking get it. He's ruining my body, my LIFE, and for what? Fun? Revenge?
But he laughs, and looks at me. I'd think he was being pitiful if he wasn't grinning so fucking hard.
"Bro," he says, "I'm doing this because I think it's hot."
My heart sinks. "You're doing this because, because it fucking turns you on? Don't you give a shit about me at ALL?? I'm going to lose my boyfriend, I'm trapped in this horny, sweaty, disgusting body..."
"Just stop complaining. You know, so what if you don't get in a say in this! Sometimes you just gotta take what life gives you, and right now that's a huge fucking cock"
I feel like I'm about to burst out crying. He grabs my new, boyish face, and pulls it up towards his. "So, yah! Glad I could clear that up," he laughs, "Look, ok, this isn't gonna work if you're gonna be such a fucking loser about it. It's also not gonna work out if you don't work out - you gotta be going to the gym from now on. Those biceps, those pecs... you're chiseled like a statue and I'm not gonna let those new muscles go to waste. You need to be in there DAILY."
He gives my cheeks a squeeze, then lets me go. I clutch my face. It feels different, unfamiliar. Am I crying?
"URGH, bro, will you just quit looking at me like that. Puppy dog eyes, I shouldn't have made you so fucking handsome... Look, I'm gonna give you one last chance, ok: cheer up, right fucking now, or else I'm gonna have to do some rewiring. Right now, all your decisions are being made up there", he flicks my forehead, and then he smirks and grabs my crotch. "But, if I flick the switch, this guy gets to do all the thinking. You'll be so dumb, so horny, HAH, you'll be drooling over your own dick. A real fucking animal. Got it?"
If I don't get a grip, it's over for me. But what do I do? I gulp, and try to swallow my tears. I wash my face a little in the sink. He stares down at me, and the two of us stand in silence. It feels like forever, but it must have been just a minute.
I look up at him, and let out a squeak. "Yeah. You're right. I got it"
"No." he says "I don't think you do."
Damnnnnn, look at these pecs. Fuck, what was I doing? Whatever, I gotta get back out there. See if that blonde guy by the bar is taken. Just thinking of him and his ass makes me wanna... I grab my crotch, and let out a moan.
Wait, is that cum? Yoo how did I not realise. I clean myself up and slide my waistband back over my jockstrap, letting it snap into place against my cum gutters. I flex, and light shines off my glistening, sweaty muscles - if someone were to see me now, they'd think I was a greek statue. These strong, firm thighs, the perfect curve of my glutes... these shoulders look like they were made by fucking Michelangelo.
Nah, I'm way better than that. A statue doesn't have a dick. See you at the club, bro
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Yeah apparently. You used the soap I gave you right? Come on, just give it a try.
Seriously this is a dumb prank. Who wants to be dumb jock anyway?
Sure I know you hate them, but you have to admit it would be cool to be hot and popular. Anyhow itâs not supposed to work if you donât actually want it. Come on give it a try, whatâs the worse that could happen?
Fine. But youâre deleting these pictures after. Iâm a⌠Iâm a âbroâ⌠oh shit
Haha the flexing was a nice touch.
No I didnât mean to. It just⌠happened.
Sure. At least you have a bit of a bicep peak âbro.â Say it again.
Ok, look, I swear I grew a little⌠my hair is lighter isnât it⌠and I feel⌠I feel different. Whatever Ill prove it to you. Iâm such a bRo⌠ugh fuck
Holy shit dude! That time you actually bulked up a little.
Yeah man⌠told you. Damn I actually have some muscle on me⌠my hairs definitely longer⌠and wow my voice.
Itâs deeper! Thatâs wild. Guess a part of you actually wanted this haha
I mean Iâm looking pretty hot.
Hah looks like youâre getting lost in your reflection a little. Sounds like youâre starting to want this.
I mean it feels good. The muscle, the confidence, and fuck⌠my dick is evenâŚ. My head feels foggy but⌠fuck it. Sure I want it, I want to be a bro... Mmmmm fuck yeah.
Thatâs it. Knew youâd like it. Give in.
Bro Iâm looking so fucking hot. Like such a hot bro bro. Mmmm fuuuuck it feels good.
Yeah look at that muscle pump. How smart are you feeling now? Are you a smart bro?
Fuck smarts dude. See these abs? This hair? Iâm a dumb hot bro broâŚ. Ugh fuck yeah. So fucking hot and horny.
Yes you are. Just keep calling yourself that. I can see that ass and cock swell.
Yeah bro. Jock cock. Hung as fuck. Im a horny bro⌠mmmm⌠dumb broâŚ. hung broâŚ. huhuhu such a bro.
Some might call it a gift, but most of the time I think of it as a curse. See, Iâm attractive to rather intelligent, nerdy kind of guys. The more gangly and awkward the better really. I myself am not the smartest guy around, but Iâm not a cocky dumb prick and have built myself a rather hot body with the kind of sexy hunky cocky jock look that can get me almost any guy at a club. But I only have eyes for the kind hearted timid wallflowers, stealing shy glances of me from the corner.
Like shy little Kevin, dragged out by his friends for a gay club experience, but then abandoned as he avoided the dance floor and stuck to the wall. I didnât mind keeping him company though. As is often the case, he was a terrified and incredibly confused when I started chatting with him, but I kept it chill and the conversation going. It helped that out of nerves he was quickly putting down drinks. Once he got talking I was hooked, going off about his research and gaming. His friends (and a lot of disappointed guys) looked on in shock and jealously as I managed to pull him to the dance floor and guide him to the beat. The feel of his skinny thin body against mine was amazing and it was obviously he was very into me. Didnât take much for him to agree to come home with me.
I thought this time might be different. The kind shy guy I met at clubbed was still the same, albeit a little drunk and a little more eager. He was quick to get my shirt off, marveling at the rigids of my body. He even eagerly peeled off his own along with his jeans with a dose of confidence that should have been a sign, but I was lost in the moment too, kissing his thin lips, his shallow chest. I should have noticed how his torso was a little leaner, but he was already moaning for more. When I started to fuck him, it was impossible to deny. My âcurseâ was underway.
I canât deny itâs hot to watch. Seeing a dude moan and twist in pleasure as their whole body swells and mind empties. And Kevin was certainly enjoying it. His frail frame packed on muscle with each thrust, his cock pulsing with new girth and to new heights, as his body and face reshaped itself. Those soft tender moans quickly became dumb hungry grunts, his eyes emptying of all rational thought.
Safe to say when he woke up the next day, hunky, empty headed and horny, he wasnât interesting in research and gaming anymore. Thankfully reality seems to adjust each time and all he remembered was always being a successful webcam dude and club dancer.
I tend to lose interest after that. Sure their bodies are hot, but enjoy having a conversation, hearing about a guys intellectual pursuits. So I keep looking for either a guy immune to my âcurseâ or in need of my âgiftâ.
Did you do this to me? Come on, Iâm serious, did you? I need to know. Like itâs not just my body changing, Iâve been forgetting things. Little things, things that make me me and itâs getting worse. Like I canât focus on work, Iâm getting confused about easy shit so easily and I keep on thinking about my body⌠getting bigger⌠getting to the gym. Itâs like I know all this gym stuff now. Itâs becoming all I want to do. Work out, flex, see all the muscle Iâm gettingâŚ. That and⌠fuck dude Iâm so crazy horny. Mmm canât not be. Like I can barely think straight with this meat between these thick thighs. Fuck itâs getting big. Like bro, you like these abs? These sick pecs? What till you see this cock. It like totally massive bro. We like gonna fuck? Cause otherwise I gotta like get the gym bro. Hit full body. Take some pics while Iâm at it. Huhu so what dya say? What dya wanna do with me?
What was I doing? I was just about to do something before my roommate slapped that cap on me
Err huh wasnât I about to go study? â But that canât be right. I canât go out like this. Iâm shirtless arenât I? Too embarrassingÂ
Maybe I was going to take off my glasses⌠But⌠â no thatâs a weird idea, I donât even wear glasses to begin with.
Strange but maybe I was thinking of growing taller â Ha but thatâs silly. How could I even do that? Besides I am already a good 6â˛1.
Huh⌠but my twiggy frame. Was it that I was about to bulk up? Work on those arms maybeâŚ? â But I have some good upper and forearm definition already ⌠and those veins starting to run down my bicepsâŚ
Had to be my shoulders or back then â Wrong wrong. My shoulders are alrieady wide and I have some decent traps and flarring lats
Chest? â Nah not that either. My pecs are already swelling up really nicely- not to mention my sensitive round nipples and those absâŚ
Yeah come to think of it, with this body⌠I was probably just about to become more confident, be a little cocky even. â Ughh but no way. Iâm so fucking hot, I cant get enough of myself. Who could resist? With these muscles and dreamy face, Iâm one hot smart sexy fuckerâŚ
So maybe I was about to dumb down? Like really forget all that school crap and like totally lighten up. Be some dumb ass jock muscle head. Huhuhu. â But like already so dum huhu. Hot dum bro yeah huhu
Nah like it had to just be that Iâm gettin so fuckin hot and horny and⌠yeah always so fuckin horny⌠and⌠mmmm⌠was gonna grow a thick massive cock. â Uhhh but fuUUcK⌠so horned up all the time. And my cock, yeah my fucking fuck rod, Iâm fingering that piece of meat in my shorts, its so fucking big. Like its always stiff and massive just thinking about my next fuck-Â
Fuck- thatâs it! Huhuhu yeah, Iâm so fucking dum, its my fucking cap. I gotta turn that thing around duh. Like get my hot pumped bod naked and cap on backwards, thats the way my bro likes to fuck. And my roomie, heâs already fucking waiting
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Graham was excited about moving into his new apartment. It was in a nice part of town, with good transit access to his job, plus it was pretty spacious for the price. Graham could just picture himself, his plants, maybe a boyfriend, all fitting neatly into the apartment, with its nice hardwood floors and retrofit kitchen.
So, he was quite surprised, on moving day, when the neighbour across the hall grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. âThereâs something weird about that unit,â the guy hissed in a low voice.
âWhat are you talking about?â Graham frowned. This guy looked totally ordinary in every way, in his button-up shirt and neatly parted hair. There was no way he was some crazy conspiracy nut.
âThe guys who live in there,â the guy continued, seeming frantic, âthey change. Most of them get spooked and move out in a few weeks. Iâve never seen one last longer than two months. Thatâs why the rent is so low.â
âBull.â Graham tugged himself free. âWhat is this, some kind of weird building hazing or something? What a way to greet a neighbour.â
As he marched away to unlock the door for the movers, Graham felt his new neighbourâs eyes on his back.
Even though he did his best to put the strange conversation out of his mind, Graham kept thinking about the guyâs words as he unpacked for the rest of the day. He had seemed way too sincere for a prank.
At one point, one of the movers gave a sudden shudder and dropped a box full of Grahamâs work shirts and coat hangers. âSorry,â he muttered, blinking away the wild look in his eyes as his coworkers stared, âthere was a...smell.â Graham noticed that he was one of the first to leave the apartment to go wait in the moving van once everything was carried in.
Left alone after the movers set up the basicsâbed, couch, dining table, desk, TV standâGraham stood in the kitchen, trying to recapture his excitement for the new apartment. He couldnât help feeling like the sunlight through the big windows of the living room looked a little watery, like it couldnât fully enter the space. Even though it was nice and warm inside the apartment, Graham felt strangely clammy, and he couldnât settle down.
In an attempt to use the restless energy, Graham paced to the bedroom and cut open his boxes of work clothes. He had a pretty ordinary cubicle job, so there was a certain standard of professionalism to meet, but Graham also loved business clothes. Getting dressed for work, for Graham, was like putting on a professional person, like he could pretend to be someone else for 8 hours a day. He had dozens of slim-fit button-ups for his skinny body, perfectly chosen to match his pale skin. Matching sets of slacks and blazers quickly filled the closet.
The action was soothing, and pretty soon Graham was unpacking his loafers. Heâd cleaned them before putting them in the box, but he decided to give them a quick polish before putting them on the shoe rack. As he went to get a rag, Graham suddenly thought, I bet those wonât fit for long.
He stopped, halfway to the kitchen. The thought had been so out of character and strange. But, it sounded like his internal voice. It was a weird feeling.
Donât worry about it.
Graham shook his head and resolved not to worry about it, grabbing the rag and putting his shoes away.
That night, Graham had trouble getting to sleep. It was like he couldnât get warm, even under all the covers. He tossed and turned until, finally, he drifted off.
It was still dark when his eyes opened. Somewhere around 4 AM. Feeling strangely detached from himself, Graham swung out of bed and padded to the bathroom.
Looking into the mirror in the darkness, Graham found himself stripping out of his silk pyjamas to see his own skinny, pale body. His lips moved, and Graham heard himself mumble, âWeâve got a lot of work to do.â
As if puppeted by someone else, Grahamâs body moved through a series of bodybuilding poses. âThereâs potential, though,â he heard himself mumble into the darkness.
He lifted up his arm and stuck his nose into his armpit, frowning. âDonât worry, dude, youâre in good hands,â Grahamâs voice told him. âIâll go slow so you donât get spooked.â Then he chuckled to himself. âHeh, spooked.â
The morning sun had Graham blinking awake. Heâd had a strange dream, talking to himself in the bathroom. But as he pushed aside the covers, Graham frowned. He was naked, even though he always slept in pyjamas.
The pyjamas were on the bathroom floor, tossed carelessly. Well, Graham thought, maybe heâd overheatedâŚwhile on the toilet.
Anyway, heâd been too tired to take a shower last night, but he definitely needed one before work today. Graham stepped into the shower and turned the tap, but was disappointed to hear a gurgling somewhere in the pipes. Only a few drops came out.
One more day wonât hurt.
âOne more day wonât hurt,â Graham said, vocalising what his inner voice had said. He would email the building manager and get the shower fixed today. In the meantime, he applied a few extra layers of deodorant and fixed his hair as best as he could.
Still, Graham was self-conscious all day. He dreaded any coworker getting close enough to smell him or notice that his skin was a little greasy. By lunch break, he had rehearsed in his head a whole speech about walking to work to explain why he was so gross. It was a relief when the clock hit 5 PM and no one commented.
The repair man was standing outside Grahamâs apartment when he got home, and he let them in. Apparently, there was nothing obviously wrong with the shower. It even ran on the repair manâs first try at turning the tap. Still, the man recommended that Graham put aside some tap water in case it kept acting up. At least he could take a sponge bath.
No problem, itâs not an urgent fix.
âNo problem, itâs not an urgent fix.â Graham wasnât sure why heâd said that. It was like someone else had spoken through his lips. It was kind of urgent to have regular showers. But he shook hands with the repair man and smiled as he saw him out. If the shower was just randomly acting up, heâd learn to adapt to it.
The guy across the hall looked out his door while Graham stood there, thinking through the strange thought heâd had. âYou okay?â he asked. âNothingâŚweird happening in there?â
Nothing to worry about.
âNothing to worry about.â Graham smiled at his neighbour. Yeah, he was feeling pretty relaxed. With his move done, he really did have nothing to worry about. He was just jittery about his new place. âGraham, by the way.â
âLeo,â said the neighbour, still looking rather nervous. âYou sure? Usually, guys go screaming down the hall their first night, yelling about feet and nightmares, like they're being haunted.â
Not this time.
âNot this time.â Maybe Leo really was some kind of conspiracy theorist. Graham still had more unpacking to do. âNice to meet you.â He closed the door.
First things first, though, Graham wanted to finally get his first shower in his new place. He went and turned the tap.
Nothing.
Graham took a deep breath to calm himself down and went to fill a pot with water from the kitchen sink.
Hahahahaha. Laughter filled his mind. Graham froze in the middle of the kitchen. No matter what, his mental voice laughing at him couldnât be a good sign, right?
The only thing to do with a problem is laugh.
That logic seemed sound. It wasnât the way Graham usually dealt with problems, though. He was the kind of guy who tended to panic at the slightest opportunity.
He must be maturing.
Chuckling a bit to himself, Graham went to get his basin of water for a sponge bath.
The sponge baths really werenât so bad, and by the time the shower started working randomly a few days later, Graham couldnât find any of his soap or shampoo. He had a vague memory of dreaming that heâd thrown them out, but that was ridiculous. Every time he thought about getting more bathing supplies, heâd have the thought that it was just a lot of effort. He was doing fine with water alone, why complicate it?
One night a week or so after his move, Graham found himself staring at his ceiling late in the night. He must be dreaming again. He felt his lips move. âI think Iâm gonna try moving in for real, just a bit. Donât mind me.â
Suddenly, Grahamâs feet went ice cold, and a strange, wet, slippery sensation slid into his feet. They feltâŚtight, like they were overfull somehow.
âYeah, youâre gonna be a tight fit. Donât worry, Iâll work you in slowly,â said Grahamâs mouth.
Still with that strange, distant sensation, as if he wasnât in control of his body, Graham sat up in bed and swung his feet to the floor. He watched as his toes wriggled and something shifted under the skin. They did look a little bloated. Over several minutes, Graham watched like a passenger while his feet flexed back and forth, looking a little larger with each twist of the arch and ankle. Dark hair began to sprout on his growing toes.
At last, they seemed to stabilise, and Grahamâs body lifted his right foot up. A faint, but distinctive, aroma rose from the massive sole. âMmm, smells like being alive,â said Grahamâs mouth with a smirk.
The next morning, Graham laid in bed for a long time. Heâd never been a foot guy, so this dream was especially strange. He realised, thinking back on it, that his cock had, in fact, been hard the entire time. There was even a stain in his Calvinsâsomehow, every night heâd worn pyjamas to bed heâd tossed them off while dreamingâlike heâd had a wet dream.
When he got out of bed, he wondered why his feet looked oddly tan against the skin of his legs. And, later, why they felt strangely snug in his loafers. They pinched where they had felt perfectly comfortable before.
When he got home, it was a relief to tear his shoes off, but Graham wrinkled his nose at the sharp aroma emanating from his sweaty socks. That was it, he resolved, he needed to stop procrastinating and wash himself properly again.
But it is sort of hot.
Graham paused as he was about to start making a shopping list. If he really thought about it, the scent was kind of hot. No one had mentioned that Graham wasnât soaping up his body or deodorizing anymore. The smell from his feet hadnât bothered anyone. It was like it was his own little dirty secret. Like another role he could play underneath his work role.
And the smell really was sort of attractive.
âNew shoesâ went on the shopping list.
Some sneakers, too. To get really smelly.
Right, Graham didnât want to mess up any work shoes as he experimented with this new interest of his. âSneakers.â
It was like his dream had opened a floodgate. Every night, Graham dreamed of his feet growing erotically, and each day they were just a bit larger, with just a bit more stink built up on them. In his dreams, Graham talked to himself, talking about getting gym equipment, a bunch of new clothes, even about how boring Graham found his job.
More and more, Graham found himself agreeing with his dreaming self. One evening, he put a bunch of gym equipment into his Amazon cart, then turned off his computer. Gym stuff cost a lot of money, he needed to be sure he wanted to buy it. But that night, he dreamed about sitting at his computer to finalise the order, and the equipment arrived a few days later. At that point, it seemed like a waste to return it, so Graham set it up in the spare room, where he had originally planned to have a library.
Books are boring.
Graham had decided books were boring.
Any time he was at home now, Graham kept finding himself thinking, âI should do a few reps.â The results were unbelievable, with muscles thickening all over his body in what seemed like just a few days. It wasnât long before Graham was outgrowing all of his clothes, quickly wearing out three new pairs of jeans in as many weeks.
Sweats are better anyway.
Grahamâs new fitness obsession extended into his dreams, too. The cold, slippery sensation still enveloped his feet every night, but it also covered most of his body now. In his dreams, Graham would feel himself get out of bed and strut to the bathroom to pose and flex as his muscles grew larger and larger, until they bulged off his frame.
Once his muscles had grown thick and tanned dark, Grahamâs dreams went in a few different directions. Often, he would watch in the mirror as he sniffed his armpits or feet, jacking the thick, musky foreign cock that had grown in place of his average, cut dick. Sometimes, Graham would hear himself say, âNah, needs some more,â after sniffing himself. Then, he would go to his home gym and pump out reps until he was coated in sweat.
He always woke up aching and coated in stale sweat after those dreams, with a pungent scent emanating from his armpits and shockingly larger feet.
Every few nights, Graham had a dream where he would run his thick, callused hands over his neck and face, subtly pinching and compressing his face until a handsome stranger looked back at him in the mirror. âThere, thatâs the real me,â he would say to himself in a deep, smokey voice.
After those dreams, Graham was always surprised to see his normal face in the mirror. And yet, there would be a familiar sharpness to his jaw, or the set of his dark eyebrows, that reminded him of the face in his dreams.
The world outside his apartment felt increasingly strange. It was like a part of his internal voice was missing. He had trouble understanding his own thoughts, now. It was like he was a jumble of two different people. Had he really used to spend most of his free time reading library books? Was he really the kind of guy who didnât put himself up for a bonus at the end of the year?
The apartment was safe and secure. It was like Grahamâs mind was wrapped in calm and good sense as soon as he walked in. His mind spoke louder, which let him make better decisions, like the time that he wore sweats and T-shirt to work. It had made perfect sense when he walked out the door, but then he had stumbled over his words when he tried to explain to his boss why he was dressed appropriately for work.
Long story short, Graham was arriving home early today. He was just unlocking his door when Leo came barrelling up the stairs in running gear. He stopped when he spotted Graham, just stepping over the threshold and into the wonderful calm of his apartment.
âWho areâGraham?â Leo stared at him. âIs that really you?â
Graham looked down at himself, then back over at Leo. âUh, yeah?â
âNo way. Youâre soâŚmuscular and tan. I barely recognise your face.â
âYeah, I had a bit of a growth spurt.â Graham flexed a bicep with a grin.
âA growth spurt powered by anabolics and a talented plastic surgeon, sure,â Leo was frowning at him.
Graham was kind of offended by his rude neighbour. Heâd put a lot of hard work into this body!
Yeah, I have. Get him in the apartment.
âLook,â Graham sighed, the words spilling from his lips like in his dreams, âIâve had a bad day. Just come inside if you want to talk.â
Leo seemed to hesitate, just for an instant. âBut thatâs theââ
âEither get inside, or get out of my face.â Grahamâs voice sounded a bit gruff to his ears, beyond just the depth that it had gained over the months heâd lived here. It was like it was another manâs voice.
Leo shook himself. âOkay.â He steeled himself and followed Graham over the threshold.
Perfect.
âWhew, itâs ripe in here, man,â Leo observed. âDo you ever shower?â
âJust with cold water.â Graham kicked out of his sneakers, freeing his massive, socked feet and stretching them out. More and more, he felt separate from his body, as if he was watching it move. Still, it hadnât done anything he wouldnât have done, he thought. He was just playing another role.
âWell, clearly, itâs notâŚenoughâŚâ Graham watched, his mouth held in a strange smile, as Leo seemed to lose his train of thought. The manâs nostrils flared, and he swayed slightly.
âYeah, not so mighty and judgmental anymore,â said Grahamâs voice. âYouâve forced me to move up my schedule a bit, but itâs not a problem.â
Leo licked his lips before answering. âSorry, sir,â he said thickly.
âYouâre the guy whoâs been helping my potential bodies escape, arenât you?â
âI warn them about this apartmentâŚI keep listings for new places they can goâŚâ Leoâs eyes started to clear, and he shook his head. âNo, wait, what the fuckââ
In a flash, Graham leapt into action. He didnât know how he got one of his sneakers in his hand, but he grabbed Leo in a headlock and shoved his face into the putrid interior. âNuh-uh-uh, no escapes or exorcisms this time,â Grahamâs voice whispered, as Leo thrashed in his strong arms. âThe more you fight, the more you fall. Isnât it hot? My sexy, sweaty new body all around you, and the smell and taste of my foot musk all over your face?â
As Graham spoke, Leoâs struggles weakened. Graham watched with amusement as they both slumped to the floor, a rock-hard boner growing in Leoâs running shorts.
Finally, Grahamâs grip on the sneaker loosened, even as Leo reached up to hold it himself. âLook, this is all just a misunderstanding,â Grahamâs said soothingly. âYouâve thought I was a sexy beast since I moved in, right? You loved my big, musky muscles and my foot stink. Thatâs why you made up that story about a haunted apartment.â
Leoâs eyes seemed to be rolling uncontrollably in his head, but he nodded.
âNow Iâve finally noticed you and invited you inside. You just couldnât help yourself, you foot slut. You were gonna tackle me before I gave you that shoe to lick.â
Leo nodded fervently, moaning. A wet spot was forming at his crotch.
âNow weâre gonna go to the bedroom and Iâm gonna shove my cheesy uncut cock in that virgin hole of yours, okay bro?â
âFuck,â Leo gasped, muffled through the shoe. âFuck yes, Graham.â
âNah, man,â said Grahamâs voice, picking Leo up like he was a doll, âIâd rather you call me Grey.â
As Greyâs thick cock entered Leo, Graham found himself watching as if from outside himself. He could see his own handsome, angular face as he fucked Leo. He could see Greyâs massive, musky feet shift as he gained a better angle to make Leo squeal. He could even watch the dribbles of sweat run over his thick ass as his voice gave short, sharp pants.
âFuck yeah,â Grey said to himself in a harsh voice, picking up the pace.
âThis is my body.â
âThis is my fucking musk temple.â
âMade it all by my-fucking-self.â
âFeels fucking good to be alive.â
As Grey buried his thick, musky cock deep in Leo, shaking through his orgasm, Graham found himself back inside his body. Once again, he watched like a passenger as Grey licked his load out of Leoâs asshole, then sent his happy new foot slut on his way with a spare sneaker and instructions to stop using soap and add Grey's contact info to his bank account.
Eventually, Grey lounged on the couch, naked, idly stroking his slimy, still-lubed cock and scrolling through Grindr. âWhat do you think, Graham?â he said out loud. âSince it's my first night able to leave the apartment, I should go crash some boysâ b-ball game and make some more foot slaves, right?â
Graham couldnât help but agree. He was just the voice in Greyâs head, after all.
This story is a slightly belated holiday gift for @idesofrevolution! Happy holidays, and here's to a hot and sexy new year ;)
"Thinking....hard...." You whined, your head felt so heavy and every time you moved your head it was as if your brain was sloshing around inside. Your thoughts felt so heavy, like jello.
"I'm sure it is cutie." The guy you had met at the bar and invited back to your place smirked, sitting on the couch. You could still see his cock dripping cum onto the floor. You couldn't look away from it no matter how hard you tried.
"Why hard....." You whined. Your eyes glued to a drop of cum as it pooled on the tip. You stared at it, watching as it caught the light, curling around the edge. It bubbled up swelling before falling to the floor. As it fell your head dropped down, eyes following it as it splashed into a puddle on the floor. Your jaw went slack, drool dripping into it's own puddle at your feet. Your hips shook as you came trembling, not reacting to the sensations.
"That's cause you have cum for brains." He smirked and gave his dick a single, long stroke. Cum flowed from the tip dropping down into the puddle.
"Cum brains...." You giggled falling further onto the floor. The thoughts in your head couldn't focus on anything but the word cum. It felt so good in your head. Like your whole head was full of white sticky cum. Sloshing around. Swirling up any other thoughts and replacing them with cum.
"That's right. Each time you see my cum drip onto the floor you find that your thoughts go with it. Dropping into a pool full of nice sticky cum. Turning you into a nice, sticky, cummy mess."
You watched a large bead build up. You panted, eyes fixed intently on it. You could feel all of your thoughts pooling up in your head, it felt so heavy, so full. You watched the drop starts to slip off of the head of his cock, hanging low, dangling by a thread. Your thoughts ready to snap out of your head as soon as it broke. You couldn't fight the urge as your hips began to tremble.
The strand snapped, the drop falling. You could see yourself in it as it fell, all of your thoughts drifting out of your empty head. Your eyelids hung low, snapping closed as it hit the puddle. You fell to the ground, your body trembling as you came shaking. Your mind broke, a fresh batch of cum pouring into it pushing everything else away, all thoughts, all feelings. Just cum. That was all there was in your head. Cum for brains.
Hope you all enjoyed that. There won't be a poll for this week as I'm super slammed next week, but don't worry, I'm gonna type up a second cum brained prompt for you all for then. Next week I'll slap up another poll though. Thanks as always for reading!
Tim was walking to get his weekly groceries when he stumbled upon a strange store in his local strip mall. It was a small, dark store that he had never seen before, with a sign that simply read Curiosities in bold letters. Intrigued, he decided to stop by before he got to the supermarket to step inside and take a look around.
Tim couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as he walked through the dimly lit aisles. The store was filled with oddities and peculiar items, from strange trinkets to bizarre gadgets. But one item caught his eye in particular - a small device that looked like almost like a butt-plug. Intrigued, Tim picked up the device and examined it closely. It seemed to be well-made, with a sleek design and a label that simply said Grow. The packaging boasted advanced technology that promised to stimulate, all you had to do was insert to grow. Being a single guy, he didnât mind the idea of having some extra help getting off, rather than only using his hand. After some hesitation, he decided to purchase the device and take it home.
Once he arrived home, Tim immediately went to the bathroom to try out the device. He locked the door behind him and turned on the device, feeling a slight vibration in his hand. Pulling down his pants, he reached behind him and brought the device to his butt, and the vibrations grew stronger and more intense. He wasn't sure what to expect, but the sensation was oddly satisfying.Â
However, the vibrations suddenly intensified and caught Tim off guard. He stumbled and slipped, falling forward onto the stool in the bathroom, and the device penetrated him. He tried to reach for it to pull it out and turn off the device, but it seemed to have entered him so deeply that he couldnât reach it. Tim's body started to shake uncontrollably. He was terrified and tried to calm himself down, but it was too late. His mind was foggy with pleasure: the device had taken over, and Tim could feel his old self slipping away.
As the vibrations continued to course through his body, Tim's muscles began to explode with strength and mass with every shake. His biceps swelled with bulging veins, and his forearms thickened as if he had been lifting weights for years. His chest expanded, and his pecs grew into a solid mass that jutted out from his chest like armor, ripping apart his shirt as it fell to tatters beside him.
Tim felt a strange sensation in his abdomen. It was like a fire burning deep within his core, and he could feel his abs contracting and expanding with each pulse. He looked down and saw his stomach rippling and bulging, as if something were moving just beneath the surface. With each passing moment, his abs grew thicker and more defined. They bulged out from his stomach like a six-pack of cobblestones, and he could see each muscle fiber twitching and contracting beneath his skin.
Tim could feel his thighs thickening, and his calves grew into sculpted pillars of muscle. His shoulders broadened, and his traps grew into a massive hump that seemed to swallow up his neck. He could feel his back arching, and his spine seemed to stretch as if his body was struggling to contain all the new muscles.
As Tim's body continued to vibrate with increasing intensity, he realized that his shoes were getting tighter and tighter until they could no longer contain his rapidly expanding feet, ripping apart beneath him. As his feet continued to grow, he began to kick and flail across the tiled floor, trying to get a foothold, but he couldn't find any traction. His feet were now too big, too sweaty, and too slippery to get a grip on the smooth surface. They were massive, almost cartoonishly large. His toes curled and flexed uncontrollably, and he could feel the sweat pouring off his feet, creating a puddle on the floor beneath him. The smell was overpowering - a pungent, musky odor that filled the bathroom and made Tim gag. It was a mix of sweat, dirt, and something else, something primal and animalistic.Â
As the transformation continued, Tim could feel a strange itch all over his body. He looked down and was shocked to see thick tufts of hair sprouting from his skin. It started on his chest and back, but soon hair was growing everywhere, even on his arms and legs. He felt his face changing, and his once-smooth skin was now rough and covered in thick hair.
Tim's mouth hung open as he struggled to breathe. His heart was pounding, and his breathing became labored as his body underwent a complete physical transformation. The vibrations shook his body so violently that he could barely stand, and his vision became blurry as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Finally, the vibrations began to subside, and Tim was left standing in the bathroom, his body trembling and covered in sweat. He looked in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw:
He was fucking gorgeous. His lips plump and beautiful, and a smolder to die for. His facial hair was perfectly trimmed and his eyes were soft and inviting. His face was unbelievable... but his body..?!
He couldn't believe the sheer size and mass of his new muscular body, and he couldn't help but admire the way his pecs bulged and his biceps swelled. He flexed his arms and watched as the muscles rippled beneath his skin. He turned to the side and admired the way his abs rippled and bulged with each movement. It was like he was looking at a completely different person, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the new body he had been given.
But suddenly, a massive headache hit him like a ton of bricks. It was like a sledgehammer had slammed into his skull, and with each pulse, he felt his mind growing duller and more sluggish. His thoughts became slow and confused, and he couldn't concentrate on anything except the throbbing pain in his head.
As the headache intensified, Tim's mind grew more and more muddled, and he could feel his intelligence slipping away. His vocabulary became limited to basic words, and he struggled to put together even the simplest of sentences. All he could do was flex his massive muscles and drool uncontrollably. He looked back in the mirror and realized he had become a completely different person. The intelligent, thoughtful Tim was gone, replaced by a hulking, drooling man with a body that defied belief. He tried to focus and think of a way to reverse the transformation, but his mind was too dull and confused to devise a plan.
All Tim could do was stand there, flexing his muscles and drooling uncontrollably. The device had given him the body of a god, but it had also taken away his intelligence and sense of self. He was a dumb, mindless hunk of muscle and just another piece of eye candy for some lucky man to have the pleasure of calling his trophy husband.
DKGAM continues with Myron's roommate, Ty. As Myron shares his theory, Ty reflects on the mishaps and frustrations of their own mysterious dick growth, as well as its unexpected benefits. Notably, their newfound enthusiasm for autofellatio.
1 | 2 (Previous) | 4 (Next)
âWhat do you mean theyâre growing around you?â I asked Myron, driving us home after my shift finally ended.
âLike, ya knowâŚbigger,â he said from the passenger seat, splaying his hands for emphasis.
âHmm, I mean your bootyâs been looking pretty nice lately,â I laughed. âYou sure the boys just arenât a little too excited?â
âNo, I mean like, youâve noticed yours is much bigger than it was a year ago when we moved in, right?â
âYeah, definitely, but that was like a late growth spurt or something. It happens.â
âWhen does it happen? Youâre 28.â
âOkay, fair.â
âAnd Miguelâs is much bigger than it was six months ago when I first started working in his office.â
Of course I had noticed the prominent bulge in Miguelâs khakis, but Myron sounded like he had some firsthand details of his bossâs supposed growth. I made a mental note to squeeze that tea out of him later.
âSix months?â I asked, my interest piqued and the gears beginning to turn in my head. âThen if youâre right, he might be in for some fun times pretty soon,â I added with a chuckle.
â
Several months previous, on a clear winter morning, I was trying something new. Myron was starting his new job with his studly lâil office mate, which was changing the dynamic in the house somewhat, for the better I hoped.
Weâd moved in together last summer having barely known each otherâwe were both in dire straits trying to find a new place and a mutual friend connected usâand had settled in to a surprisingly chill dynamic. Neither of us was the 9 to 5 careerist type, leading us both to string together personal projects, freelancing, and whatever seasonal or temporary gigs we needed to get the rent paid. Consequently, we had domestic routines that were always shifting, sometimes work-from-home, sometimes office gigs, sometimes third shift, so this recent change was nothing new. We had fallen into a routine of constantly adjusting to each otherâs routines, which may have only worked because we really did get along as friends. Not that we had much choice, practically living on top of each other in what used to be the cozy attic of an early 20th century mansion turned into affordable (read: poorly maintained) apartments. At the time, I was working as a ghost writer while bartending on the side, so my mornings were pretty open and I let Myron have the run of the place bopping around getting ready for work while I stayed snug under a generous layering of blankets, also kept warm by the heat emanating from the all too familiar weight laying against me.
Most people, I imagine, might be freaked out to wake up to chest high morning wood insistently pulsing against the fabric of the sheets and the hair of my torso in anticipation. But I guess I had had time to adjust to this mysterious growth spurt that had started the previous summer and didnât seem to be stopping. I let an exploratory hand dance along my shaft, sending a shiver of pleasure down to my toes, then lifted my dick slowly, feeling the weight of it, and let it fall against my chest with a wet thwack into a small pool of precum that was already forming. Not wanting to ruin a third set of sheets this week, I pulled myself reluctantly out from under the covers and grabbed an old towel from the hamper, my hardening cock bobbing in the cool morning air as I got set up and got to work, dimly registering the sound of Myron leaving.
The week before, I had been camming (another side gig, with some play mixed in) and received an interesting message. With one hand running up and down my long dick and the other pushing anal beads into my hole (the scene carefully positioned for the camera), I almost missed the question that popped up in the dialogue box: Can you suck it?
Truth is, I had never been one for blow jobs. Iâve never liked the feeling of someone putting their mouth to south, so to speak. Iâm usually somewhere on the ace spectrum. Depending on the person, I can take or leave sex, but I certainly know how to take care of myself with enthusiasm. So I hadnât considered the possibility of sucking my own dick, or even if it would be enjoyable.Â
 Of course I had seen videos online of guys successfully getting their lips around their own cock headsâat least one freak of nature making it some way down the shaftâbut I never imagined myself at that level of talent or expertise. I had just assumed it was some magical combination of being super flexible and super hung. But that comment stuck in my brain. And apparently one of my handful of horny digital followers thought I had the latter if not the former.Â
So I took the plunge. As I tilted my face down, ungracefully straining my neck, my lips met the salty stickiness of my head, already excitedly leaking. I lapped up my own precum as I traced the curvature, still sleepily nuzzling around my slit until I finally went all in, getting my lips just past my glans and sucking carefully on my own member.Â
I was immediately hooked, reveling at first in the novelty of sucking my own dick, but slowly falling into deep pleasure. I had never been all that great at cock sucking, but this was lovely. I was still getting used to a dick was constantly larger than I remembered it being, but I managed to get as much of myself into my own mouth as I could before hitting the limits of my own flexibility.Â
Periodically, I would lift my mouth away, leaving viscous trails of spit and pre, and marvel at the sight of it. As if the dick I remembered from several months ago, that I had assumed was just my standard issue member, had somehow been scaled up. As I slipped the head back past my lips, I let out a heavy moan as I almost gagged on the gush of precum that erupted. I continued with this routine until I felt an orgasm imminent, sending tremors through my body as I worked diligently, my hands playing up and down my shaft. Finally, that all too familiar pulse erupted from deep inside, traveling up my shaft and sending ropes of jizz into my mouth, which began covering my face as I pulled my cock head back into the cool morning air.
Ok, I thought. I get the hype.
â
I guess in the weeks and months previous I had taken note of the fact that my dick had been hanging lower and lower, but I hadnât noticed until that fateful morning. Those first six months with Myron had been a whirlwind of re-adjusting to roommate life as well as navigating our own wacky schedules, habits, and routines. After a few months, more and more of it filled my hand every time I jerked off, which I chalked up to being inexplicably, increasingly horny. My subscribers clocked the changes well before I did, but I had been used to a steady stream of messages and comments heavily influenced by their lustful gaze and my own use of flattering angles. And if they wanted to get caught up in the idea of some fantastical growth spurt, I figured let âem. I was there for the fantasy anyways.Â
My new talent quickly became my new obsession, and after I debuted it on cam, I got a deluge of new subscribers, tips, and engagement. And with that, the small frustration of facing discourse about how my dick simply couldnât be real, along with all manner of carefully dissected screenshots alleging everything from silicone to photoshop. As one person said, Their dick was already big, they donât need to do this fake shit. But the money was good and I figured I was already selling a fantasy one way or another. And if people believed it was fake, that meant less attention from people wanting an explanation that I couldnât really provide, or god forbid, wanting to meet irl. Besides, I didnât think of it as more than a party trick, albeit one that ended with very mind blowing, and very real, orgasms covering my face with gobs of jizz. And the crowd, per usual, would go wild.
Thankfully, the growth slowed down around this time, and the claims of dick deception slowed down with them. And with Myron out of the house at his new 9 to 5, I could really take my time becoming intimately acquainted with what I was packing. As I settled into this new routine, and as late spring rolled around, I wore less and less around the apartment, especially when Myron was at work. Not only had my dick grown long enough to tap politely at my chin, but it was getting difficult to last more than several hours without draining the beast.
One day, with nothing better to do until the shift at my new kitchen gig, I fiddled with the recipe for my homemade pot brownies, underestimated how strong they are, and ended up spending the afternoon splayed on the couch, dozing in a sunbeam. I was falling in and out of the weirdest dream about some guy that was somehow magically inflating dudesâ butts through horny chaos magic, culminating in some sort of showdown in the forest. I had already gotten myself off three times that day, so I guessed my constantly aroused mind was getting creative. And, plot twist, I awoke to see Myronâs cute buns turning to lock the front door as he got home from work. I had to meet this new boss who was overhauling his wardrobe, his ass looked great these days.
âYouâre not gonna believe what happened last night,â he said. âI was at this show with Miguel and, I, umâŚâ
He trailed off, intently staring, and then intently not staring, at the general area of my crotch, currently featuring a thin pair of tye dye sweat shorts for the warmer months. I didnât think Myron had thought all that much about my recent gains downstairs, he always seemed not to notice, or at least not to notice for too long. As he set his things down, he tried to stammer out something about this party they had hit up the night before, unsuccessfully trying to string phrases together. I decided to give him a chance to reset with a âYouâre home early! They finally let you go?â
He switched gears and glanced at me quizzically, responding âItâs 5:45, if anything my bus was late.â
âAh. Fuck,â I groaned, realizing that the warm afternoon sun streaming through our living room windows had adjusted to the lengthier day with summer approaching. I, however, had not, and was already late for work. What was left of my high began quickly wearing off as I sprung from the couch, my semi soft monster moving with its own inertia and threatening to flop out of my shortsâand likely short circuit Myronâs already weary brain.
I threw my backpack together, grabbed some shoes, and headed to the door. I figured I could show up looking messy and change into the backup uniform I kept in my locker.    Â
âLook, I need to head to work, fill me in on the rave later, okay?â I said, shooting him a lazy smile as I headed out the door. âAnd invite me next time!âÂ
As I was hustling down stairs and half jogging down the sidewalk to my car, I got the same looks from passerby as the one from Myron; entranced, but desperately trying not to be. As I strolled up to my subcompact hatchbackâwhat I would call retro, distinguished even, but most would call oldâI caught myself in the driver side window reflection. Specifically, I eyed a bulge that made even me gasp. Ok well that explains some things, I thought, mentally hitting myself for inadvertently showing a bunch of unsuspecting pedestrians much more than Iâd intended.
There werenât many onlookers as I slipped into the kitchen through the backâmy co-workers were busy and itâs not like they werenât already aware I was packing something major. Thankfully, I did have a pair of black work slacks waiting for me in my locker, and while my bulge was less visible, they were definitely more constricting. Around this time, I noticed that my gait had been changing slightly as more and more of my cock took up any given pant leg, but the last time I had worn these was several inches ago and they hadnât had time to adjust, making my stiffened posture painfully obvious.
â
I wore an apron at that job that covered just enough of my lap to mask the fact that I was sporting an unmistakably, unexplainable, ungodly dong. But as spring turned to summer, more and more of it began to show from out the bottom, especially when increasingly studly and sweaty hikers wandered in with less and less layers. When I finally saw Myronâs boss, Miguel, sitting with him across the bar, I almost sported a boner that threatened to wrap halfway around my hip.
When things calmed downâin the bar and in my pantsâI decided to introduce myself with the gift of fries, and some made up story about a customer who didnât pick up. As I approached, I felt some weird magnetic energy, like I was being drawn to Miguel. Specifically, like my dick wanted to point due north to his own unmistakable bulge. Based on how uncomfortable it was getting to walk in those pants, I guessed that my cock was responding accordingly. At this point, I was used to the blatant stares of people who thought they were being subtle, but Miguel was laser focused on my crotch with a look that implied he was trying to piece together a deeper story.
I donât know what came over me, other than the fact that he was cute and I enjoyed messing with my roommate, but I decided I might as well show off the goods, giving Miguel an indulgent view of my trouser snake from multiple angles. As I walked away, I felt that same tug from behind, as if I could feel his eyes drilling into me.
Ever the gentleman, Miguel had insisted on hanging with Myron until I finally got off my shift, not that I was complaining. As we parted ways, I took my own indulgent look at his perky backside in those tight khakis, that weird feeling of connection slowly fading as I jumped into the car with Myron. We sat in silence for a little while, the space between us filled with the sound of my after work chillout synthwave playlist.Â
âSo,â he said. âI have a theory.â
âIs it about this hot boss youâve been keeping from me?â I asked.
âNo, itâs, Miguel? NoâŚso I thinkââ
âBecause frankly Iâm disappointed youâve kept him hidden for this long,â I interjected.
âDicks keep growing around me,â finished Myron. âI think.â
I sat in silence for a few beats, before laughing at the absurdity. âWhat?â
And then he laid out his whole theory as we drove toward home. With previous people in his life and their unexplainably large members, wrapping up with Miguel and I.
âThatâs a hot story,â I said. âComplete nonsense, but hot.â
âYou never suspected something was off, like you never saw a doctor about it?â he asked.
âNo, it works fine,â I said. âWorks better even. Itâs just really, really big.â I adjusted in my seat slightly from becoming reminded of the size of my appendage, not to mention all this reminiscing about my dick was getting me worked up. Sucking myself off after long kitchen shifts was an otherworldly experience, and I was looking forward to getting home. Actually, I was getting more and more worked up as the conversation continued. All this talk of expanding dicks and the past year of growth was activating a ticking time bomb that was creeping down my pant leg.
âWhatâs wrong?â asked Myron, looking worried as I could no longer hide the fact that I was visibly distressed.
âWell,â I said, gesturing at the lengthening bulge, my breathing becoming heavy. âOnce it gets going, it reallyââ
âGets going,â said Myron. âYeah, Iâm starting to pick up on that. Can I do anything?â
âNo, itâs fine, weâre almost hoâaugghhhh.â My dick surged against the fabric of my slacks, painfully constricted against the confines of material that for some reason was not designed for a raging monster cock. It felt white hot against my leg, furious at the lack of attention, and urgently trying to garner some relief.
âThat doesnât sound fine,â replied Myron, worry entering his voice.
âNoâŚreallyâŚhappens all the time,â I squeaked out, my mouth salivating at the thought of my massive member finding its rightful place between my lips. My belly followed suit with a rumble of hunger, echoing the yearning I could feel deep in my throat. âI justâŚâ I tried to adjust myself into a more comfortable position but only succeeded in sending a jolt of pleasure through my body that was so intense I almost lost control of the vehicle. Myron grabbed the wheel and began dutifully steering as I took deep, calming breaths.
âIs this normal?â he asked.
âWell ânormalâ is relative,â I quipped with a wry smile, one of many truisms I liked to throw out to his annoyance. âBut this isâŚa little more urgent than I expected.â
âOk, well, weâre almost home, just focus.â
âOk,â I breathed. âFocusing.âÂ
I kept my eyes on the road, trying to let myself fall into the smooth electronic rhythms coming out of my speakers. I thought about ice cold showers and used car commercials and every rude customer from the past week. But definitely not about Miguelâs perfect bubble butt. Or my roommateâs pillowy buns. Or my roommateâs pillowy buns meeting whatever it was Miguel was seriously packing down there. Or how even that would pale in comparison to the pipe that was sending waves of agonizing pleasure up my spine as I felt every square centimeter of contact squished between the fabric of my slacks and my own sweaty leg. A sensation being made all the worse by the steady drip of precum that was threatening to start gushing as my taint began to contract and pulse with anticipation. I was swimming up to my eyeballs with orgasmic need, struggling to coherently process the cacophony of sensations and stimuli, and managing only a soft âOof.â
âOof?â asked Myron. âWhatâs oof mean?â
âI, um, donât think weâre going to make it,â I muttered through clenched teeth. With my hands at 10 and 2âand Myronâs at 4âI heard the unmistakable sound of what I didnât think was possible outside of my subscribersâand my ownâweird fantasies. With a series of steady, sharp rips, the interior seam of my pant leg finally gave up in the face of the log extending from my groin. My dick, finally free, thumped against the steering wheel then rose with surprising grace directly to my eager, waiting lips. The growth had thankfully slowed in recent months, but as I tasted and felt my own hot, sticky, mushroom head before seeing it rise into my field of view, I came to a realization somehow more excitingâand upsettingâthan the one on that fateful morning six months previous. If things were to continue on their current trajectory, my fully hard cock may soon reach past my mouth entirely. I was terrified by the prospect of losing easy access to my schlong for the most comical of reasons, while also titillated by the prospect of learning anew the meaning of too big. I realized that I really didnât know how long this mysterious growth would last, and even worse, if it would ever end. I decided I might as well enjoy it before things became truly unwieldy. And besides, there was only one way to get this thing back down.
âDo you mind if IâŚ?â I asked.Â
Myron, my passenger princess, hand still gingerly holding the wheel, was rendered speechless by the scene before him. I let him finish the question in his head.
âUm, well, go ahead,â he stuttered.
With orgasmic relief flooding through every cell of my tense body, I gave in, swallowing as much as I could into my waiting throat.
Itâs a miracle I managed to keep my eyes on the road through tears of unrelenting pleasure as I slid my lips down more and more of my own overgrown shaft. Any other drivers whose gaze wandered in our direction mustâve gotten quite a show. How many times do you get to see someone milking their own megacock behind the wheel of a moving vehicleâwhich, come to think of it, would be a great idea for premium content. If my subscribers were starting to stop believing all of this is real, then I might as well lean into the novelty.
We pulled up to our building, miraculously getting a parking spot right out front, and I could finally focus enough to get myself over the threshold of release, using my free hands to work more of the shaft and wander down to massage my taint, periodically squeezing my nutsack, which felt swollen with pent up need. I had given up being concerned about the fact that Myron was still sitting there like a deer in the headlights, instead focusing solely on bringing myself to climax.Â
But the finish line remained elusive. The harder I worked the more intense my dick pulsed with an angry heat. I swear, I could feel it growing with every heartbeat, stretching slowly to the rhythm of my strokes, pumping with more girth that I thought my own esophagus could handle. I was stretched to the limit, gagging on my enormous tool and losing myself in waves of orgasmic bliss, until finally I came.Â
And came.Â
And kept cumming, pumping what felt like an endless reservoir of jizz into my throat until I could no longer swallow it all, pulling my engorged head from my mouth as it continued shooting ropes of cum onto the ceiling, the dashboard, the backseats, and yes, my awestruck roommate, who had not taken the chance to flee the vehicle in terror, opting instead to take shots of warm goo directly to the face. After what seemed like an eternity, I ran out of spunk, or at least my body no longer had the energy to keep shooting indefinitely. My ungodly dick began to deflate, still leaking as it fell softly against the steering wheel.Â
There are no words to describe the awkwardness of turning to see your roommate casually wiping globs of your warm jizz out of their hair.Â
âSo Iâm guessing that was not normal?â he asked.
I took a beat and responded, âNoâŚno, that was pretty new,â letting the tension sit in the air between us before we both burst out in deranged laughter.
âIâŚsomehow will find a way to make this up to you,â I said.
âIâll take the first shower. You can start with laundry.â
â
I woke up half expectingâand dreadingâmy morning wood to be kissing me gently on the cheek. I was certain I had had some sort of growth spurt during the incident last night, and was at a loss for what to do with a cock that could literally eclipse my face. But, to my pleasant surprise, it only went up to its usual spot, right at the chin. Small victories, I thought, as I leaned down to give it a gentle kiss before I began dutifully sucking myself off.
As I bumbled through my morning routine, even more groggy than usual from last nightâs events, everything felt slightly off. Moving through space was a slightly different negotiation, the bathroom counter wasnât quite where I expected it, my toothbrush felt different in my hand. My dick, however, felt very much the same, gargantuan as usual but at least a familiar mode of gargantuan. I still marveled at the sheer size of it, pointing down to the toilet bowl under its own weight as I relieved myself. What am I gonna do with you? I thought, giving it a gentle shake to clear any remaining drops. I had passed through the realm of comical and ridiculous months back, and it was surreal getting used to an appendage that could only be described as unbelievable. How would I even begin to explain this to people, let alone keep it successfully hidden in public? Problems for a different day.
I threw on a crop top and my usual pair of sweat shorts, noticing that my clothes also felt slightly off on my body. As I ambled into the kitchen to find Myron making coffee, I adjusted my dick to run along my hip, but the shifting movement of my legs and my lack of underwear caused it to fall straight down, poking out the bottom of my shorts. I decided this would also have to be solved later, and besides, my roommate had been through a wildly more indecent experience not twelve hours previous.Â
âHey man, sorry about last night,â I said. âIt was kind of an emergency situation, if you know what I mean.â
âWell, I guess it isâŚsomehow my fault,â Myron said introspectively, his eyes landing on the python swinging in my loose sweats.
âYouâre still on this theory,â I laughed. âThe magic dick situation?â I gave a thoughtful scratch to the scruff of my chin.
âYou still donât believe me,â accused Myron, turning fully from the coffee pot to lean against the counter, folding his arms in his usual defensive stance.
âItâs not that I donât believe you,â I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender, âitâs just that I would maybe like more of a preponderance of evidence. More than myâŚcondition and the fact that your boss happens to have a really big dick that you keep getting to peek at for some reason.â My eyes came out of a roll to narrow on Myron, trying to catch him off guard by turning the tables toward whatever workplace dalliances heâd been keeping from me.
âItâs not like that,â he retorted, his eyes widening. âItâs a couple of mishaps and coincidences.â
âJust a few.â
âA couple.â
âAlmost a pattern.â
âBe that as it may, how do you explain last night?â
âHow do you explain it?â I returned, but decided to play along. âHonestly, I could have sworn it grew again.â
Myron looked taken aback, his head tilting to the side. âWell, I mean, it did.â
âHmm, I donât think so. Iâm pretty familiar with this guy, Iâm thinking he may have finally plateaued.â I leaned casually against the kitchen cabinets and sat my butt on the counter, that feeling of slight disorientation still sitting with me. Everything in the space just felt a little off. I wasnât trying to put my dick on display, but at this point, I had given up hope of hiding this thing. âCanât even imagine things getting even more disproportionate.â
âNo, thatâs what I mean,â he said, staring intently at me. âIt grew, but so did the rest of you.â
I laughed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. âThe plot thickens,â I said mockingly. âLet me know when the coffeeâs ready,â I said, turning to head to the next room and whacking my forehead into the top of the doorframe.
He rushed over to catch me as I fell on my ass. My balance was completely shot as I realized that my center of gravity really was significantly higher than it had been last night. My crop top wasnât just uncomfortable, it was constricting, and, taking notice of the hem, was actually never cropped even though it sat just above my belly button. I noticed that my shorts, similarly, covered much less of my thighs than what I expected. My gaze turned to my long, long legs, the heels of my feet resting completely outside my house slippers.Â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
We get Miguel's side of the story as he weighs Myron's revelation, reflecting on the past six months of trying to adjust to a slowly expanding dick that's harder and harder to hide.
1 (Previous) | 3 (Next)
âDicks keep growing around you?â
â...Yes,â Myron said.Â
I guessed that three drinks in is the point where heâs ready to spit out ridiculous theories that congeal in his head. But of course I wanted to play along.
âOk, so like, how do you do it?â I asked. I thought he was bullshitting, was hoping he was bullshitting, but wanted to see where this fantasy went.
âIâŚdonât. It just happens?â
âJust happens. Like how?â
âI donât really know, but now that I think about it, Iâve been aroundâŚkind of a lot of guys with your similar predicament.â
âMy similar predicamentâŚâ I have a habit of loosely repeating things back to someone when I donât fully believe what theyâre saying, which has annoyed all manner of partners, co-workers, and friends. But the gears in my brain were turning and I did just call Myron my good luck charmâŚ
â
Six months ago, I had been eagerly shaking the hand of our new contract hire. Myron was my first choice for the position and I didnât hide my excitement to have him join us. I only wished we could have brought him on in a permanent capacity, but in retrospect, for the sanctity of whatever can survive of my sex life and trouser seams, maybe itâs best we didnât.
But I liked him immediately. There was something about his presence that just felt energizing, so when his shuffle of workspaces was getting unwieldy, of course I had him join me in my office. Due to a fluke in the building design, it was way too big for my needsâand I wasnât a fan of the accidental âstatus symbolâ of the corner office. I had been wanting to find ways to repurpose it. Plus, I got to work more closely with Myron and, admittedly, catch glimpses of his cute bubble butt. He even let me start giving him tips on how to show off the ass he didnât even know he had.
Not that I was into him like that. I like to think Iâm pretty serious about professional decorum, which made it all the more uncomfortable when my dick began to constantly feel slightly chubbed up. I thought that maybe I had been too good at being Myronâs menswear guide and he was starting to finally show off his ass on purpose. Except a couple weeks into our new arrangement, I began to realize that that slight chub never really went down, even outside of work. In fact, I began to notice that often, it wasnât a chub at all, I was totally soft. JustâŚbigger.
Which didnât make any kind of sense. Iâm 35, my dick was respectable, but I had been familiar with its form for quite some time now. Except whenever I would jack off, it would feel just slightly more substantial in my hand. I thought it mustâve been something I was eating. I was getting harder than I had in years, not to mention some unusually deep orgasms. And as they would calm down, with me breathing into a glob of my own cum splashed against my lips, it seemed like my dick wouldnât quite go down all the way. There was just a little more of that slight chub, which wasnât a chub at all.
It took me about a month to realize that I was genuinely getting bigger down there, not that I was complaining or really needed an explanation. Frankly, I was excited. If the Universe wanted to grant me a little extra meat, there must be a good enough reason. The only issue was getting used to a package that was getting slightly and slightly and slightly more prominent, with a juicy pair of balls that were following suit. The bulge I decided to play off, but it was getting less and less comfortable, especially in anything fitted or tailored. As it became a distraction at workâfor me and everyone elseâI switched to looser pants. Not my favorite, but some back of closet pairs that would suffice while I got things fitted again.
But eventually, it wasnât just the fit of the pants that was the problem; it was the embarrassing need to start keeping an extra pair around. Whenever I was aroused, I started leaking precum like a faucet, and now how much I would try and ignore it, the slight movements in my crotch would slide my cockhead through more and more of my gooey juices, starting a positive feedback loop of horniness.
Not to mention that when this thing got going, it really got going. I had been having the most mind blowing orgasms of my life, but needed to relieve myself more and more often. And once all the blood started heading to my now definitely big, starting to look disproportionate dick, there was only one way out. I would sneak off to one of the single stall bathrooms at work, even bringing a small prostate massager for my hungry hole, holding back a scream of pleasure that wouldâve alerted the entire office to a bathroom stall covered in globs of semen. I began to fall into this routine fairly easily, purposefully walking out of the room and whatever folder or shoulder bag or colorful vase was nearby as camouflage for an enormous, pulsing bulge. This whole orgasmic routine had worked beautifully, until I met an ironic, erotic fate on the morning train.
â
I was still half asleep, trying to sip enough coffee to undo the effects of having been out past 2am for a show I wanted to see, and resolvingâyet againâthat this was a habit I would one day decide to break. But it had been a good show, not the least of which because of a fitness twink with the juiciest bubble butt. We hadnât spent all that much time eye fucking each other from across the venue before he was grinding his ass against my crotch. The look on his face when he realized what I was packing was almost enough to send me over the edge right then and there. We moved through the pleasantries at the beat of the musicâhis nameâs Winston, halfway through grad school, etcâbut alas, we both had early mornings and ended up parting ways, ships passing in the night.
That is, until I got caught up in the reflection of the train doors, leering at an ass that looked all too familiar, and even juicier in the early morning light. If I wasnât mistaken, you could see it jiggle with the rumble of the tracks. His pink gym shorts looked painted on and his matching tank top accentuated his succulent pecs. I recognized his ass before I recognized his face, but couldnât miss the deep brown eyes staring directly back at me. He tilted his head and gave me a playful wink in recognition, proceeding to indulge in the sight of the bulge in my pants that was about to be difficult to hide.
I covered myself with my backpack, incredulous that this man had me rock hard in rush hour and noting with mild annoyance that my dick was snaking even further down my left leg than it had last night. Winston only looked more bemused by my embarrassment, and his adorable scruffy smile wasnât helping the fact that the pressure of my backpack and rumble of the rails were driving me to the point of no return. I began mapping out the path from the train to the office building to the mostly-likely-to-be-empty-bathroom for when I reached my eventual stop, but wouldnât even be that lucky.
As Winston turned to leave at the next stop, shooting me an almost regretful wink, the twitch back and forth of his perky cheeks was enough to send me over the edge right then and there. My whole body tensed as I struggled to not reveal the sheer power of this orgasm to everyone around, my dick pulsing in its confined space as I shot ropes of cum into my now ruined slacks. Holding my backpack gingerly in front of my crotch, I got off at the next stop and power walked to a department store that I knew was nearby, texting Myron to let him know Iâd be late.
So I was a little preoccupied when I returned to the same club a few weeks later with Myron. I was caught up in the fantasy of my subway crush making a repeat appearance, and I could still manage to shove my unruly dick into a tight pair of leather pants. As we lost ourselves to the music, I thought less and less of my random encounter bae, my attention turning instead to enjoying a night out with my friend, who seemed to be a locus of attention himself. Not that heâd noticed, still reliably, delightfully oblivious, but I had to take some credit for putting a look together that would make his ass really stand outâeven more than I had hoped.
I leaned in for my now typical fashionista gloating, slurring âTold you youâd look great in those pants,â in his ear. Except I had not anticipated being slightly off balance as I did this, and suddenly I found my hand settling on Myronâs waist and staying. Before I could finish the calculus on how long was too long to linger, he gracefully closed the gap between us, his cheeks coming to rest against my crotch.
My suddenly hard dick was surging against my pants, and sent what felt like a jolt of electricity to my brain as it brushed up against Myronâs ass. It settled into a consistent heat in my head that clouded my thoughts as I returned the favor, settling into a rhythmic grind. Sweaty and intoxicated, a voice, soft and distant in the recesses of my brain, worried how professionally appropriate this was. But I was in the moment.
The dull heat started to pound at my temples, reverberating into a feeling of discomfort against the fabric of my tight clothes. I rested my head in the crook of Myronâs neck as it reached a fever pitch, until suddenly the sensation shot down to my dick. It felt weird, like it was full to burst and pulsing against the seams, even weirder than usual. It feltâŚtoo big.
I made up an excuse about having to piss, and before I could register that Myron even heard what I said, I was making a beeline to the back alley. As I dodged expertly among the bumping crowd, having made this exact trek at many a show on many a night, I almost tripped over myself suddenly making eye contact across the room with none other than Winston, my weekday morning bubble booty subway crush. I was brought back to a full speed power walk by the code red emergency signal coming from my cock, and for a second I thought my missed (and found) connection could also see and hear the sirens and flashing lights just below my waist. His eyes were locked onto my junk in what, in the dim lighting, appeared to be some combination of disbelief and ravenous hunger, mouth agape and subtlety long gone.Â
I made it to the alley, which was, thankfully, empty. As I pulled out my dick, it almost felt stuck, and when I added some extra elbow grease I hauled out something even I wasnât expecting. I had gotten used to the growthâat least I thought I didâbut this was noticeably bigger than it was even an hour previous.
âJesusâŚâ I whispered.
â...Christ,â exclaimed a voice from the doorway, backgrounded by the resonances of untz untz that wandered into the alley with Winston, my flabbergasted crush. I guess my dick was approaching sight to behold territory, but Winston looked almost reverent, biting his lip in anticipation.
This fantasy had already played out in my head multiple times, but I didnât think the circumstances would be quite like this. As another throb of fullness sent a shiver of too muchness, I tried as casually as I could to settle into something resembling a relaxed pose, resting my right hand on the brick wall of the club, and realizing that the booming base inside was only exacerbating the throbbing coming from my groin.
âThatâs even bigger than I thought,â said Winston.
âYeah, same,â I replied with a wry smile.
âCan I?â asked Winston.
âThought youâd never ask,â I said, my whole body tensing as another pang of too bigness pulsed through my body, my dick rising to just below parallel, drooping under its own weight.
Winston seemed to float across the gap between us, gracefully dropping to both knees and resting a hand gently along my shaft. My dick was painfully sensitive and I was driven almost to the edge, fighting a losing battle against the entrance of Winstonâs nose, sniffing hungrily along my glans, followed by his juicy lips. I couldnât tell if it was three minutes or three hours while he slurped hungrily at my cock, swallowing as much of me as he could as I burst ropes and ropes of thick, endless cum.
I mustâve peaced out to another dimension for a bit, because suddenly Winston was holding me up with his strong arms, taking advantage of my lapse in balance to go in for a cum-flavored kiss, sensually exploring the the inside of my mouth as I caressed his bubble butt, which felt even bigger up close.
He broke our kiss to gingerly pull my phone out of my pocket and shoot himself a text. âForgot to do this last time,â he said, with a quick roll of his eyes. âMy friends are going to start wondering where I ran off to, but you should call me,â he said, slipping the door back open and disappearing inside.
As I came back to reality in the crisp night air, I realized that I actually did have to pee, relieving my softening dick behind a dumpster, and letting my eyes drift up to the full moon above, lavishing in the residual orgasmic pleasure. I heard the door open and began a lazy smile, thinking Winston had come back for seconds, and instead seeing Myron staring agape at the appendage that I had triedâand failedâto hide from view. I made up something quick about the line to the bathroom as I somehow got my dick back into my too tight pants without breaking eye contact with Myronâs incredulous expression.
I wasnât enjoying becoming familiar with that look, but the initial shock does die down, I guess. We were back to work the next day like normal, chatting here and there about the show the night before, not talking about the elephant in the room, but also not worrying about it. Honestly, I felt more comfortable in the office after this, knowing that Myron is aware of, and apparently cool with, my mysteriously expanding cock, surprising myself with how much tension Iâd been holding over weeks of carefully controlled movements and positions. I guess the secretâs out, I thought with relief. At least between us.
â
So when Myronâs contract was reaching its end, I proposed a send off at one of my fave hiking spots. Iâd been promising to take him there for a whileânot that he was all that enthusiastic about itâafter he mentioned he was familiar with it but never went. As I was leaving to pick him up I caught myself in the mirror, admiring my very cute, but maybe less practical, outfit, and seeing my own eyes bug out at the bulge in my hiking shorts. I donât think I had worn those since the previous summer, and by the looks of it they were not prepared to handle my growth spurt. At this point, I was getting used to the stares in public and just wanted to look cute, but by the look of the seams on the thin material, I decided to pack a backup just for peace of mind. I reasoned that it might be it for these shorts but they could easily get me through a hike with no mishaps.
Turns out I was comically wrong. Maybe I started off too intense and too fast, but I could almost feel the fabric fighting for its life, stretched tight around my junk. Myron and I took a strong lead early on, though I was gradually getting slowed down by the discomfort in my crotch. We took a breather at a bend in the trail, deciding to wait for the others to catch up. As I caught my breath, I gave myself a moment of respite, resting my hand on my knees and appreciating the cool breeze across my face and, distressingly, along my cock, bobbing lazily in the open air.
Myron sprang into action while I was still registering the situation, shooing me off the trail and away from prying eyes. Much to my grim satisfactionâand his surpriseâI whipped out my backup pair and slipped them on, getting the zipper over my prodigious cock just as our coworkers rounded the corner.
The rest of the hike was thankfully uneventful and I was perked up by being proven right about the waterfall at the end. When we got drinks after, I stayed with Myron until his roommate, Ty, could take him home. I thought it was the least I could do seeing as I had now accidentally flashed him twice. At some point, with sufficient alcoholic lubrication, we finally did address the elephant in the room. I felt comfortable enough around him to address my recent changes, but hadnât expected his response. I thought it was just him messing around, but as I reminisced over the past six months, it really felt like the gears were starting to slide into place.
âBut the other guys in the office,â I said, still in mild disbelief. âI mean, they look like theyâre decent, but I donât think anyoneâs got all this,â I said, gesturing at my overstuffed crotch.
âMight be like, a proximity and time thing?â offered Myron. âIâm just as confused as you are.â
âProximity and timeâŚright, we share an office eight hours a day and a dancefloor all too often. So if you had a roommate or somethingââ
âWell.â Myronâs eyes widened in epiphany as I remembered that he does in fact have a roommate whoâs supposed to be taking him home. In fact, I guessed that must be Ty approaching from behind Myron, their heavily tatted stoner look an interesting foil to Myronâs more restrained appearance. I assumed it was them by the work uniform, and this, in the context of Myronâs recent revelation, was confirmed by the bulge snaking past the bottom of his apron to his left knee.
As they approached with a basket of fries, I noted that Tyâs gait seemed slightly off, as if they had to accommodate for their trouser snake, but they seemed accustomed to the extra long appendage.
âHey,â they said to Myron, âkitchenâs closing soon, you want these? Someone didnât pick up their order.â
âUh, thanks dude,â said Myron, still lost in thought. âOh! This is Miguel, Iâve mentioned Miguel, right?â
âYeah, great to meet you!â exclaimed Ty, turning to me and revealing an up close view of the pipe that maybe they thought they had made inconspicuous.
As they walked back to the kitchen to start closing, my eyes lingering on their lithe frame and peculiar walk, I thought out loud to Myron, âYouâve been roommates for a yââ
âA year. Yup,â replied Myron, a hint of apprehension in his voice.
(I couldn't get this phrase out of my head and I thought it was funny, so I'm seeing where it leads.)
Until recently, Myron was oblivious to the fact that dicks would get mysteriously bigger the longer someone hung out with him. He begins putting the pieces together as his boss, Miguel, starts going through all too familiar changes below the belt.
2 - Next
âDicks keep growing around you?â
âYes,â I said. âOr at least I think. Itâs not exactly an airtight theory, but there are some examples.â
âAnd it justâŚhappens,â responded my supervisor Miguel.
âApparently.â
âAnd itâs happening to me?â
âPretty sure.â
So I have a theory. Maybe just a hunch, I donât know. And Iâm not doing it on purpose, but Iâm pretty sure Iâm the cause. For lack of a better way of saying, dicks keep growing around me. And I donât mean chubbing up, I mean literally growing. Like adding on real, tangible inches with no end in sight. Itâs very slow, and I think it comes down to how often weâre in close proximity, but if you spend enough time around me, you may end up with more, sometimes much more, below the belt. I donât have any idea how this works, but I wish I did. Iâm still just piecing clues together.
So I guess Exhibit A would be my boss, Miguel. I do a lot of temporary contract work, which isnât ideal, but allows me to string together rent while working on some of my own creative freelance stuff. I was hired onto this project six months ago to restructure the data management system of a small, local startup and they miscalculated the resultant shift in office space. After a series of awkward corners and at least one broom closet, they decided to just stick me in Miguelâs office. Miguel requested it actually. He figured I would be of more use working in tandem with him than I would blocking everyoneâs path to the bathroom.Â
I was less than pleased to look like his makeshift corner secretary, and honestly Iâve dealt with much worse, but he didnât mind. In fact, he seemed to welcome the company. Miguel kept a tight beard and even tighter fade, always perfectly put together in what looked like one-step-below-designer business casual, with the cherry on top being the neon purple and green barefoot shoes he tended to wear to work. I wouldâve been annoyed if not for the fact that he was a genuinely nice, thoughtful guy, and more than just a captivating smile. Plus, I came around on his use of a balance ball chair once I was introduced to his tight butt clad in well fitting slacks. Not that I ever really thought about him that way.
So we shared a space and had a congenial enough dynamic. We both had similar tastes in some of the experimental music scene locally and would even go out to some shows together. Also heâs a self professed menswear expert and started systemically giving my wardrobe a much needed overhaul. So I found it odd when his usual form fitting, modern pants began to lose their flair.
At one point, he chalked it up to seasonal shifts, trying out some new, looser looks for the spring. Not to mention baggier, boxier styles had been taking the place of slim fit jeans and tight shirts, at least according to him. A few times he texted me in the morning, saying he was running late because of a âwardrobe malfunction,â which I never thought much of. I had come to expect him cycling through three or four outfit changes before he finally made it out.Â
For a while it seemed like he mightâve just been getting the wrong fit, since he developed a habit of adjusting his crotch often, or even wincing slightly when he sat down too hard. And I had had multiple friends and partners with similar issues, so offered some tailoring tips, but he didnât want to dwell on it.
I got a good idea why when we went to a show together one evening. A DJ we both liked was playing a set at a warehouse on a Thursday night, and we figured we had to go. Weâd bring a change of clothes, work late on Thursday, then roll into the office late Friday morning. We could even call it a team meeting or professional development or something.Â
The show was euphoric. I felt like I was rising up and outside of myself as our bodies bounced on the packed dance floor, in so small part due to the haze of surprisingly strong drinks and party drugs. While Miguel seemed to be enjoying it, he was still preoccupied with the constant need to readjust his crotch. I had seen him in this pair of skinny leather pantsâhis ass alone was unforgettableâbut they seemed especially constricting.Â
âTold you youâd look great in those pants,â came Miguelâs familiar voice in my ear. He never missed an opportunity to brag about being my personal stylist, but I had to admit I looked better than expected. However, I didnât expect Miguelâs strong hands to linger on my hips, nor did I expect myself to close the rest of the gap between us. Iâd been catching guys checking us out all night and I was feeling myself, so I thought Fuck it, as we began grinding to the rhythm. Maybe it was the fantasy of the moment or whatever I was on, but the bulge in Miguelâs pants felt major, and his crotch was radiating heat. Â
Suddenly, Miguelâs hands tensed up and he pulled away, his hand trailing against my lower back as he turned to leave. I asked if he was doing alright and he sputtered something about needing to piss, quickly disappearing into the crowd. I didnât think much of it, and quickly got lost in the crush of moving bodies, and more than a few lingering caresses just below my hips. To say I was getting hot and bothered was an understatement and eventually I realized that I also needed to relieve myself, aiming in the vague direction of the bathroom but quickly getting lost in the crush of the crowd. Eventually I stumbled into a back alley, a rush of chill spring night air hitting my lungs as the party thumped through the wall behind me.
I turned my head at the sound of a deep sigh of visceral relief, looking to the left to see Miguel, eyes closed and head thrown back as he pissed loudly against the side of the wall. I wasnât exactly in my right mind, and didnât stop myself from glancing at his cock, which, semisoft, was hanging halfway down to his knees, jiggling comically as he shook off the last drops. It wasnât just massive, it was beautiful, majestic under the streetlight, draped in shadow by Miguelâs outstretched arm, other hand bracing against the wall.
âSorry,â he said, making me quickly realize that while my eyes were hyperfocused on his schlong, his were on me watching me hyperfocus on his schlong. âThere was a line to the bathroom and it was about to be a photo finish,â a slight smile turning up his lips as he saw me finally draw my eyes away from his stunning dick.
âI, uh, was just about to join you,â I replied, deliberately keeping my eyes on his as he struggled to fit his prodigious cock back into his pants, by some miracle getting the zipper up after a few tries.
The awkwardness mustâve been my own anxious imagination, as the next day at work he actually seemed more relaxed than he had in a while, his bubble butt perched on his exercise ball chair as he sat with a leisurely spread, his bulge plainly visible. I guess the secretâs out, I thought. At least between us.
â
When the summer sun had come to stay, and my contract was wrapping up, he proposed an office hiking trip at one of his favorite trails, a moderately strenuous 3.5 mile track that led to an impressive waterfall tucked away just outside the city. I hadnât been, but was familiar with it because my roommate, Ty, worked in the kitchen at a bar nearby that was kind of the post-hike spot. My apartment, according to Miguel, was âon the wayâ to the trailhead. I begged to differ, but he insisted on the kind gesture of giving me a lift, until we reached the compromise of me getting a ride home with Ty when their shift ended. So Miguel picked me up from my place, decked out in hiking boots, thick socks, a breezy short sleeve button down, and some five inch linen shorts with a sizable bulge. I had already caught a glimpse of his dick, so I wasnât surprised by what looked like rolled up tube socks tucked into his crotch, but this looked bigger than I remembered.Â
And I donât think I was the only one who noticed either. Miguel was certainly the center of attention when we met up with the others at the trailhead, albeit delightfully oblivious in his excitement to take us on this outing. And it looked like I may have missed the memo about the dress code. All the other guys were wearing similar short shorts, showing off their own respectable bulgesâthough not as impressive as Miguelâs.
As we set off down the trail, Miguel took an early lead, looking like he had no intention of slowing down. As we settled into a rhythm, I found myself consistently a few steps behind himâadmiring more than the view of the sceneryâwith the rest of the group farther back but still within earshot. I began to think that Miguel shouldâve stuck to the breezy bottoms he had fallen into wearing, because he was constantly adjusting the hem of his shorts as they dug into his meaty quads. At times, he seemed visibly uncomfortable.Â
As we reached a bend in the trail with a makeshift bench, we decided to take a breather and let the others catch up. Miguelâs shirt was glued to the middle of his back by a trail of sweat that ran down to his butt crack. I had trouble noticing anything else as he bent over and rested his hands on his knees, pushing his tight butt in my direction as he caught his breath.
From behind, the crotch of his pants looked overstuffed and straining at the seams. I thought it must have been my exhausted brain and overactive imagination until with a soft rip, the crotch of his shorts gave out, his dick gracefully bobbing two thirds of the way to his knees, definitely bigger than before and paired with some proportionately huge nuts. Miguel, his cock now freed of its constraints, let out a sigh of relief before apparently coming to the realization of the cool breeze on his oversized genitals.Â
Hearing the others approaching, I sprang into action, pushing him off the trail and just behind a stand of bushes, hoping passers by would assume he was relieving himself and keep moving.Â
âSorry,â he said. âI brought up a backup pair just in case, give me one second.â
âA backup pair?â I asked, wanting to respect his privacy but also betraying my own fascination with this super dick that I had now been introduced to twice.
âYeah, I thought I wouldnât have an issue yet with these pants, but wanted to be careful.â
âWhat do you mean issue?â I asked. âAnd what do you mean yet?â
âI donât know, I think I need to see somebody about this, itâs likeââ he was cut off by one of their co-workers catching up to them on the trail. He quickly finished changing and stuffed his cock back in his shorts, shooting me a brief look of thanks.
â
Thankfully, the rest of the outing passed without incident. We actually had a great time, and Miguel was certainly correct about the waterfall being worth the aggravation. A few of the guys even waded in to cool off, inadvertently revealing some very heavy bulges through the thin, wet fabric of their shorts. Miguel hung back.Â
We got drinks afterward and it was obvious Miguel was a post-hike usual. As the afternoon wore on to evening, everyone fell away slowly, until it was just the two of us. He insisted on hanging around until Ty could take me home, and I wouldâve staunchly refused if not for how much I enjoyed his companyâand how he wouldâve stayed against my wishes anyways.
He hadnât really been drinkingâconcerned about everyone else having a good time, in typical Miguel fashionâbut I had maybe had more than I should. During a lull in the conversation, he leaned in slightly and said âThanks for the save back there. Wouldâve never lived it down at work.âÂ
âTo be honest, I was not expecting all that,â I said, trying to be careful not to push boundaries too far too fast.Â
âHonestly, me neither,â Miguel responded, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced into the distance. âTMI, but Iâve been kind of having a late growth spurt the last six months. Or something.â
And well, this is when the pieces finally started to come together. I had had hunches and musings over the years about my propensity to meet some truly noteworthy cocks, but something deep in my brain felt compelled to ask âWhen did it start?â Â
With a thoughtful look in his eye, he glanced at me and said, âAround when you showed up. You might be my lucky charm.â
Fucking tops. It's Friday, nearly midnight and instead of dancing I'm stuck in the washroom at a gay club, hiding from some shithead.
"Tops, right?"
Next to me is a tall guy in a flannel shirt. He's pretty hot, but, urgh, he's the last thing I want to be thinking of right now.
"Yeah," I try to sound chatty, but it's clear I'm pretty annoyed "How did you know?"
He turns to me and crosses his arms, grinning, "Oh, you know. What happened? I bet you have loads of guys chasing after you"
It's true. I mean, look at this ass
"Urgh. This guy grabbed me from behind and started grinding against me. Can you believe it?? He didn't even ask, all I did was wink at him."
"Hmphh, you winked at him? Sounds like he was giving you what you wanted. You know, all you bottoms are the same. Needy. Demanding. Seeing real men as just dumb grunting animals. Maybe that guy was trying to do you a favour?"
I groan and turn around to leave "Oh, fuck you." Just what I need, another smug shithead.
He heckles me from behind. "God, twinks like you are so fucking lame. Maybe we're fed up of being nagged all the time?". He sounds kinda angry, but I ignore him, and roll my eyes.
"You know what, grab your dick."
I freeze, and my eyes go wide with shock. Why am I so shaken? That's not the worst thing I've heard at a club. I try to move but I can't, I just sputter, "Wh- what?? I'm not doing that"
He grins, "I'm not asking"
I feel something pull against my pants, but I look down and see it's my own arm
"WHAT THE FUCK! Are you... you're doing this?" My arm creeps down, playfully running my fingers over my tight stomach, and slips down through my waist band.
"Haha, yeah I am bro. So, bottom bottom bottom. What to do with you. What if I open your eyes a little?"
I, I start to shake. Something in me feels good. Beefy guys start to flash through my mind, and whatever's taken over my hand knows what it's doing down there. Athletes, wrestlers, big bulges in tight clothes...
"Here's the thing. There's enough brats like you around here bro. Someone's gotta do something. Think of it like, uh, giving back to the community."
The images in my mind start to change. The models get smaller, swapping out athletes for tight twinks in tighter shorts. Instead of biceps, I'm thinking of big, curvy asses, and my hand... I can't control myself. I wanna grab someone, anyone, and start grinding.
But then, one of my crushes slides by - Jason, a HUGE wrestler on my college team. Biggest pecs I have seen in my life. Thank fuck, finally, a real man. He looks at me with his big, brown eyes and oh my god, my heart flutters. I look up at him and in my mind I start to walk towards him
The guy in the flannels shirt is egging me on, "Go on, do it." How does he know what I'm thinking? Whatever.
I reach out, and Jason smiles. That big, goofy, handsome grin... and then he turns around. He gets down on the mats, on his hands and knees, raising his big, firm ass into the air. I'm looking right at it.
I squirm. "Oh god. No. No no no no no"
"Uh, actually, yes." The guy in the washroom grins. "I want you to be a dumb, grunting animal, you will do that for me. Are you starting to understand?"
I lean down over the sink, but in my fantasy I fall against Jason. I hold him tight, pinning his big sweaty form down against the mats. At first, there's barely anything I can do to control him - he's WAY bigger than me, but soon I start to feel... bolder. Firmer. He tries to roll me over, but I slip my arm around his shoulder and a vein pops up over my bicep. My legs strain and my glutes start to stretch. Fuck, my whole body is throbbing.
I grunt, and slam him downwards, which gives moment to catch my breathe. Does he feel less sweaty? I wipe my forehead. Wait, am I more sweaty?
"Yeah bro. I know what you're thinking, I know how much you love guys after they've worked out. Damp clothes, that manly smell... it's exactly what every bottom wants these days. Now it's yours"
We twist around each other, and I reach my arms across his body. Wait, all the way around? His shoulders have gotten smaller, thinner... twinkier. And, well, mine are the opposite. He lunges, but I grapple him. All the mass has gone from his legs, meanwhile, my biceps are big enough to crack a skull.
"I want to make you a real fuckboy, you know? Someone who just thinks with his dick. Gym, sex, gym, sex, gym, sex... I want you to always be turned on, I want it to control you, I want you to never get a break."
I've got him, firm between my legs. Jason's tiny now, the same size I was 2 minutes ago, and I start to grind my bulge against his soft, bubbly ass. Fuck. Fuck! It's so good. This is the best fantasy I've ever had in my life. I want to fuck him so bad.
My whole body is throbbing, shaking. Blood is pulsing through my, through my everything. Fuuuuuck. I feel almost dizzy. Everything about this almost feels real. I go to lift up my shirt, but it's gone, and I run my other hand over my stomach. It's like I can really feel the abs
I cum. Oh my god, did I just cum in a... a washroom at a night club? And, I was thinking about topping a guy??
"Ahem". I turn to stare at the guy next to me. He looks pleased with himself. Very pleased.
"There bro! How do you look?"
I look in the mirror, and it hits me like a fucking brick. My body... my clothes. Oh my god, everything's gone. THAT WAS REAL? I look like some stupid fuckboy. Am I a stupid fuckboy? Is that a JOCKSTRAP? My jeans are gone, now just a pair of shorts. Very short shorts. Is that it? Is that all I'm wearing? Over the top of my huge pecs I see my converses are gone too, swapped out for some worn down gym shoes.
This can't be real. If it is, my boyfriend is 100% going to break up with me. How do I even explain this? That I'm like, ripped now? No, wait... that's not it. I try to imagine him topping me but, but, fuck, it feels so gross. A total turnoff
"Of course you don't want to let him top you. You're not a bottom anymore... that's kind of the whole point."
But he would never let me top him. But maybe we don't need to have sex for a while. That wouldn't be so bad, would it...
"AHAHAHA, sorry, with your new sex drive? What part of a fucking animal don't you understand"
There's no way he would want to stay with a horny fuckboy, but, but...
what if I am a stupid fuckboy? I'm already thinking of a nice, tight twink. I'm not that interested in him anyway - he's too tall, too beefy. All the guys I saw earlier are racing through my head. The skinny guy I danced with with the great ass, that cute short one by the bar... urgh, he had those perfect legs, that cute crop top, tight stomach... I bite my lower lip and reach down...
"NO!!"
I start hyperventilating. "This isn't me. I'm not a jock, I am ABSOLUTELY not a top. And," I lift up my arm, "there's no way I actually smell like this"
He laughs, like he's having the fucking time of his life. Maybe he is. "HAHA, sorry dude, yeah you do. And, yeah, you are. Think of that fuck stick like a gift, not just to you, but also to every cute boy you see on grindr. You'll get used to it, trust me"
His words flood my head... I imagine scrolling through the app in bed later, looking at the sea of boys all desperate for me... I reach down again...
"NO! Fuck! Make it stop. Why are you doing this to me?!!"
He pauses for a moment, then sighs and shakes his head. His expression... he's looking at me like he thinks I'm stupid. Does he think I'm stupid? No way - this motherfucker!
"Really? I know I fried a few wires up there dude, but you cannot seriously be asking that. Why do you think I'm doing it?"
"I - I..." I can't find any words. I really don't know. I just don't fucking get it. He's ruining my body, my LIFE, and for what? Fun? Revenge?
But he laughs, and looks at me. I'd think he was being pitiful if he wasn't grinning so fucking hard.
"Bro," he says, "I'm doing this because I think it's hot."
My heart sinks. "You're doing this because, because it fucking turns you on? Don't you give a shit about me at ALL?? I'm going to lose my boyfriend, I'm trapped in this horny, sweaty, disgusting body..."
"Just stop complaining. You know, so what if you don't get in a say in this! Sometimes you just gotta take what life gives you, and right now that's a huge fucking cock"
I feel like I'm about to burst out crying. He grabs my new, boyish face, and pulls it up towards his. "So, yah! Glad I could clear that up," he laughs, "Look, ok, this isn't gonna work if you're gonna be such a fucking loser about it. It's also not gonna work out if you don't work out - you gotta be going to the gym from now on. Those biceps, those pecs... you're chiseled like a statue and I'm not gonna let those new muscles go to waste. You need to be in there DAILY."
He gives my cheeks a squeeze, then lets me go. I clutch my face. It feels different, unfamiliar. Am I crying?
"URGH, bro, will you just quit looking at me like that. Puppy dog eyes, I shouldn't have made you so fucking handsome... Look, I'm gonna give you one last chance, ok: cheer up, right fucking now, or else I'm gonna have to do some rewiring. Right now, all your decisions are being made up there", he flicks my forehead, and then he smirks and grabs my crotch. "But, if I flick the switch, this guy gets to do all the thinking. You'll be so dumb, so horny, HAH, you'll be drooling over your own dick. A real fucking animal. Got it?"
If I don't get a grip, it's over for me. But what do I do? I gulp, and try to swallow my tears. I wash my face a little in the sink. He stares down at me, and the two of us stand in silence. It feels like forever, but it must have been just a minute.
I look up at him, and let out a squeak. "Yeah. You're right. I got it"
"No." he says "I don't think you do."
Damnnnnn, look at these pecs. Fuck, what was I doing? Whatever, I gotta get back out there. See if that blonde guy by the bar is taken. Just thinking of him and his ass makes me wanna... I grab my crotch, and let out a moan.
Wait, is that cum? Yoo how did I not realise. I clean myself up and slide my waistband back over my jockstrap, letting it snap into place against my cum gutters. I flex, and light shines off my glistening, sweaty muscles - if someone were to see me now, they'd think I was a greek statue. These strong, firm thighs, the perfect curve of my glutes... these shoulders look like they were made by fucking Michelangelo.
Nah, I'm way better than that. A statue doesn't have a dick. See you at the club, bro
Iâve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me⌠fit in?
FML: In
As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:
âI know that Iâve only known you for a few weeks, but damn thatâs disappointing.â
âWhatâs so wrong about wanting to pledge?â you replied, âIt would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.â
âNo I get it,â he scowled, âbut really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?â
âListen, they werenât my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less⌠dim.â I knew he wouldnât leave it there.
âDim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I canât believe youâre asking me to use my power for this.â He began walking towards the door.
I called after, âLook, Iâve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.â
He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, âIf he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.â
âPlease dude.â I stared at him.
After a moment he relented, âFine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?â
âYes. And I promise Iâll get you into any party you want!â
âFine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.â
He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, âHereâs your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.â
You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around âAnd do what? What does it do?â
He rolled his eyes, âAnd do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.â
âNo magic words or anything?â I asked.
He grinned, âOh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you donât lose it.â
It fits well around your neck, âIâm headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?â
âTrust me,â he says, âYou want in the frat? You will be in the frat.â
When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever itâs effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.
You donât recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadnât ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.
âDamn I look goodâ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didnât want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.
You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing itâs very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.
Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterdayâs workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.
And then the door behind you opened.
The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.
âHey man, you okay?â he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.
âYeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like youâre about to vomit.â you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.
âBro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a⌠like a-â
âLike a frat house should?â you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.
âI donât know bro, you should get- get that looked at.â
His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasnât long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.
Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:
âI wanna be in the frat bro.â You said.
He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, âYeah man, sure thing. Iâll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-â
âNo,â you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, âI want to be in the frat bro.â You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.
He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.
He moaned like he was in heat, âYeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.â
You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didnât wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.
I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasnât my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles werenât the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?
So I went over to his place. I wasnât surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be soâŚnice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.
As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadnât felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, âYou feeling good, baby?â
I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.
As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.
âThere you go, much better. Let yourself just floatâ
I couldnât resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.
I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadnât been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.
Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didnât realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didnât feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldnât follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I donât know if I would have changed a thing.
No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldnât find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent years perfecting my splits. After about two months, I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.
I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldnât have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldnât grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little moreâŚsubmissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someoneâŚsomeone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.
He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.
âDo you want me to fuck you?â I asked plainly.
âYe-yes, sir.â
I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.
I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldnât wait to make another man in my image.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I cringed and plugged my nose as I leaned over my paper. Brayden was at it again. He had brought his nasty friends over and was having a farting contest with them. I didnât understand why he had to be my roommate. Why couldn't he be staying at one of the nasty frat houses or with his other jock friends? Why did I have to be the one who was forced to listen (and smell) an orchestra of farts and burps while I studied. I tried talking to the housing department about it, begging for a different roommate. I would have taken literally anybody else, but they said that there was nothing they could do. I was stuck with him.Â
Ever since the day I first moved into the dorm, I had been subjected to the tortures of Braydenâs flatulence. Over time I had gotten mostly accustomed to the smell (a bucket full of air fresheners helped to keep my room mostly stench free), the sound is something I could never get used to.
BUUURRRPP
âMan that was NASTY!â
Even with my door closed, earbuds in, and focusing on studying, I couldnât escape it. Enough was enough, I slammed open the door and stared angrily at the trio of jocks sitting on the couch and laughing their asses off.
âLook who finally came out to join us!â Brayden stood up, his massive 6â4 figure towering over me. âThe nerd emerges from his cave.â
âWould it really kill you to put on some deodorant? Or maybe a visit to the doctor would be more beneficial, all of that farting and burping canât possibly be normal.â
âYouâre disgusting.â I said bitterly, âBut then again Iâm not surprised, I wouldnât expect anyone other than a group of dumb, hairy animals to smell the part.â Braydenâs two friends snickered and made overexaggerated gasping sounds. I allowed myself a bit of a smirk, maybe thisâll put that jock into his place.Â
Brayden seemed unfazed by my insults. âYou know, I really wish you were more like us, man. Youâd be really fun to have around. Plus, you look like you could pull off some NASTY shit.â
âIâd rather do anything then regress to your level.â I huffed and slammed my door shut, muffling the sounds of their laughter.Â
The next evening I came back to the dorm to find the place abandoned, no sign of Brayden or his dumb friends. I sighed, finally I would be able to be alone and get some studying done in peace and quiet. I closed my bedroom door and set down my stuff. Better get started before-
BRAAAAAP
I jumped out of my seat, was that me, or was that Brayden announcing his entrance? Further inspection revealed that there was nobody at the front door, which had to mean⌠Before I could even begin to imagine how Brayden would have reacted if he could have heard that, I spotted something red on the chair. I walked over and picked it up, a whoopie cushion.
âVerrrrry funny, Brayden.â I said aloud. âBut if you think that-â I was interrupted as a pungent smell assaulted my nostrils. The whoopie cushion, thereâs no way it could have created a smell right? I squeezed it again.
BRAAAAAP
Yup, it was definitely the whoopie cushion. But how was that even possible? And how did it smell that bad? I put the whoopie cushion down on the floor. There was probably some kind of fake fart spray coating the thing. Now, back to work, I really didnât want to waste any more quiet time before-
BUUURRRPP
âLittle bro Iâm back!â
Fuck.
I started walking towards the door, exams were coming up and I really needed to study so I was prepared to BEG for some silence. As I made my way across the room, I tripped over the whoopie cushion
BRAAAAAPâWhoa little bro, that was a nasty one!â
The smell tripled in intensity, as I tried to get back up to open a window, my legs gave out and I fell back down onto the cushion.
BRAAAAAP
My eyes began to water. Every inhale of the pungent stink was making me feel lightheaded. After some struggling, I managed to stand up, I felt woozy, like I had inhaled laughing gas. It was getting harder to think, so hard, why think at all? I blinked. What was I SAYING? I tried to hold my breath as I opened the door, but found myself breathing heavily as the fumes coursed through my body. I flung open the door and stumbled into- my bathroom? Wasnât I trying to leave my room? Iâm so stupid I must have gone to the wrong door by mistake, heh. What the fuck was happening? As I tried to collect my thoughts, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked⌠good. My arms and chest appeared bigger and more toned and I felt taller. It must the the smell making me see things thereâs no way-
BRAAAAAP
âŚ
That one came from me.Â
BRAAAAAP
That one too.Â
With each fart, I found myself getting taller, more muscular and toned. My pale computer nerd body melted away into a sporty physique.Â
âCome on little bro donât you understand? Youâre no fun, so I have to make you fun. I canât believe that whoopie cushion actually worked! But the rest is up to me now. Did you know you REEK?â
I sniffed my armpits, they smelled awful. I began searching through the cupboards for some deodorant.
âNot that you care anyways.â
BRAAAAAP
That's right, I didnât care. I loved my smell, I lived in it. Why would I want to get rid of it?
I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didnât want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.
âHey, sorry bro.â
It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gymâs patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.
âHere, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.â He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasnât any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.
âJust what I needed today! Look where youâre going next time!â I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.
âHey, I said I was sorry. Didnât mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didnât even hit you that hardâŚâ
âWell sue me if I donât have time to get swoll bro,â I spat, âbut some of us have finals to study for.â
âOh dang, thatâs where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, youâre always in the front and answering shit.â Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I canât blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. Iâm genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. âHey man, are you studying for this final later? Iâm just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?â
âUhh, yeah maybe.â At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.
âHere bruh, lemme help you up,â and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. âHey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.â He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, âYou should ask inside, they may be able to help. Iâll see you later tonight.â There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.
With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking âHey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.â
âYou can bother me any time,â the attendant said with a wink, âWeâve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?â
âNo, do I look like a member with you all? Please, Iâm tired and at this point I just need to get home.â I groaned.
âWell sorry bro, youâve gotta get those gains somewhere⌠letâs see, a day pass only runs about $5,â he slid the card reader to me.
âFine.â I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.â
âEnjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those arenât the locker rooms they are the changing ro-â and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heatâŚ
I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:
Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didnât see it I wouldnât have believed it, I was a whole different man.
I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:
âWell hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?â
I just about strangled him, âWhat the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?â
âI did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.â
âWhatâs that supposed mean?â
âWell, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.â I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.
âCut the bull crap, I didnât ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.â
âSo sorry,â the apology dripped from his lips, âbut things donât quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.â
âThatâs a fucking lie,â I shouted, âYou never said shit about this. I donât need your membership. Change me back, now.â
âWoah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and Iâll calibrate it myself. Deal?â
I was about in tears, âDeal.â
He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:
âAlright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.â
This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasnât right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.
âHey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!â
He chuckled into the intercom, âWhat? I think itâs a good look on you.â
âYouâre supposed to change me back!â I shouted
âI said I would calibrate the room. I didnât say how. You should feel lucky, youâre getting the VIP treatment for free!â
Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt⌠it felt⌠oh god it felt⌠soâŚgood. But it had to be stopped. I couldnât keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didnât budge, locked from the outside.
âOh, is this not to your taste?â he teased âWell, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, letâs try this then.â
The red lights switched off as dull LEDâs took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working itâs way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. Itâs curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked itâs way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.
âWow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.â
âYou⌠wonât⌠*gasp*âŚget away⌠with⌠with this!â
âOh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.â
The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldnât escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didnât even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didnât budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.
âGod, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.â
âFuck OFFâ I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:
My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.
âHmmm,â the attendant contemplated, âI may have gone too far with the rage this time. Youâre a beast bro, but letâs reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.â
A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. Thatâs when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.
âHow are you feeling in there big guy?â a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.
âAight I guess man. Iâm tired. Guess I passed out in here,â I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.
âHave you enjoyed your day pass sir?â He asked.
âHell yeah Lilâ bro, itâs been good. This gym is stacked. I havenât felt this worn out after a workout in a while!â
âHave you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,â he said with a wink.
âMmm, wouldnât mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.â He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.
âNow remember next time, locker rooms are over there,â he smirked. âHere, this is free with your sign up.â
He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.
âThanks bro, Iâll see you tomorrow.â I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.
âHey, excuse me?â Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldnât place it. âWould you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and canât seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.â
âNah, sorry man. Iâm not quite sure Iâm able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,â thatâs when it clicked, âHey, youâre in my bio class arenât you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, Iâm never gonna pass that crap.â
He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, âYou should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.â I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. âHere, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.â
He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldnât focus on⌠whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, Iâm gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.
ââââ
Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways â¤ď¸
Big Stinky Bro @bigstinkybruh - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook