The heat of the late summer evening pressed down on Marcus like a heavy blanket. The air in his cramped apartment was still and humid. He lay across his bed, stripped down to nothing but a pair of faded yellow briefs. They were loose, standard cotton things, typical of the plain, unnoticeable life he led. Sweat pooled in the shallow hollows of his collarbone. He was scrawny, a constellation of sharp joints and pale skin, his arms thin rods holding his smartphone. He was just mindlessly scrolling through social media, a digital life that mirrored his empty social life. Girls didn't notice him, and he’d resigned himself to a life of digital voyeurism.

"Rich, seriously you need to go home." Rich sighed, meeting the worried eye of his coworker Anna, "All the other guys stayed home… as they were told." She continued to lecture him, "Don't you know…"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the news reports. But do you actually believe all that stuff? I mean, I get that it sounds nasty, but c'mon." Rich smiled, trying to mask his discomfort, "I'm a healthy guy in my prime. What are the odds it would hit me?" He adjusted his watch strap. "Besides, even if I did catch it somehow, they'd figure out a cure quick, right? This is the 21st century after all."

"Rich, seriously. Haven't you seen the news?" Anna insisted, "And not just the news! What about Jake? You heard, right?" Rich nodded slowly- he thought it was just a rumor, "Then you know. How his girlfriend found him midway through the process and…" She shuddered, "Why would you even risk that? To end up as nothing but a…"

"Woah woah, hold up! Spare me the gory details, thanks." He chuckles, a growing sense of unease building. "I'm sure Jake is fine, right? I mean…." Jake was around his age, probably just as healthy as him- always down to go to the bar after work or join the company's softball team. Rich shuddered- when was the last time he was with Jake? Was it recent?

Anna looked away, "Jake didn't make it. By the time his girlfriend got him to the hospital, the inversion was complete. There wasn't anything they could do."

"Holy shit…" he muttered under his breath, "Okay, maybe this whole staying home thing does make some sense after all." He grabbed his bag, "But what about work? I mean…"

"You can take a break for just a little Rich." Anna said, "You're always working too hard anyway."

Rich sighed, "Fine… fine, okay…" He ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, I'm gonna jet. See you when all this blows over."

"Stay safe, Rich." She smiled and watched as he headed out.

--------

Rich rushed through the city streets, his polished shoes tapping against concrete with increasing urgency. As he walked, memories flashed through his mind—beers at the bar with Matt two nights ago, gym locker room chats with Luke earlier that week. Both of them seemed fine then… hadn't they? Matt had sent him a text yesterday afternoon, something about picking up a case of beer, but nothing since. Luke had been quieter too—their usual back-and-forth banter replaced by silence. A cold pit formed in Rich's stomach. If something happened to them… he pushed the thought away, breaking into a jog toward his apartment building.

The elevator ride felt endless. When the doors finally opened on his floor, he froze. His neighbor Tom was slumped against his own doorframe, breathing heavily. "Hey… Rich," he wheezed, "you lookin' pale man. I think... I need..."

Infected. Rich swallowed hard and rushed past him, quickly entering and slamming his apartment door shut. He sunk to the floor, breathing heavily- his back against the apartment door, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. Something felt… off. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and there was an odd pressure building between his legs—not quite painful, but definitely strange.

"Just stress, just stress." He repeated to himself, "Nothing to worry about, I'm okay…"

His phone buzzed twice in rapid succession. Rich fished it from his pocket with unsteady fingers. Two notifications glared back at him—texts from both Matt and Luke. His thumb hovered over the screen before he forced himself to open them.

Matt's message came first: a selfie of a broad-shouldered jock flexing in the mirror, grinning wildly. The caption read: "Dude, check out my NEW DICK! Best upgrade EVER!!"

Luke followed immediately: another shirtless selfie, his bulge proudly displayed. "Who knew getting inverted would feel THIS good? LMAO!"

"HBU Richie?"

"Yeah bro, where you at?"

Rich's vision blurred. His stomach lurched violently, and he fell forward. The pressure between his legs intensified, spreading outward like fire.

"God it burns! Fuck!" Rich cried out, tearing his clothes away and throwing them aside, "So hot… Ice… I need ice!" He let out a moan and fell to his hands and knees, tears dripping down his cheeks, "Wh-what's… this isn't… No... Not me! I can't…" His eyes widened as he looked down at his hands, "God…"

They were changing shape, stretching and thickening. The skin becoming more weathered, coarse hairs sprouting along the backs of his hands.

"Wha…"

Rich stared in horror as his hands elongated… thickened. His fingers shrinking, becoming stubby. His palms forming dense callouses. He shook his head frantically, watching as his once smooth hands morphed into two thick, musky meaty feet. "This isn't happening… it can't be…"

Rich gagged violently, feeling something foul building up in his throat. He coughed, trying to clear it, but only managed to expel a glob of thick, salty fluid onto the floor. "What the fuck…?" He spat again, the taste making him retch.

As he knelt there, shaking, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, his gaze drifted downward. His arms were… shifting. The muscles rippling, thickening. Dark hairs sprouting along his forearms, spreading upwards towards his shoulders. His biceps and triceps ballooned, squeezing his head between the growing muscle.

"No… please no…" Rich whimpered, watching in terror as his arms lengthened, twisting and contorting. His elbows cracking and shifting into knees, wrists thickening into sturdy ankles.

Rich opened his mouth to scream, but only choked out another gag, more salty fluid oozing from his lips. He coughed and sputtered, moaning as his chest began to ripple and shift. His pecs flattened, stretching outward into a powerful set of abdominal muscles. Meanwhile, his faint six-pack consolidated, the individual abs merging together into a solid slab of rock-hard muscle, bulging outwards into a pair of thick, meaty pecs.

"Mmmphh… stop… stoppppp!" Rich tried to cry out, but the salty liquid kept pouring forth, filling his mouth and nose.

Rich's legs twitched and writhed, the muscles contracting and expanding. His calves stretched, thickening into powerful biceps. His quads rippled and merged, forming massive triceps. His shins elongated, becoming thick forearms. Even his feet shifted, toes curling inward and merging into thick, calloused hands.

A new voice, albeit soft, filled the air. "Hey there, lil dude. What's up with all the gagging, bro? You alright down there?"

Rich forced his eyes upward, struggling to focus through the haze of pain and panic. His gaze landed on a pair of thick, muscular thighs, covered in dark hair. Following them up, he saw a flat, toned stomach, rippling with every movement. His eyes traveled higher, taking in a broad, hairy chest and a smirking face with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes.

"You're looking a bit rough though, dude. You okay down there?"

Rich tried to respond, but his words came out slow and slurred. Salty fluid leaked from the corners of his mouth, which was becoming harder to move. "Mmph… mmmff.. stop… pl… pleasseee…"

His vision blurred as he watched strands of his once neatly styled hair fall away, drifting lazily to the floor. More salty liquid gushed forth, and he gagged again, feeling it fill his nasal passages. His mouth hung open, slack and unresponsive.

Suddenly, Rich felt a large, calloused hand wrap around his head and neck, gripping tightly. He gasped, trying to pull away, but the grip only tightened.

"Oh, don't worry, little buddy. I'll take care of you." The jock chuckled, giving Rich's head a firm pump. "You might not be the biggest dick in the world, but hey, size ain't everything, right? Know what I mean?"

Rich's eyes watered as he struggled to breathe, his face turning red. The jock's hand moved up and down, pumping him roughly. "Mmmm, yeah. Just relax and let me handle things, okay? I promise I know exactly how to use you right."

As the jock pumped Rich's head, he felt his facial features begin to shift and contort. His sharp jawline smoothed, his high cheekbones flattened. His lips became fixed in their new position- a vertical piss slit. Rich screamed inside as his nose and ears receded, sinking into his flesh. His entire head molding into a single, smooth surface – a bulbous cock head. His neck just a veiny shaft. And with a final pump, he felt the salty fluid surge through his entire form, erupting from his new mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah…." The new jock bellowed, falling backwards in utter bliss.

-----------

Time lost all meaning for Rich. At first, he thought the actual transformation would be the worst part - the agony, the debasement. Going from a living, breathing person with dreams to a leaking fuckstick squeezed between two massive, muscular thighs. But as days turned into weeks, he realized he was wrong. Wrong because he remained aware. Awake. Sentient within his new form. Forced to endure as the new jock lived its life, indulging in whatever pleasures he could, over and over and over again. And Rich was along for the ride. Felt every pump, every thrust as the jock used him to plow through countless holes.

Now, Rich hung limp, twitching weakly as the jock stroked him idly, gazing at the TV. The anchor spoke gravely, "Despite ongoing efforts, researchers have made no progress in finding a cure for the Inversion Virus. Scientists now believe it may be impossible to reverse the effects."

"Hear that, little buddy?" The jock grinned, pumping Rich faster. "Yeah, you like the sound of that, don't ya?" Rich felt his body growing harder, salty fluid oozing from his mouth, "I think we ought to celebrate our new, permanent arrangement, right bro?"

Hannah lounged in the worn armchair of her bedroom, knees drawn up under the heavy knit sweater that swallowed her slight frame. The room carried the faint scent of old books and chamomile tea from the mug cooling on the side table. Soft lamplight pooled across the shelves, catching on the newest addition she had brought home from the estate sale that afternoon: a small carved statue of a revolutionary soldier, its painted uniform chipped but strangely vivid. She had placed it on the shelf without much thought, drawn to its odd intensity.

Night settled deeper outside. Moonlight slid through the gap in the curtains and struck the statue full on. A low hum rose from its base, quiet at first, then swelling into a steady thrum that vibrated through the floorboards and into her bones.

Hannah turned, brow creasing. The carved eyes of the figure glowed a sudden, vivid crimson. Before she could push herself up, a thick pulse of red energy burst from those eyes and slammed into her chest, flooding every vein with searing heat.

The transformation ignited in seconds, though every shift unfolded in excruciating detail.

It began in her torso. Bones creaked and widened, ribs expanding outward with audible pops as her chest barrelled. The sweater stretched tight across shoulders that broadened dramatically, deltoids swelling into rounded slabs while traps rose thick and corded along her thickening neck. An Adam’s apple pushed forward prominently, throat bulging as vocal cords coarsened.

The wave rolled into her arms. Slim limbs convulsed, biceps surging outward in heavy peaks, triceps horseshoeing beneath skin that stretched and toughened. Forearms thickened with ropey veins, wrists enlarging, hands growing broader. Fingers lengthened, knuckles protruding, palms roughening with fresh calluses that felt earned from years of iron rather than pages.

Downward the energy surged. Her flat stomach hardened, abdominal muscles etching deep ridges before a slight layer of solid mass settled over them, the gut of a man who lifted heavy but also drank heavy. Chest hair erupted in a dense red brown mat, spreading across newly formed pectorals that had replaced any trace of breasts. The soft tissue there dissolved completely, flattening into thick slabs dusted with coarse curls that trailed downward in a widening line.

Hips cracked inward with a grinding jolt, pelvis narrowing as bone structure realigned for power rather than curve. Thighs exploded with mass, quadriceps bulging into teardrop shapes, hamstrings knotting beneath skin now covered in dark hair. Calves swelled diamond hard, ankles thickening to support the new weight. Feet stretched longer inside her socks, arches flattening, toes splaying wider as the soles toughened.

Between her legs the change was absolute. Smooth folds sealed without seam, skin puckering and descending into a heavy scrotum that filled rapidly with new testes. Above, flesh pushed outward, lengthening and thickening into a substantial penis, veins tracing its surface as foreskin formed and settled. The sensation registered only as pressure, then belonging.

Upward again, her face reshaped. Cheeks lost roundness, becoming square and rough. Jaw widened and squared, chin jutting forward into blunt prominence. Nose broadened at the bridge, brow ridge thickening. Short blonde hair darkened from the roots, strands shifting to a reddish brown tone, texture turning wiry. Stubble shadowed her skin in an instant, then lengthened into a full, thick beard, red and unkempt, framing heavier lips and a mouth that now defaulted to a faint scowl.

Skin everywhere coarsened, pores opening, a generous coat of body hair spreading across back, shoulders, arms, and legs. Height surged last, spine elongating vertebra by vertebra until she rose nearly a foot taller, the chair groaning beneath three hundred pounds of dense muscle and bulk.

All of it happened in under two minutes, yet each alteration lingered in merciless clarity.

Inside her skull, the crimson energy carried something heavier than flesh: an entire foreign lifetime.

Hannah’s thoughts flared in terror. This is wrong. I have to stop it. I’m Hannah. I read poetry on quiet evenings. I like the way this sweater feels.

But the memories came harder. Locker room laughter, the sting of shoulder pads, the roar of a stadium on Friday nights. The weight of a barbell settling across traps that could take it. Cheap beer after victory, hands of teammates slapping a broad back. A blown knee in the state championship. Scholarship gone. Years sliding by in construction yards and half empty gyms, chasing a body that would never again be twenty one.

Her own past dimmed. The library job blurred. Favorite novels lost their titles. The comfort of soft fabrics and gentle light faded against the sharper glare of fluorescent gym bulbs and the smell of chalk and sweat.

She grasped at fragments. My name is Hannah. I live alone because I like it. I don’t need crowds.

The new mind pressed deeper. Name’s DJ. Always has been. Daniel James, but nobody used the full thing after sophomore year. Star linebacker until the leg gave out. Now just another guy pushing forty, hauling rebar by day, benching heavy by night, trying to feel something close to the old rush. Glory days long gone, and every mirror reminds him.

Resistance thinned. Panic cooled into confusion, then a dull acceptance. The body felt solid, real, powerful in a way her old one never had. Why fight what fit?

Last traces of Hannah dissolved. No echo of her voice, her tastes, her quiet dreams remained.

DJ blinked heavy lids, scratching through the thick beard. He shifted his bulk, the chair creaking dangerously under the new weight. The room looked smaller now, cluttered with books he had no interest in touching. The statue on the shelf sat dull and ordinary again.

He stood slowly, joints popping, and lumbered toward the kitchen. Another night stretching ahead, same as the last hundred: protein shake, late workout, then staring at old game footage on a cracked phone screen until sleep took him. The rush never came back. The crowd never cheered again. Just the slow grind of a body past its prime and a mind that could not let the past die.

He cracked open a beer, sank onto the couch that now fit him better, and settled into the familiar ache of chasing something forever lost. Hannah was gone, erased so completely even the statue held no memory of her. Only DJ remained, heavy and alone, trapped in the long shadow of days that would never return.

I'd been couchsurfing and doing odd jobs since my parents kicked me out after I came out of the closet, when I saw a classified for a truck driving gig. I had basically zero experience outside of getting my driver's license, but figured a full time job was better than nothing, so I went for it.

I ended up getting the job. Thought it was pretty funny, since I didn't look the part - kinda incongruous having a fresh faced twink as a truck driver, right? Just look at me.

So it was my first real long haul trip solo hauling some produce interstate. I was kinda terrified of having to lease a truck or something, since there's no way I'd have a vehicle remotely suitable, but the company gave me a truck for free. I had to sign this huge contract that made me go a lil crosseyed when I tried to make sense of it. Something about being the right driver for the truck, driving safely, making some lifestyle changes - on the road, I guess? Didn't really make sense, so I skimmed through it and signed.

Anyway, not even half an hour in and I start feeling a lil hot under the collar. Not around, just... hot. Sweaty, itchy even. Keep finding myself scratching my chest, my chin, adjusting myself in the seat. Takes me a couple minutes to notice that I keep touching scruff when I rub at my face.

I usually can't grow much of a beard, and I was clean shaven to begin with. Right? I thought I was, but now I'm not sure.

Anyway, I'm feeling kinda weird, so I pull over to stretch my legs, take 5. Don't know if I'm really supposed to do that, but the company did say to take a rest if I get distracted. They'd rather I get in late over me crashing the truck falling asleep on the road.

So I still feel kinda weird, heavy, almost bloated but not quite? Doesn't really go away. So I hop back into the truck, reach for the steering wheel, and...

What the actual fuck? Since when was I buff? And when the hell did I get this tattoo?!?

I quickly flip down the little shade and eye myself up in the dinky lil mirror. I look totally different. Kinda masc, all stubbly, like a big jock instead of the twink I'm supposed to be. And I'm so sweaty!

So I keep driving, because what the hell else am i supposed to do, mind going a mile a minute, and i keep heating up. I can feel myself sweating more and more - first a little, then a lot, then enough that I can feel it dripping from my chin, down my neck, my chest, sinking into the fabric of my shirt.

When I'm on an empty stretch of road I have a look down to see the damage.

I see a stranger's body where mine should be. This body is sweating like a stuck pig, perspiring so heavily that it's soaked through the sleeveless shirt I'm wearing - hell, is that a hint of plaid I see starting to come through?

Now instead of just a jock, I'm giving more exjock. Or, like, fat jock. Strongfat? Fuck, I don't know. I look like a musclebear, is what I mean. And while I'm looking down, I can see myself swelling even bigger, and bigger. "What the fuck is happening," I say, except it rumbles out of my now-massive chest and comes out far deeper than I'm used to. "Shit, is that my voice?"

I can't spare more than a glance every few seconds or so, since I'm on the highway - there really isn't anywhere to pull over. But with every glance, I feel like I notice more details... or maybe I'm just changing more and more.

By the time I get to where I'm supposed to go, this is how I pull up.

Fuck, man. All those lifestyle changes, becoming the right driver for the truck, those things about consenting to modifying my habits as the company saw fit... it's starting to click.

Ryan sat in the sauna listening to his stomach grumbling once again.

He had been cutting just under 2 months and it was starting to become unbearable, His abs were starting to look incredible and the veins on his arms made him look like a giant however his constant grumbling stomach made him question if he even wanted to stick to it.

Once again his stomach grumbled and Ryan moaned out of discomfort.

"fuck dude, I wish I could be full and not starving all the time, just get to fucking eat"

Ryan's could feel what he thought was a large bubble rising up in his gut, he didn't know what the sensation was but, he slowly stopped feeling like he was starving and started to feel more content.

---

Later that night Ryan was sitting on his bed, he expected to feel like he was starving to death by now but nothing, if anything he felt ever so slightly bloated, as if he ate too much for breakfast.

His body dysmorphia began to creep back in as he saw his abs starting to slack, looking like when they were only just starting to show at the start of his cut.

Ryan stood up and wandered over to the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to bed. He looked in the mirror noticing a few extra pounds and it was only confirmed as he pinched the side of his waste to see his finder tips fill with a grip of bulk season fat.

"err, i swear I was leaner by now"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

A massive belch suddenly blasted out from Ryan's mouth.

---

The next morning Ryan woke up and slowly rolled out of bed, something was weird, he was feeling, stuffed, like he had eaten 3 family dinners to himself, but his mind quickly faded from those thoughts when he saw himself in the mirror.

His abs were almost entirely gone at this point, his gut and muscled were bulked up and he looked like he had taken a bear mode bulk too far for over a year.

"What the fuck, how come I'm getting bigger, Ive hardly eaten anything!" Ryan's gut let out a loud grumble and his grabbed it with both hands gritting his teeth. His stomach slowly started to expand and his barely visible abs completely disappeared under his muscle gut. His muscles slowly got bigger and bigger too, although covered in a slight layer of winter weight. a pound of muscle for half a pound of fat. Bigger and bigger, Ryan had no idea what was happening to him, he wanted it to stop, months of work to see his abs again vanished in an instant.

By the end of it, he was a giant beast, you still knew he was a bodybuilder but it looked like he was on the ass end of a 3 year bulk.

He felt so heavy, he was the biggest he had ever been. You could still see his powerful muscles and core underneath the bearish meat and the moment he flexed there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was a bodybuilder, even his abs powerfully poked out on the sides.

Ryan groaned as he rubbed his stomach, feeling totally stuffed. As he walked across the room to get a closer look his his new bigger body in the mirror he couldn't help but grab a protein bar from the box on top of his dresser and start eating it.

He flexed in the mirror, unable to even process he was chowing down on his 2nd protein bar within 50 seconds, all he really knew was he was big, and was so full he thought he'd never need to eat again.

As he swallowed another mouthful of double choc protein he felt it struggle to get to his stomach, like he was too full for anything.

"fuck, wish I could get rid of some of this pressure"

-uuuurrppp

Ryan chuckled, at the perfect timing of his words when he suddenly let out another ridiculous belch.

"uughh"

Ryan stumbled backwards sitting on his bed leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked up at the mirror and his mouth cocked open UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP!!!

a titanic belch echoed out of Ryan's mouth.

"fuck" he muttered as he mindlessly bit off another chunk of the chewy protein bar. Almost the instant he swallowed he let out another beast like burp.

---

That is sooo refreshing! Funny I never heard about that lake before. This big guy in the bar was so sweet telling me about it

Love it, look how clean the water is. I just hope there are no actual bears here, haha

Aehm ... wow?

What in Winnie the Poos name is going on here?

Guess there ARE bears here NOW

Come on! Go in, the water is so cool!

Let me go!!

I hate you! I am coming out NOW!

Oh shit ...

is this a BELLY?! I am TWINK

Help? Or ... not? Feels ... funny ...

Mmh, grrr? Heheeh

Come in, Fred! It is lovely!

Leave me alone, Freak!

If I turn into a bear, I swear, I wil ... wait, is that chest hair??

I will kill you, I swear!!!

345lb Eiren Gauley working the chest with the cutest client. 🤤

Almost busted a load multiple times while watching this YT vid. The pecs, the gut, the low cut tanks… 😮‍💨

Like look at this chesty himbo 😍 (No ID on this guy.)

The full video is worth a watch:

- These damn witches… - Adam’s case -

“Adam, we can’t… keep on like this…” Henry muttered with a shiver as Adam’s big weatherbeaten hands rubbed against his smooth thighs.

“But H… I’m… so horny…”

“Remember… that bitch casted you a curse… we’ve gotta find a way to stop it before it gets too much out of hand…”

“But… don’t you like me being… bigger? Haven’t you told me you were a bit of a size queen?”

(Community Requested Story, about me perma bulking) What's good bros! It's your favourite wish granting genie here to go on my own transformation journey. Normally I send this kind of thing off to another writer but a lot of you wanted me to be transformation using my own Genie gifts so I've waved my hands and started it off.

I made sure to completely forget about what you guys wanted for me to make it even more surprising but considering all you lot drool at a bicep vein I think I'm in good hands.

After waking up I definitely didn't have anything to worry about. I knew all of you just wanted me to become some big sweaty himbo. Just take a look.

Big arms, thick thighs and a solid chest. I won't lie if I were to make a choice I would of ended up so much bigger than this but hey, it's what you all wanted to I guess I gotta get used to being a himbo stud.

Woah...I guess day two was a little different. I'm a lot bigger ladz so cheers for that but damn, some of this definition is starting to fade. It looks like I'm sliding more to the tank side of the spectrum that the stud side. I'm pretty sure if I move wrong this tank is gonna split in too and my fucking stomach won't stop rumbling, every time I walk in my kitchen I down half a box of cereal, fuck, I should probably take a couple sandwiches back to my desk before I load up some games with the boys.

'BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPP'

aw fuck, sorry about that ladz but damn. I woke up this morning and my stomach feels so tight, it feels like my abs are about to split in half. My shorts are so tight around my ass.

Damn what the fuck did you guys wish to happen to me? A slab of muscle instead of abs is one thing but fuck my gut is so bloated, ah man

'UURRRRRRRRRRPP!!!'

whoops, sorry dudes, fuck this is so tight but I still feel hungry, maybe a protein shake and a bowl of rice wont gut, surely this can't get any tighter.

ahhh fuck what time is it? 3am?? why the fuck am I so hungry. I didn't even know it was possible to feel hungry and bloated at the same-

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP

ah man, what do I have in the fridge, mmmmm half a pizza, well I'm sure a couple of slices won't hurt. I hit the gym pretty hard today, its probably my body wanting to fuel up. mmm yeah just 3 maybe 6 slices and I'll be good for the night, probably best to turn the light switch on so I don't make a mess...

w--what the fuck happened to me! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I'M SO FUCKING BULKY, OH FUCK

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPP

DAMN....fuck well....at least it doesn't jiggle, probably just bloated from how much I've been eating recently, who knew having such big muscles would make me so hungry all the time...

hmmm, I probably shouldn't leave just 3 slices of pizza in the fridge on their, own, that's not even a snack, 9 slices is alright at this time of night yeah?

On the bright side, my muscles have continued to blow up to freakish size, my bicep is bigger than most dude's heads. On the other hand....I can't shift this tank around my mid section. I've been trying to eat less to get my abs back but fuck I can't help it, my stomach growls and I gotta eat enough to feed at least 3 people or else it feels like my stomach is gonna eat itself. It's okay, Ill just cut when summer rolls around, use this time to grow as big as I can, bet my abs will look fucking insane in a few months/

Guess the bright side is I can order that nice chocolate cake with my pizza tonight...I'm pretty sure it's cheat night tonight, or was it last night? hmm, no yeah it is definitely tonight?

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

ah fuck, wh- UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

what happened - uurp - to me?

a few *hic* days ago I was a lean mean lifting machine

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPP

and now...fuck *hic* uuurp- I'm a big, bulky brute

fuu-UUUUUUUURPPPP-ck, my gut is so tight, moving feels like a chore....I'm so fuckin stuffed and hungry at the same time. Who knew my fans would want me to blow up into a 300lsb bulky beast...

damn...I need a shower but, I could really go for a double cheese burger and a snickers protein thick shake, I'm sure it can wait -uuurrpp- maybe I should grab a couple protein bars for the road..

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!!

The deep groans were coming from his room. The door was left slightly ajar, and Seth could hear someone cursing under their breath. As he got closer, he recognized the wet sound of lotion on skin and the slapping sounds of heated sex.

“What the f—“

Laying on his bed was a tall man, one of the best looking he’s ever seen, flexing and desperately jerking off. His eyes were rolled back into his head and it seemed like his hands were touching anything possible. Each time they brushed along his body a shiver would travel and he’d get closer to climaxing.

“Who are you?”

The jock looked at him in shock, covering his rock hard penis with both hands and stood up. “Fuck, sorry man. Seth, it’s me!”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” Seth yelled, “I’m calling the police!”

“No man, wait! It’s me, Jared.”

“Fuck off, dude.”

“No I can prove it!” He began rattling off details about their friendship, his family, even what he ate yesterday.

“J-Jared? What happened to you?”

“I can’t explain right now, just shake my hand and say yes you’ll swap.”

“What? I’m not shaking your hand.”

“Just do it! Please! Fuck, dude.” He released one of the hands covering his sizable cock, giving Seth a glimpse at the hard rod buried in a perfect bush of hair. His eyes glazed over and he smirked. “Sniff my pits bro,” he grabbed his head and smashed it into one of his pits.

Seth’s cock hardened as he breathed in the sweat of the huge man in front of him. “Knock it off!” He yelled. “Fine!” He took out his hand. “I’ll swap!”

Jared grasped his smaller hand in his large one, and Seth felt a heat rise in his chest. It traveled up his throat until he felt it burst out of his mouth. Across from him, the strange man felt the same. Smoke exited both their mouths and Seth’s consciousness slipped from his body. Suddenly, he was in the air, staring down at himself.

A second later, he rushed toward the open mouth across from him. Smoke poured in and he felt himself come back down. He gained control of new limbs, and when it was over, he stared at himself.

He staggered away from his own body. Staring down, his mouth gaped in disbelief. He switched bodies!

His new body was bound in muscle, he gingerly touched the hair on his chest, so used to being skinny and hairless. The feeling of his fingertips was strange and sensitive, like his nerve endings were twice as sensitive as before.

“Thank god,” he heard his own voice say.

“What did you do?!” He was shocked at the booming bass of his voice.

“I’m sorry, I needed to get out of there.” Jared shook his head. “I’ll explain. I was at the gym showering and this man, your current body, came up to me. I thought he was looking for a good time since he had a full on boner, but he was crazy in the eyes. He begged me to swap with him, and I didn’t say no! Look at him! But he stole my body leaving me in his. It’s cursed. I spent a few hours in it and I had to jerk off every 10 minutes.”

“So this guy is walking around in your body?”

“Yes! I didn’t know what to do so I came to you for help, sorry I made I mess waiting. I could barely think as him so I had to swap to explain. Thanks for the break.” His arms patted down his friend’s skinny body, admiring it.

“Shit, look at me,” Seth breathed. His fingers grasped at his furry pecs, he flexed an arm and watched the muscle bounce, it revealed a hairy bush underneath, drenched in sweat. His attention looked downwards automatically, drawn to the hard cock swinging between his legs.

It was glorious, 10 inches, girthy and tan, the head leaking desperately with the need to release. Surrounding it was the bush he had seen earlier, dark brown and so dense, sweaty too. Except now it was attached to him. His own body had wisps, where this one had pubes to spare.

In the mirror, he turned his attention to his new back and ass. It was muscular and defined, and his ass consisted of two big beach ball buns covered in thick hair. He spanked them jokingly, but the sensation made him buck over in pleasure. Against his will, he turned and spread his hairy ass in the mirror, examining his jock hole, before shoving his fingers between the deep crack to massage it.

The sensation brought tears to his eyes. “Fuckkkk, this is so gay. Bro, please switch me back. I’m gonna cum!”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I can’t do that. Go find someone else to take that thing.”

Seth sat down on his muscular butt and began jerking his cock, he marveled at how hard it was, the heat coming off of it was intense.

“Fuckkkkk,” he lifted a bicep and licked along his arm, getting a whiff of the jock scent that drifted from his hairy manly pits. HIS pits. “I’m such a man…this body…”

Jared watched his friend touch every inch of his new body and couldn’t help but get hard himself. “Fuck…Seth. Are you gay? I’m turned on….”

“I’m bi….” He moaned.

They stared at each other a moment, then Jared stripped off his clothing to stand naked in Seth’s body, his smaller but respectable cock also hard.

Seth rutted like an animal against the mattress,

He turned his buns toward his friend. “Fuck me, please,” he gasped.

“Fuck, you want me to fuck you?”

“Please, I think I need it…” he wiggled his hairy globes more. Jared sat transfixed, his new bi body gravitated towards the jock’s sweaty hairy ass. In no time, he spread the cheeks and lapped at his hole.

“You’re so sexy…” Jared gasped, drowning between his friend’s sweaty ass cheeks.

Seth grunted like a beast as he got his ass eaten, he barely had time to register that Jared had lined up his skinny cock to his hole.

He gasped when his tight hole was penetrated. Jared gripped around his massive back to get a better purchase as he fucked his best friend. It was euphoric, seeing his new skinny body fuck the beast below him. In minutes, the room was hot and smelled like an old locker room, thanks to Seth.

The first time Seth came, they had flipped and faced each other. Jared watched his friend’s hairy pecs bounce up and down as his balls slapped his ass rhythmically. Seth had spit in his hand and was furiously hand-fucking his big rod, and his eyes crossed as he shot 7 ropes of hot cum all over his meaty torso.

They fucked for hours, the big jock’s body cumming over and over like a fountain.

That evening, Jared dismounted from Seth who was panting heavily. He was exhausted from fucking this jock for hours on end and headed for the shower.

He couldn’t bring himself to even jerk off again, his new skinny cock was so spent. Seth was the opposite.

When he returned to the room, he saw Seth on his ass again on the floor, both hands wrapped and rotating around his cock.

“We gotta get you out of there, man.” Jared sighed.

“Please, I’m so tired. I’m so fucking horny. Get me someone to swap with…” he groaned, another jet of jock cum spraying across his abs.

“We will, buddy, hang tight.”

Just then, the front door opened. “I’m home!” called Seth’s father, home from work.

what's up bros

to make this blog a bit more accessible, this is gonna be an index of all of my stories and other stuff connected with me, neatly divided into themes

everything's under this pic of a hot stud

Jock TF

Todd goes to a gym / Academic requirements / A Son, Reformed / Muscles In Chains / The Rookie's Figuring It Out / Headphones In, Guns Out / Waiting For The Roommate / Mandatory PE Class / A Real Jock's Supposed to Be Dumb /

Jock-focused

Under Armour Jock™ / Coach's Process of Developing a Jock / More Loyal, More American, More The Same / Muscle Memory / Inside A Jock's Mind / Script For A Jock / No-Trade Clause /

Cop/Soldier reprogramming

Programming Adjustment / Law, Order and Musk / Personal Muscle, Uniform Included / A Guard Programmed To Control And Obey /

Gym Bro TF (and adjacent)

Gym Bro / Bro Advice / A Workout Break / This Is How You Recruit Gym Bros / Waking Up Huge And Jocked / Empty Eyes, Pumped Bis / The Grindset / Big Bro's Job /

Other stuff

Commissions - I am open for commissions. Want me to write you a story? Check the linked post for all the necessary details

#AMA - you can see all the questions I have answered from previous AMAs under this hashtag

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”