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Currently editing what is sure to be my longest tf story yet so I wanted to make a little post over here to celebrate! Love a good aggregate post, so with no further ado here are my ten longest and shortest stories!

Occam's Longest:

All The World’s A Ring - ~10k

Journalistic Integrity - 7.7k

In The Rink - 7.1k

Under New Management - 7k

Talismen IV: Deliverer - 6.6k

Waiting For Byron - 6.5k

Talismen V: World Peace - 5.8k

Zero To Hero - 5.7k

Talismen III: Sorry For The Backwash -5.7k 

Queering The Ring -5.7k

Occam's Shortest:

Team Needed A Coach - 800

Topping Off - 900

Should’ve Worn Green - 1.1k

Ugh, I Hate Bongs - 1.2k

No Need To Pledge, Just Drink - 1.3k

Legacies Are Supposed To Change - 1.3k

In The Zone - 1.4k

Knight of Swords - 1.5k

Herbal T -1.5k

Terracotta Turmoil - 1.5k

It's a good selection of my catalogue!

Multi-tf stories make up the bulk of my longest list, including my sole FTM and Inanimate Tfs, and pointedly shorter Frat Tfs fill my shortest list. Of which I've got an experiment in shorter captions coming!

Anything here or otherwise that you'd like to see more of?

Love the question, anon!

First, time to ✨overshare✨

Y’all remember when I had that basically year-long absence from here lol? Well a partial reason for that my longest relationship came to a train collision end. It was was one of those breakups that leave you disinterested in pretty much everything—socializing, writing, exercising, eating, breathing, whatever. So yeah I spent a lot of this year just wallowing and letting the depression swallow me whole, but hey, that’s why a solid 80% of the music industry is built off sad heartbreaky shit!! It took a lot but I’m fine now, lots of growth through pain, channeling Alanis Morissette, building back habits that made me happy and healthy, yadda yadda yadda. Anyways…

So let’s just say I’m *contentedly* single now! Turns out that, thank you Gloria, I will survive.

But now to the meat of your question!

There have been more partners that I’ve shared this kink than there haven’t been! You can tell who’s down to hear about it based off how spicy or vanilla (no hate, lovely flavor, it’s just basic lol) their preferences are from the jump. Generally if someone speaks openly about their own kinks, they’re willing to at least hear about this one! No guarantee that they’ll share the kink, but when they have a sophisticated understanding of kink and its role in better sex, they’re not gonna like judge you over it. At least that’s my experience.

Anon, if these guys only KNEW what they were offering when they ask to “explore” the kink 😅 I said this in another ask, but the goddamned limits of physics and human anatomy unfortunately make it impossible to “explore” the kink in a way that I would really want to lol. Some partners have played along in dirty texts and whatnot, and stars on the board for them for doing so, but that’s the extent of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That being said, the vanilla guys will still treat you right, but I’ve always figured that they’re gonna be (intimidated? confused? weirded out? idk) let’s say not receptive of the kink if they hear about it. Which is fine!! I’m sure deep down they’re not as vanilla as they make themselves out to be, but that’s their journey 🍃

BUT I have found in my experiences that you can gauge others’ interest in this just from their openness about their own kinks. There are a few that I can share, not to say that this is 100% gospel guaranteed to be the case, I can only speak for myself.

Some of my findings:

Guys who are into worship will have an interest in the muscle growth kink for sure. The jocks I’ve been lucky enough to bag have all been into worship for sure (I’m usually the one asking to do it, but they’re wholly into it when I ask, almost like they were hoping I’d ask lol). It makes sense that they’d be into muscle growth kink, but when I’ve talked to them about the rapid, sudden, impossibly huge version of muscle growth, they’re deeply into that, too. They’re also the most willing to dirty text along those lines when that ice is broken through lol, blame it on the ego.

I really do not know why this is the case, but I find that mostly non-USAmericans are into this kink too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ At least the partners who have been the *most* receptive to it and willing to explore it the most are not from the states! That isn’t non-English-speaking either, plenty of Brits, Aussies, Canucks, etc. have expressed interest too! My largest sample size is with Latino men, and easily 9 times out of 10 they’re going to be into it. PLEASE give me an explanation if you can think of one, because I’ve been wondering the same for ages.

Furries—love you guys, y’all don’t hear that enough lol—will almost always be into this, like at a 98% rate. I think a lot of aspects of this kink and their own go hand-in-hand. In fact, I think we can all agree here that the porn that most aligns with this kink—the massive growth, transformation, impossible proportions, etc.—is mostly generated by our Furry brothers in arms out there lmao. But yeah, guys who have asked if they can fuck with part of their suit on have ZERO qualms with chatting about this kink A LOT lol.

Those with some kind of body dysmorphia (ayyye gang gang y’all sound off lmao) will *eventually* find their way to this kink. For those with it, there’s really something to be said about having the ability to possess, or slip up into, or morph into, or beef ourselves up into, or change into anyone at any point at anytime. To me—to me, this is just what I can speak to, if this blog and its contents make you feel worse in your body dysmorphia, then please, with love, just abandon my page 🩶—exploring this kind of kink has actually helped in that regard. Like I know it’s impossible for me to no longer be me in my current corporeal form, but damn it feels kinda nice to bring that kind of fantasy to life through the written word even if it can’t be irl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It helps to juice the lemon at least iykwim lol. In fact, I’ve gotten to the point now—thanks in part to having my heart trampled on by wild horses—where I’ve figured, ‘Y’know what? Why not just live this?’ and have poured myself into healthier routines in the past year or so. I’m seeing the inside of a gym way more than I used to at least. Which brings me to my final point…

There is a **massive** community of guys online that are into fitness, body building, general muscle growth, etc. that loooove this kind of kink. I’m talking like dozens and dozens of forums consisting of thousands of members each. While I’ve been exploring these communities looking for tips and recommendations for getting back into some kind of regular lifting routine, they’ve been quick to encourage me based along these kind of kink lines. Many of these communities have separate chat rooms about exploring this kind of kink too! I s2g there have been like 15 separate instances where I’ve been able to drop ‘Yeah I’m transformhim on tumblr 🤪’ and they’ve been super appreciative and have passed along other recommendations for similar kink content lol.

This is all to say, I think the amount of people who are into this kind of content is larger than you’d imagine, and the people who aren’t aware of it find something within it that gets their dicks hard when you’re open about it :)

Inspired by @reddarkfox222

At 4:13 p.m., Andrew almost walked away.

The campus recreation center was loud with clanking plates and bursts of laughter, fluorescent lights reflecting off polished floors. He stood just inside the weight room, long limbs tucked in awkwardly, fingers hooked in the straps of his backpack. At twenty, he still carried that almost-finished look—1.84 meters of lean, wiry potential. Seventy-two kilograms distributed in narrow shoulders and subtle lines that suggested muscle without declaring it. Smooth skin, hairless chest. Short, neat dark hair. A clean-cut face that could still pass for seventeen on a good day.

He looked like a university student because he was one.

“Ten minutes,” the trainer had said earlier at the campus event, flashing a grin that seemed a little too white, a little too confident. “Quick circuit. Free session. You’ll feel amazing.”

Against his better judgment, Andrew had agreed.

Now the trainer stood in front of him again, bigger than Andrew remembered. Broad chest stretching a maroon stringer tank. Shoulders round and capped. Veins like raised cords along his forearms. A beard framing a grin that suggested he knew something Andrew didn’t.

“Ready, Andrew?” the trainer asked.

“Sure,” Andrew replied, voice clear, light. “Ten minutes, right? I’ve got a study group at five.”

The trainer’s grin widened. “Ten minutes.”

Andrew glanced at the digital clock mounted above the squat racks.

4:13.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

The circuit began.

Burpees. Pull-ups. Kettlebell swings. Push presses. Sled pushes across rubber flooring that bit into his sneakers. The trainer moved beside him with effortless power, barking out reps in a low, steady cadence.

“Chest up. Drive through the heels. Breathe, Andrew.”

Within three minutes, sweat slicked his smooth torso. His lungs burned. His arms trembled as he struggled through pull-ups he hadn’t realized would be this hard.

“Didn’t expect it to be easy, did you?” the trainer said, smirking.

Andrew shot him a tight grin between breaths. “You said quick. Not sadistic.”

The trainer laughed.

By minute eight, Andrew’s shirt clung to him, outlining the faint ridges of muscle beneath. His voice cracked slightly when he counted his own reps. His heart hammered so hard it blurred the edges of his vision.

“Two more rounds,” the trainer said.

“Two?” Andrew gasped. “You said—”

“Ten minutes.”

The final sled push left Andrew bent over, palms on knees, sweat dripping from his chin onto the rubber mat. His entire body buzzed. He straightened slowly and glanced up at the clock.

4:13.

He blinked.

The seconds display hadn’t changed.

“That’s…” He swallowed. “The Hell...”

The trainer stood upright, fresh. Not even winded. “Ready to start?”

“Start?” Andrew frowned. “We just-”

The trainer clapped once. “Ten minutes. Quick circuit.”

A chill slid down Andrew’s spine.

“I... bro we already did it.”

The trainer tilted his head. “Did what?”

Andrew opened his mouth to argue.

Nothing came out.

His throat tightened. His protest evaporated like mist in sunlight. His feet moved on their own, stepping back to the starting position.

“Chest up,” the trainer said calmly.

And Andrew began again.

The second circuit felt worse. Or maybe better. His body moved more efficiently, as if it remembered something his mind didn’t. His burpees were sharper. His pull-ups smoother. His skin flushed darker, muscles swelling under the strain.

He risked another glance at the clock.

4:13.

Panic fluttered in his chest.

“This isn’t funny,” he managed, but the words felt distant, muffled behind cotton.

The trainer only smiled. “Drive through your heels.”

Again.

And again.

And again.

Time became elastic.

Sweat poured down Andrew’s chest in rivulets, tracing lines over skin that was no longer quite so smooth.

Fine, dark hairs began to prickle across his arms, then his chest. His shoulders broadened subtly with each repetition, deltoids rounding, striations teasing into existence like pencil lines darkening into ink.

He tried to focus on the changes.

His biceps felt fuller. He watched, mid-curl, as veins pushed up beneath the surface like rivers carving through earth. His once-slender wrists thickened. His grip tightened around the kettlebell, forearms corded and hard.

The trainer leaned close. “We're just giving your body the stimulus for growth it needs.”

The word echoed.

Stimulus.

Another circuit.

His chest swelled, pectorals pressing against damp fabric until the shirt felt too small. His traps rose, creeping up his neck. His collarbones vanished beneath new mass. Sweat soaked him, dripping from a torso that was no longer boyish but carved, dense.

His breathing deepened.

His voice followed.

“Load it up,” he heard himself say at one point, startled by the lower register that rolled from his throat.

The trainer arched a brow. “Feeling confident?”

Andrew smirked

an expression that felt foreign and perfectly natural all at once. “You call this a workout?”

His reflection in the mirrored wall startled him.

His face was sharper now. Jaw thicker. Stubble shadowing his cheeks. His hair seemed darker, slightly longer on top, pushed back carelessly. His eyes held something new—something predatory.

No.

That wasn’t right.

He had always looked like this.

Of course he had.

Another circuit.

His thighs filled out his shorts, quadriceps splitting with visible lines each time he dropped into a squat.

Glutes tightened and lifted with sled drives that now looked effortless. His shoulders ballooned wider, stretching seams.

His Memories frayed.

Lecture halls blurred into weight rooms. Study groups dissolved into posing sessions under stage lights. He tried to remember his major.

What was he studying?

Did it matter?

“Come on, Andrew,” the trainer urged. “You’re built for this.”

Built for this.

Each repetition pressed that idea deeper into him. His old self became thin and distant, like a childhood dream half-remembered.

At some point, he stopped checking the clock.

He started enjoying it.

Sweat gleamed across a chest now covered in dark hair and bold inked lines of tattoos that hadn’t existed before—wings stretching across pecs thick as armor. His arms swelled monstrously with each pump, veins branching like lightning beneath bronzed skin.

He caught his reflection again and grinned.

“Damn,” he muttered appreciatively. “Looking thick.”

The trainer laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

Circuits blurred into hundreds. Hundreds into something beyond counting.

His voice was rich now, edged with gravel. His laughter deeper. His posture instinctively dominant. He moved through the workout like a machine.

No longer remembered being shy.

He didn’t remember hesitating, with anything

He didn’t remember 72 kilograms of uncertainty wrapped in smooth skin.

That was just a dream.

This was the final version.

Finally, the trainer clapped.

“Time.”

Andrew wiped sweat from his brow with a thick forearm, chest heaving—but not from exhaustion. From exhilaration.

He glanced at the clock.

4:23.

Ten minutes.

Exactly.

He rolled his shoulders, admiring the way muscle shifted under skin. “Solid warm-up.”

The trainer stepped closer, eyeing him up and down with approval. “You ever think about working here?”

Andrew barked a laugh. “Working here? I basically own the place already.”

The trainer nodded slowly. “You’d be a perfect fit. We need guys with your… presence.”

Andrew smirked, adjusting the straps of his tank, which clung to a torso thick with power. “Yeah. Guess I’ve always belonged in a place like this.”

There was no flicker of doubt. No ghost of a university student standing awkwardly at 4:13.

Only Andrew - broad, bearded, confident. A cocky bodybuilder with sweat still dripping from a physique that looked carved from iron.

He extended a massive hand.

“So when do I start?”

*****

Do-yun Choi was squatting, adjusting his bulge ready to get to work as he watched people pass by the restaurant. He hadn’t walked into this place the stud he was now, but curiosity and all that.

Just an average college student trying to make the most out of the one day he could afford to get away from his studies. Not like he had any friends to spend it with. One of the annoying things about going to a small community college in your hometown was no chance to reinvent yourself. The local jocks had destroyed his reputation and others by deeming them as losers. Once you were an outcast in a small town, life was over, but the others were lucky to get away. Do-yun had to stay and deal with the ramifications, even going to school with some of those very same jocks.

Like the brunette and blonde terrors, Daniel Gibbons and Greg McFielder. A footballer and wrestler who tag teamed on their bullying growing up. All their dads hung out together doing stuff at golf courses or whatever. Both bulky boys who would sequester Do-yun by brawn alone, trap him in between their bodies, sometimes even crush him, and never in a fun way. On campus these days, they had outgrown the physical violence, and preferred to just talk shit, or shoot Do-yun annoyed looks if they passed by him.

Going to eat was more of a treat to himself, in spite of them. Do-yun would bite the bullet and risk passing by those lingering jocks or even their parents, hearing snickers or being eyed at. To put it in laymen’s terms, Do-yun had a sneaking suspicion when it came to him what people really didn’t like was…his ‘culture’.  Yeah, that was the nice way to say it. The town itself was plain and boring. The status quo was king here. Never two prom kings, definitely not prom queens. It didn't matter if the best hometown players were black or brown they were never the captains and certainly not winning MVP when the season was over. Hegemony swallowed everything and forced people to conform and never question it.

Do-yun only allowed those reflective thoughts to pass his mind when he walked down the food strip, eyes scanning the typical McDonalds, Burger King, quick runs. Better than thinking about Marine biology. He may have loved it, but he refused to let his major have his free time as well. Besides, the collection of fast-food chains hammered home how samey the town was becoming. Do-yun’s stomach grumbled. He really didn’t want to do another late-night golden arches meal. He needed to actually sit down and get something good in his system. He deserved that much. For some reason he continued walking. Lord knows why. He already knew the chains in town; they had barely changed since he was little. This was the town and would always be the town.

The wind blew past his ear, as he heard a jingle. A wind chime. Do-yun turned on his feet, there were no wind chimes on the block. 19 years of his life in the town no freaking way. The old people were allergic to whimsical and fun things.  Turned in a new direction, Do-yun spotted a place he hadn’t seen before. A restaurant nestled into the strip he had walked by. Blink and miss it spot. Do-yun walked up to posters on the windows with food items, but more importantly cheap prices. The lights were on, so he wasted no time stepping in.

Ryu was riding in a taxi from the train station to his parents' house. Moments earlier, he had received a text informing him that he had been rejected for yet another job. Even though the position had been well below what someone with his master's degree should have aimed for, the world had proven itself merciless once again. His thoughts spiraled. What exactly was he missing? The list grew longer and longer. A lack of work experience. A degree in a field with little practical demand. Then his thoughts turned inward—to his short stature, his unimpressive physique softened by more body fat than muscle, his poor eyesight, and even his timid personality.

The taxi driver suddenly spoke.

"Looks like you've had a rough day."

Ryu sighed.

"Today's just one of those days."

The driver smiled in a way that Ryu couldn't quite decipher.

"Well, good days always come eventually. Human potential is limitless, isn't it?"

Ryu let out a cynical chuckle.

"Apparently not mine."

The driver asked an odd question.

"Life is all about give and take. If you paid with everything you've accomplished so far... don't you think you might receive what you've always wanted?"

Ryu shrugged bitterly.

"I don't even know what I have anymore. But if someone could give me what I want in exchange... I'd gladly hand over everything."

At that moment, the world turned upside down.

The taxi was still moving. A strange sensation swept over him before an unbearable agony exploded throughout his body. His head felt as though it were splitting apart, while every muscle and bone seemed ready to burst.

He screamed.

"Can you... please take me to the nearest hospital?!"

Without saying a word, the driver quietly changed course. Ryu continued screaming—until darkness swallowed his consciousness.

Yet, from the outside, he didn't appear unconscious. Instead, something new was awakening within him.

His body began to change. Muscles swelled beneath his skin as excess body fat melted away. His dress shirt stretched to its limits, threatening to tear apart. His glasses vanished. His eyes grew larger. His brow ridge became more pronounced, reshaping his face into something sharper and more sculpted. His jaw broadened into a firm, masculine line, while both his hair and beard grew rapidly. Then his own hands roughly tore open the buttons of his shirt. Powerful pectoral muscles and a sharply defined six-pack emerged into view. Somewhere, a voice echoed through the void. "Look at that, finally mine." And with those words, another consciousness began dissolving into his own.

Ryu opened his eyes. Chaos erupted inside his mind. One set of memories belonged to the frail, nerdy graduate student who had spent countless sleepless nights earning his degree and desperately trying to transform his body through relentless workouts. The other belonged to a man blessed with extraordinary looks and overwhelming charisma—a natural leader who had always stood at the center of attention throughout university, climbing effortlessly toward success and power. The two identities collided. The charismatic one prevailed. The nerd's memories shattered into countless fragments before fading into nothingness. Eventually, the taxi came to a stop.

The driver spoke.

"We've arrived home, Mr. CEO."

Sure, I get all the boring paperwork, all the terrible shifts, and somehow every job nobody else wants. But this time it landed me a pretty unusual opportunity.

For the past few months, there’ve been reports of suspicious activity surrounding a fraternity on campus. A few disappearances. Rumors about a new designer drug making its way through the student population. Nothing concrete, but enough to get my lieutenant interested.

So naturally, someone in the department watched way too many undercover cop movies and decided the best solution was to send me in.

Apparently I still look young enough to pass for a college student.

Lucky me.

I’ve been undercover for almost three weeks now, and honestly? I’m starting to think my lieutenant got it completely wrong.

These guys don’t seem like criminals.

They’re loud. They’re immature. They’re obsessed with parties, the gym, and finding excuses to put their hands on literally anyone willing to tolerate them for more than five seconds.

Meanwhile I’m over here trying to remember I’m a police officer and not lose sight of why I came.

But being reckless, horny, and terminally allergic to responsibility doesn’t automatically make someone a criminal.

So far I’ve found nothing.

No drugs.

No trafficking.

No evidence connecting them to any disappearances.

Nothing.

I’m about ready to file my report and tell my lieutenant this whole thing was a waste of department resources.

Still…

Tomorrow night the fraternity is throwing one of their biggest parties of the semester.

Before I close the book on this investigation, I’m going to take one last look around the house while everyone is distracted.

Just to be thorough.

Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

After all, it would be pretty embarrassing to tell my lieutenant he was wrong…

…and then discover he was right.

I remember the day I joined the force. Dad was a cop. My older brothers were cops. But earning that badge mattered more. Academy, field training, endless exams... it took years. So when I finally pinned that shield to my chest, I thought people would finally see me as an officer. Instead I got:

"Damn, kid, just get outta middle school?"

"You ever think about growin' a beard? If you can..."

"You're twenty-seven? No way."

It never stopped. But it did come in handy for my assignment. Lieutenant James had slid a stack of files across his desk.

"Missing persons. Every one of 'em has ties to the same fraternity." Dr. Richard Peters. Christopher Saint. Paul Monroe. Different backgrounds, same house, then they vanished. "We think there's a new designer drug involved," the lieutenant said. "Brothers keep talking about being addicted, needing more, not being able to leave."

"So you want me undercover."

"You still pass for a student. Don't disappoint me."

So Officer Andrew Miller disappeared. Tyler took his place. Tyler was twenty-one, undeclared, and incapable of owning sleeves. I'd spent department time learning beer pong and fantasy football. The lieutenant's advice was simple: act young, act dumb, make friends.

Luke made the last two surprisingly easy. That first night he walked over, threw an arm around my shoulders, handed me a beer, and twenty minutes later had me doing a keg stand while everyone screamed my fake name. And you know what? I had fun. Luke wasn't secretive. Gym, food runs, parties... if I skipped an event to organize notes, he'd text asking where I'd gone. He never asked me to prove myself. He just included me.

"You'll get it," Richie told me while lifting. "Luke figures out what you need."

"What'd he figure out for you?"

"Needed to stop givin' so many fucks."

Everyone said the same. Luke gave them confidence, stopped their worrying, made them happy. Nobody knew how. And somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending every conversation was just work. One late night outside, he stared into the backyard. "Everybody wants something from me."

"That's depressing."

"I'm serious. They come here wantin' a better body, more friends, less stress."

"And you fix it?"

"Sometimes." He grew quite, "What about you? What do you want?"

"Nothin'," I lied. "Just wanted to see what you guys are about."

Luke studied me, smiling. "That's it?"

"That's it."

I didn't know it then, but that answer meant everything to him. For two weeks Luke trusted me more than anyone. By the end of the third week, he had me pledge. But by that time, I'd decided the investigation had gone nowhere. Friday night's party would be my last look before filing my report.

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

Pushing open the front door, I realized I'd actually miss the place. Mostly Luke. But instead of the warm greeting from the guys like I was expecting, I got cold indifference.

"Luke wants you upstairs," Chris said, avoiding my eye.

"Everything okay?"

"Go ask him."

I climbed the stairs and pushed open Luke's door, where I found him sprawled shirtless across the leather couch, backward cap over his dark hair, staring at me with hurt eyes.

"Everything good?"

Luke sat up. "Close the door, bro."

"Luke..."

"Close it all the way." He stopped, "Officer Miller."

My hand was on the doorknob, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Luke laughed bitterly, standing up. "A fucking cop? Bro, I did a keg stand with you! You held my ankles! Two weeks ago I puked behind a Wendy's and you rubbed my back!"

"Luke, listen..."

"I bought you a Baconator!" He buried his head in his hands. "Fuck, bro! What the fuck?!"

"People are missing..."

"No one's fucking missing."

"Where..."

"You can't fuckin' mess with people like this."

I stepped toward him. "I want you to stop screwing around and take me seriously."

"Why the fuck would I?"

The question hit the exact wrong nerve. "Because nobody fucking does!" Years of swallowed frustration spilled out. "I'm sick of having to prove myself! I'm a police officer. Quit talking to me like I'm fifteen and take me seriously!"

Luke went completely still, then flashed a shit-eating grin. "Oh, bro."

"What?"

"You shouldn't have said that."

"Why?"

"You wanted something from me." He shook his head, "All my pledges get what they want."

The itch started beneath my jaw. I scratched, but my fingertips dragged across something coarse.

"Aw, fuck, bro. Here we go."

"Wait... what is...?"

Twenty-seven years old and I'd never grown real stubble. Now my fingertips scraped over coarse hair rapidly peppering my jawline.

"What the fuck did you do?"

Luke came toward me. "Dude, you did this."

My jaw cramped. Pressure spread through the bone until my teeth ached, my chin becoming heavier as the lower half of my face broadened.

"Stop it."

"You wanted people to quit looking at you like you're twelve, right?" He scraped his knuckles through the new growth along my jaw. "Heard you loud and clear, bro."

Then my chest began to hurt. The ache was deep inside both pecs, building like post-lift soreness. I pressed my palms against myself and felt the muscles swell outward, packing with new mass while my shirt tightened. My shoulders burned as they broadened, pulling the fabric taut, and both sleeves cinched around my biceps as the muscles expanded.

Luke whistled. "Damn, Ty."

"That's not my... don't call me that."

"Oh, I'm definitely calling you that." He slammed both hands against my chest, pushing into muscles that hadn't been there a minute ago. "Bro, these are getting fucking huge."

He hooked both hands into the front of my shirt and yanked. The fabric tore with a sharp rip along the shoulders. He peeled the ruined shirt away, staring at the body underneath.

"Those look like they belong to a dude people take seriously."

"Fuck... fuck you..." I groaned and winced as my biceps cramped.

I grabbed my right arm, feeling it swell, steadily thickening until my fingers couldn't reach around it. Luke wrapped his hand around the other, squeezed, and laughed.

"Jesus Christ, bro."

"Stop fucking enjoying this!"

"Why? I'm finally getting something I want too." He looked directly into my eyes. "Everybody comes to me wanting shit, Andrew. Maybe finally it's my turn, bro." He took a step closer, pressing up against me, "I want you. I want Tyler."

An intense itch erupted across my bare chest. Coarse hair pushed through my skin beneath my fingertips, thickening between my pecs before spreading outward and trailing down my stomach.

"Chest hair?"

Luke stared openly. "Damn." His hand dragged slowly across my chest, flattening the new hair before finding the swollen muscle beneath, squeezing one pec appreciatively. "Never had that before either, huh?"

"Nnn... no."

"Looks good on you, bro."

I hated the little rush that went through me. "Shut up."

"Twenty-six."

"What?"

"Twenty-six."

"I'm twenty-seven."

"Twenty-five now."

"Bullshit." I reached for my phone, but I wasn't used to my thicker fingers. The phone dropped and I got a glimpse of the dark hair now spreading over my thickened forearms, "I... Fuck I need... back-up..." the Lieuteniants's extension was... I knew it. Of course I knew it.

"Tyler."

"No... I'm... Andrew."

"Sure you are, dude."

Another wave of pressure rolled through my chest, and I groaned as my pecs swelled heavier beneath Luke's hands.

"You're doing good, Ty," he said, rubbing his thumbs through the hair covering them. "Looking real good too."

"You really think so?" The question escaped before I could stop it. Luke smiled, sending a warm flush through me. "You're messing with my head."

"Gift's doing that."

"Then make it fucking stop, bro." I froze. I heard the word echoing in my own head. "Why'd I call you bro?"

"'Cause that's how Tyler talks."

"I'm not Tyler."

"Twenty-four."

"Fuck you."

"Twenty-three."

I tried to concentrate on the investigation, but Luke kept rubbing my chest, talking to me while my thoughts blurred.

"Same shit happened to Richie," Luke said with a smug grin. "Professor dude wanted to quit stressin'. CJ wanted friends. PJ wanted med school apps to stop kickin' his ass. My gift fixes shit, bro. Gives people what they want. All they gotta do is ask." He shrugged, "Don't ask me why everybody ends up like… this." He chuckled at my confusion, "Like one of my new frat bros, bro. Really works out pretty fuckin' great for me, though."

Richie. Dr. Richard Peters. The realization hit. I'd spent three weeks lifting beside one of the missing men.

"You did this to all of them?"

"They asked for something. So did you."

"I asked you to take me seriously!"

"And I'm gonna."

His hand settled against the center of my chest, and the panic faded. Luke had been my suspect, but underneath those facts were three weeks of workouts, parties, jokes, and nights talking shoulder-to-shoulder. I knew the smell of him. I knew how his hand felt gripping my shoulder.

"Relax, Ty."

"Can't."

"Sure you can." He grinned, "Let me help ya, bro."

His mouth was suddenly against mine. My hands grabbed his dense shoulders to push him away, but instead settled on them as I kissed him back. His hands moved over my swollen arms, squeezing my biceps before sliding across my chest. Every approving touch felt... so fuckin' good. I begrudgingly tore myself away, breathing hard.

"What the fuck did I just do?"

"You kissed me."

"I know what I fucking did!"

"Didn't seem like you hated it."

"I don't..."

Luke kissed me again, and my resistance lasted seconds. My thickened arms wrapped around him while his hands explored my chest, fingers kneading through the hair before sliding up to feel my stubble.

"Twenty-two," he murmured when we separated briefly.

Our mouths locked together in a sloppy, desperate kiss, moaning into each other. Luke's palms slid down over my waist, cupping my hips, dropping beneath the waistband of my pants to grip my growing ass. He squeezed hard, kneading into the thick, muscle-packed curves.

"Bro... fuck..." I was breathing hard. Why was twenty-two bad? Something about twenty-seven. Some guy who... no. Me. Right?

"You're fuckin' gorgeous, Ty."

"You mean it, bro?" I mumbled, voice thick and desperate.

"Course I do."

So I kissed him again. His skin smelled like cedarwood and sweat, and instead of wanting space, I pulled him closer. Everything about him was addictive... the warmth of his body, the scratch of his skin, the sound of his breathing, the way his hands roamed across my hairy chest.

"Twenty-one."

Something clicked into place and Luke laughed when I pulled him against me, burying my face in his neck. I wanted him close, so fuckin' close. To feel him, smell him, worship him.

"Love you, bro," I mumbled against his skin, kissing his jaw.

"Love you too, Ty," Luke whispered, his hands sliding down to grip my heavy ass cheeks again.

The friction of our heavy bulges pressing hard against each other through layers of fabric made a low, strangled whine tear out of my throat. My hips bucked forward instinctively, grinding our groins together, and I felt his thick, rigid cock, swollen and desperate against my own throbbing, leaking length.

"Fuck… Ty, you're driving me insane," Luke gasped, a ragged, breathless moan tearing from his chest.

"Let me take care of it, bro," I murmured, a half-dazed grin spreading across my face.

Luke’s breath hitched sharply in sudden surprise as I shoved his jeans and boxers down in one fierce motion. His heavy, already-leaking cock sprang free, hot and throbbing in the dim light. Without a second thought, I dropped heavily to my knees between his thighs, my gaze locking up onto his flushed, half-delirious face.

"Ty…" he breathed out, voice cracking as my mouth closed over him.

That was when the door opened.

Richie stopped in the doorway. "Damn, Ty..."

Fuckin' Richie... Always getting in the fuckin' way, "Bruh, get the fuck out."

"Dude..." Richie grinned, "That's a rough fuckin' 21."

"Fuck you!" I laughed, scrambling to my feet, "What's the supposed to mean?"

I ran calloused hand through the thick, dark mat of chest hair sweeping across my broad pecs. People always acted so surprised by how much hair I had. Not my fault I hit puberty at like 8. Bunch of dumbasses. Besides, as long as Luke liked it, didn't really matter.

"Can't you see we're fuckin' busy, bro?" My swollen cock ached inside my jeans. I pointed a thick finger at the door, "Get the fuck out, man!"

"Hey, take it easy, big guy. Just came to see if you were ready to head back downstairs. The keg's overflowing, and half the house is asking where their favorite pledge went."

"Get lost, Richie," Luke muttered, his breathless rasp sending a fresh jolt of horniness straight to my groin.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Richie chuckled, closing the door.

Once it shut, my gaze locked onto Luke as he fell back onto the mattress, his heavy, leaking cock completely exposed and begging for attention.

"Where were we, bro?" I murmured, laying atop him, pressing a hot, greedy kiss to his lips before trailing my mouth eagerly down his throat, sliding lower over his chest and stomach until my lips wrapped firmly around his thick, leaking cock.

Look bro what harm can come form just trying it on?

First off I’m not your “bro” and second I don’t know were that helmet has been. Also I feel dumb enough having to this shirt and what was this thing on my arm again?

Its a sleeve with all the plays on it you are going to be our QB in the scrimmage and that shirt allows you to keep full range of mobility while staying cool as well. Plus I figured you didn’t want to go shirtless which is the best way to stay cool I might add.

That’s another thing why do I have to participate in your scrimmage practice? I’m just here to get info for my article about the football team for the school newspaper.

This way you can get the full experience and you can write a great story for us bro. Now here put on this helmet so we can get started.

Fine, but I’m not your “bro”. My name is Connor. I slip it on like this right.

That it bro now let just help you snap on the chin strap and there you go. It looks good on you bro.

After Jon finished snapping on Connor’s chin strap he felt a strange tingling sensation course through his mind and body, however, he quickly shook it off.

Now come on bro lets get started.

I’m not your….you now what never mind.

Connor’s team had the ball first. Getting into the huddle everyone stared at Connor waiting to hear the play. He looked down at the sleeve on his arm that had the plays on them.

All right team Red Right 90 Pull Trap break on three….1….2….3

BREAK!

After they break, Connor stood in shock as he realized that he just raddled off a play like he as play QB all his life. He got into position after the ball was snapped to him and his receiver was in position he launched the ball at him and delivered a perfect pass. After which he placed his hands on top of his helmet in awe of what he just did.

Great pass bro. You sure you haven’t play football before?

Thanks bro and no, I must just have some hidden natural talent or something.

Well what ever it is keep it up the game is just getting started.

Connor went on for the the rest of the 1st quarter throwing perfect pass after perfect pass. He was so focus on trying to figure out were all this talent was coming from that he didn’t even notice that he had taken his shirt and sleeve off and threw them over to the sideline. However,  at the end of the 1st quarter the tingling sensation return but this time it was stronger. It was so strong that the whole field began to spin. He called in the back up QB and began to stumble his way back to the locker room. Once inside he lead his arms up against the lockers to brace himself and to prevent himself form falling.

What the fuck is happening to me. Where did all this knowledge and talent for football come from? What am I saying I’ve been playing football all my life. Wait a second no I haven’t. I’ve never played football in my life in fact I’ve always hated football. Then why do I remember playing it ever since i was able to walk. I can remember playing pee-wee, flag, and even leading my middle school team to becoming state champions. No, this can’t be true, then why did coach Dustin asked me to come to  tryouts today. Tryouts? I’m here to write an article on the football team for the school newspaper. What am I saying, an article what am I a nerd. Yes, yes I am. No, no I’m not. What the fuck is wrong with me. The whole room is spinning and I’m burning up. I need to get this helmet off.

Connor went to remove the helmet, but for some reason it wouldn’t come off. Connor pulled and pulled but the helmet wouldn’t bulge as if it was glued to his head. Then tingling sensation return but this time it was stronger than it was in the past and seemed like it wasn’t going to let up. The sensation  engulfed his all of his muscles to contract and relax as if they were doing a years worth of weight lifting in the gym. His skinny arms began to inflate and tighten into beams of steel. His chest began to grow into mountains replacing what used to be a flat valley. His stomach flatten before bricks muscle began to bulge up forming his abs and a nice v-shape leading into his shorts. Next his thighs swelled up becoming tree trunks and his calves became hard as diamonds. Then his feet grew longer and wider while his hand grew bigger. Then his legs and back stretched longer making Connor go from 5′7″ to 6′5″ in a matter of minutes all the while his chest, back, and shoulders grew wider and broader. Then what felt like a hand rapped around his neck making it thicker and his adams apple more pronounced. Then his voice drop like a stone in a lake causing to have a voice that will make anyone weak in there legs. Next the gripping feeling creeped its way up to his face, reshaping it and making his jaw more squared. Then his hair began to grow longer, causing it to creep out the back of the helmet and slightly curl upwards, and turn lighter to a more  sandy blonde color. Finally the rest of his memories were replaced with those of years of playing football, going beast-mode in the gym, and all things jock. Gone was the nerdy Connor all that remained was the jock Connor. Afterwards the sensation left Connor’s body that is when the team came in from the practice field.

Bro what happen to you out there. You left us out there at the end of the 1st quarter.

Sorry bro just started to feel strange must of gotten to hot out there.

I told you not to wear that shirt out there.

I know bro but I even tried taking it off and that didn’t work.

Strange….anyway good job out there. I see that the rumors of your passing skills are true.

Connor lifted his arms and began to flex them.

Well it helps to have guns like this bro.

Sure does bro. I believe that the coach wish to talk to you but I have an idea what he is going to say so I’m going to say it first. Welcome to the Team Bro

Pulling up to his friend’s apartment building, Jacob Carlson, was excited to spend some time with his friend, Daniel Moore. Jacob and Daniel have been best friends since kindergarten but adult life after college has prevented them from hanging out as much as they wanted. But today they can leave their adult responsibilities and just chill, catch-up, and play the new Super Smash Bros for the Switch that Daniel just recently acquired. Jacob quickly threw his car in park and excitedly made his way into the apartment building and made his way up to Daniel’s apartment. Jacob walked up to Daniel’s door and knocked but there was no answer. Jacob reached out to knock again but that’s when the door opened, however, Daniel wasn’t the one who answered. No, instead it was a tall, ripped man wearing nothing but a pair of black gym shorts. He had thick stubble on his face and his ripped upper body was covered in thick body hair. He was also covered in sweat like he was in the middle of a workout or just finished one.

In a deep manly voice the tall stranger ask, “Can I help you?”

Clearing his throat Jacob responded, “I’m sorry I must have the wrong apartment. I was looking for the apartment of Daniel Moore?”

The stranger responded, “No, you are at the right place. You must be Jacob; Daniel said you would be coming. He had to step out to go grab something and asked me to watch his apartment for him.”

“My name is Dan”, he said as he reached out his massive hand for handshake.

“Nice to meet you”, Jacob said as he accepted Dan’s handshake.

“Come on in, Daniel should be back any minute now.” Dan stated as he lifted his arm motioning Jacob to come in.

Jacob smiled and walked into the apartment. As Jacob walked by Dan he caught a whiff of his BO and it was rank and strong causing him to start coughing.

“You ok dude?” asked Dan.

“Yeah…cough..cough…just caught a whiff of something and it…cough…caught me off guard.” Jacob said while regaining himself.

Dan lifted one of his arms and sniffed his pit cause his eyes to roll back in delight.

After letting out a quite soft moan Dan said, “Shit man sorry, I had just finished a heavy workout when Daniel asked me to watch his apartment and I didn’t have the time to shower yet. I’ll see if Daniel has some spray deodorant. You make yourself comfortable while I go look.”

“Ok, if he has any it will either be in his room or in the bathroom” said Jacob.

“Thanks bro. be right back” responded Dan.

As Dan left to check for some deodorant, Jacob made himself comfortable on Daniel’s couch. It was not long till Dan came back.

“Hey bro you thirsty?” ask Dan.

“Ummm sure but is it ok to get something without Daniel’s approval?” question Jacob.

“Its fine I brought my own drinks before I left my apartment…..shit!” exclaimed Dan.

Turning around look towards the kitchen Jacob asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I only brought one drink with me. Oh well, here bro catch.” said Dan as he tossed Jacob a bottle.

Almost failing to catch it, Jacob, looks at the bottle in his hands. It was a fruit punch flavored sport drink call GEAR. Jacob has never heard of GEAR before but that didn’t surprise him as he doesn’t drink sport drinks often.

“Are you sure I can have this Dan, I mean you did brought for yourself and I can just get a glass of water, wait for Daniel to get back, or we could just share the drink.” said Jacob

“Don’t worry about it bro, I had one earlier and I really shouldn’t have another. Plus once you take the first sip you’ll drink the whole damn thing they are that damn good! I’ll just have a glass of water” said Dan as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap.

“Ok, thank you.” said Jacob as he twisted the cap of the bottle.

Jacob brought the drink up to his lips and took a sip. It was delicious and far better than he was expecting. The flavor was sweet and full and the drink itself was smooth.

“Told you it was good.” stated Dan taking a seat next to Jacob on the couch.

Reeling from the slight jump scare, Jacob let out a small laugh then went to drink some more but realized that he had already drunk it all.

“Damn you were right. I didn’t even realize that I had drunk it that fast.” said Jacob

“Told you!” Dan said while laughing

“So, Dan, Tell me about you. What do you do for a living and how long have you be living here?” asked Jacob

“I’ve just recently moved in and I work at the gym down the street as a personal trainer” stated Dan

“Oh that’s interesting. Have you always been interested in fitness?” asked Jacob

“Yeah man, ever since I was a teenager. I played football and wrestling in high school and that required I put time in the weight room. While I enjoyed playing those sports what I really loved was the feeling of building my body and getting ripped.” Stated Dan as lifted his arms and flex his massive biceps.

A strong musky scent made its way into Jacob’s nostrils. It was hot and pungent but at the same time rich and intoxicating. The smell was so strong that it caused the room to spin and it made Jacob extremely light headed. He was passing out but before he fell completely over he felt Dan catch him.

“You ok bro? You almost fell off the couch” asked a concern Dan.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little light headed just now. Thanks for catching me bro.” said Jacob.

Wait did I just say bro?

“No problem bro.” said Dan

Dan sat Jacob back upright on the couch leaving his arm wrapped behind him to help hold him up. As Jacob sat there trying to regain his composure he happen to glance down at Dan’s crotch. Jacob was in awe of the bulge that was present in between Dan man-spread legs. Thoughts began to race through Jacob’s mind, thoughts like how massive Dan’s dick looked in those gym shorts, if Dan’s dick was hard or if it was just that massive soft, and ultimately how much he wanted to suck on that massive member. Jacob quickly shook his head and pulled his gaze away from Dan’s crotch. Did he really just stare at another man’s crotch and think about sucking it. He wasn’t gay and he would never have sex with another man that was a chick’s job. As Jacob was trying to understand these thoughts in his head that’s when the musky scent made its way back into his nose. Jacob took a deep breath in of the scent letting its intoxicating aroma invade his mind. The scent drew Jacob’s gaze to the armpit of Dan’s extended arm. The whole room seemed to fade way as all of his attention was drawn towards that sexy, musky aroma coming from Dan’s hairy armpit. All Jacob could think about was wanting to bury his face in that pit, inhaling all of that manly musk , and wanting to work his tongue on every single hair in that pit. Just when Jacob was going to snap himself out of this train of thought, trying to remind himself he isn’t gay, in his deep voice Dan said, “You want to get closer?” Jacob said nothing as inside he was screaming no but his body was screaming yes as he felt his head nod up and down. The next thing he felt was Dan’s massive hand reach up behind his head and using it to pull it closer to his pit. His heart was racing and his breathing growing more rapid as if his body was excited for what was to come all the while he was mentally fighting to make it stop.  Jacob closed his eyes not wanting to see this come to reality but then he felt Dan’s armpit hair tickle is face, he was buried in the pit now. Holding his breath Jacob desperately tried to regain control of himself and break free from Dan’s grasp but then deep tone Dan whispered in Jacob’s ear, “Inhale.”  With that command Jacob took a deep breath, inhaling Dan’s intoxicating scent straight from the source and letting that voice in his head to grow quiet.

Jacob continued to inhale Dan’s scent letting it soak into every fiber of his being as a warm feeling washed over his body. Jacob felt Dan repositioning himself on the couch giving Jacob more room to stretch out. Jacob was grateful for the extra room as his body ached but he never left Dan’s warm pit, Dan’s hand no longer on the back of his head instead now resting behind his own head to give Jacob full access to his pit. Little did Jacob know, as he was buried in Dan armpit inhaling that warm aroma, the aching his body was feeling was coming from the growth his body was experiencing. His body stretch and lengthen adding inches to his height. Quickly Jacob grew from 5’5” to 6”5” all the while his chest, back, and shoulders grew wider and broader allowing him to inhale even deeper. Feeling the aching reach his feet, Jacob, kicked off his shoes and sock and it was a good thing he did as his feet were growing longer and wider no longer fitting his size 11s. No, he will be wearing size 15s now. His hands also grew bigger to match his large frame, now owning a pair of man mitts himself. Dan took his other hand and reached down Jacob’s shirt and began to rub it causing Jacob to let out a small moan.

“Fuck…” said Jacob mid moan.

“You like that tall guy?” asked Dan.

“Mmmhmm.” Mumbled Jacob.

“You love the way I smell don’t you?” asked Dan

“Yeeess, want deodorant did you use?” asked Jacob

“I didn’t. That is all pure man musk.” Stated Dan

“Fuck….” Moaned Jacob

Jacob’s inner voice return wanting to know what was going on. He knew without a doubt that he wasn’t gay and/or was attracted to men, but here he was with his face buried in a man’s armpit breathing in his scent and enjoying it. What did Dan mean by tall too, he was short for an adult male? He then began to think about what if Daniel walked in and saw him like this what would he say, but this thought was interrupted by Dan.

“You want to lick it don’t you.” asked Dan

“No.” stated Jacob listening to his inner voice

“Yes you do.” said Dan

“No.” stated Jacob again while pulling away

I’m not gay thought Jacob as he was regaining control of himself. He continued to pull himself free but something was off. It was like his body was fighting him, wanting to stay in Dan’s warm pit. No he keep repeating to himself, something is wrong.

“I’m not ga–“

“Lick it.”

With those commanding words whispered in Jacob’s ear by Dan, Jacob’s inner voice once again went silent. His face quickly plunged its self back into Dan’s open pit but this time his mouth opened up and allowed his tongue to escape. It quickly went to work licking and exploring Dan’s hairy pit. Jacob could taste Dan’s salty sweat, it was absolutely delectable. As Jacob went to town on Dan’s armpit, Dan reached down and grabbed the tail of Jacob’s shirt and proceed to pull it off. Jacob didn’t fight it and easily allow his shirt to glide right off of him, exposing his now broad back. Dan then proceeds to move Jacob out of his pit so he could readjust and let him work on the other one. As he did, Jacob kissed and licked Dan hairy pecs and nipples causing Dan to let out a deep moan in pleasure. The sound rang in Jacob’s ears making his dick to start growing hard. When Dan finally got Jacob in his other pit he reached down and started to unbutton and unzip Jacob’s pants. Jacob realizing what Dan was doing help him strip of his pants. Afterwards Dan began to massage Jacob’s dick through his underwear causing him to let out loud moans while he was still in Dan’s pit. A warm feeling began to spread throughout Jacob’s body as Dan continued to massage Jacob’s raging boner. Dan then moved his hand away Jacob’s crotch and started to rub Jacob’s thighs. As he did Jacob’s legs began to grow in size adding pounds of muscle to them. His once skinny legs were now as thick as tree trunks. His calves then began to balloon in size becoming the size of soft balls and as hard as stone. The feeling the made its way up to his ass, making it grow rounder and firmer with muscle. Dan then began to rub Jacob’s stomach as the warm feeling moved its way there. Jacob’s once flat stomach soon grew bricks of muscle as a nice six pack formed. The feeling then moved its way into his chest causing nice, strong, manly pecs to form and take shape. The feeling then wrapped its self around Jacob’s back, shoulders, and traps. His already broad back and shoulders became even more define as strong muscle grew all the while his traps became thicker with muscle too. The feeling then make its way down Jacob’s arms. Large veins began to snake their way up and around his arms as thick, strong muscle grew. His triceps and biceps ballooned in size becoming 15” guns of rock hard muscle. His forearms followed suit thickening up and becoming shredded. With that the feeling subsided, leaving the now transformed Jacob. Gone was his skinny body, now replace with the body of a bodybuilding jock.

Dan grabbed Jacob’s hand a placed it on his crotch, shocking Jacob out of his hypnotic trance. Dan lefted Jacob’s head to where the two locked eyes. Using Jacob’s hand, Dan massaged his massive dick through his gym shorts.  

“You like that don’t you big man?” asked Dan

“Ye—no. No, I don’t! I’m not ga–“

“Yes! …You do.”

“Yes, I do”

Jacob was trying his best to resist these new invading thoughts but to no avail. While something deep down was telling him to stop and trying to remind him that he wasn’t gay this new feeling was strong and overwhelming. He was loving this feeling and it felt all too natural to him. Yet something still felt off like he was becoming something he wasn’t.

“You want to suck it don’t you?” ask Dan

“Nnnnn….”

Dan proceed to remove his gym shorts reveling the fact he wasn’t wearing underwear but more importantly reveling his massive dick.

“You want, to suck it.”

“Yeee…Nnnn…Yeeeee…”

Dan leaned up and whispered in Jacob’s ear, “Suck it”, then with his hand on the back of Jacob’s head pull him down toward his crotch. Jacob didn’t fight it and easy let his head move toward Dan’s dick. Then as if he had done this before, Jacob, grab Dan’s dick and wrapped his mouth around it. He then began to bob his head up and down, letting his tongue and mouth glide smoothly along Dan’s massive shaft. Thoughts reentered his mind trying to convince him that this wasn’t right and that this wasn’t him. But at the same time he loved the way Dan’s dick felt in his mouth and the moans from Dan filled him with pleasure and assured him that this was right.

As Jacob continued to suck Dan’s dick a new taste hit Jacob’s tongue. It was light but salty and sticky at the same time, it was pre-cum. Like a thirsty animal Jacob began to focus and work on the tip of Dan’s dick, try to lick every last drop on the translucent nectar. As he did that warm feeling reemerged but this time it felt like a pair of hands that wrapped around his face. Those warm hands then proceed to work and massage his face and head, reshaping it. His jaw became shaper and more square while his face became more symmetrical, removing and imbalances and blemishes. His hair then became a more manly style with shorter sides and back but slightly longer crown and front. Those warm hands then made their way down to his neck, wrapping around it. In that warmth it grew thicker while making his moans grow deeper. Gone was his pitchy high voice now replaced with a deep, baritone, manly one. The warm feeling spread to cover his whole being and from the warmth hair began to rapidly grow all over his body. Starting on his face a thick nicely shaped beard grew finishing off handsome face. Then in his deep armpits thick bushes of hair to rival that of Dan’s grew and from them a new scent began to fill the air. Dan caught a whiff of this new smell and let out a deep, load moan.

“You smelling nice bro”, stated Dan.

Jacob let out a moan in agreement as he continued to suck Dan’s dick. As he did the warm feeling continued to do its work, this time on his ripped arms. A light coating grew on the back of his man paws and forearm. Then the warms began to work on his legs. Thick dark hairs grew all up and down his long legs, covering every inch. The warm feeling then began to condense itself in Jacob’s chest. Hair erupted on his pecs giving them a nice coating. A slightly lighter coating grew on the top of his abs, but not enough to hide his impressive stomach, all the while the hair in the middle of his abs grew thicker giving him a nice treasure tail. And of course where there is a treasure trail there has to be treasure. The warmth made its way down to his groin and began messaging his dick and balls. His dick grew past its previous length all the while it grew thicker become a massive python that men only dream of. His balls grew larger to match is massive dick, as a result, releasing waves of pleasure and testosterone throughout him.

Dan pull Jacob up and away from his dick, a thread of pre-cum trailed from Jacob’s tongue to the tip of Dan’s dick’s. He brought Jacob up to his face and locked lips with him. As the two made-out, Dan pushed Jacob back on his back.

Breaking from Jacob, Dan said, “Your one hell of man and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“Right back at ya br..!”

Snapping out of his trance to the sound of his voice, Jacob was in shock by how deep it sounded. His senses and mind returning to him, Jacob realized what he had just done and push Dan off of him.

“What’s wrong bro?”

“No! Something isn’t right, this isn’t right. I’m not ga..!”

Jacob gasped as he looked upon his newly transformed body. He couldn’t believe his eyes, he was jacked. Gone was his small thin body, now only the body of a hairy muscle jock remained.

“What the hell happened to me?!”

“What are you talking about bro?”

“My body! What the hell happened to my body?”

“What’s wrong with your body?”

“I’m HUGE!”

“Damn right you are!”, said Dan as he began to message Jacob’s pecs.

A wave of pleasure washed over Jacob causing his thoughts to get foggy.

“You were always the biggest guy on the wrestling team back in high school and college”

“Damn right I…nnn..nnno that’s not….”

Jacob was trying to his best to hold on to himself but every thought was so clouded. He could have sworn that he never played sports, especially wrestling, but then why does he remember it. Yes, he remembers now. He was the captain of the wrestling team in both high school and college. He was an absolute beast on the mat. He also remembers working out and get absolutely jacked in the weight room. He also remembered the nights he would give “extra practice” to the other team members. He loved the way they would suck his dick and their asses were also so fu…

“No! That’s a lie. I don’t like dudes! I’m not gay!” shouted Jacob

“What do you mean you’re not gay? You’ve always been gay and you never hid that fact Jake.”

“No, that’s not right and that’s not my name. I’m Jacob and I’m not gay and I’ve never fucked a mmmmm….”  

Jacob let out a load moan has Dan began to rub his dick through his now tight fitting underwear. As his dick was being rubbed he remembered that he was in fact gay. He remembered fucking every guy on the wrestling team, securing his dominance as captain on the team. However there was one guy on the team that made him feel safe enough to let go of control, that guy was his best friend Dan.

“How does that feel big guy?”

“mmmhmmmm.”

“You like that don’t you Jake”

“Fuuuuuck yes”

“Then you’ll love this….”

Dan proceed to strip the underwear off of Jake, releasing his new massive dick. Dan then spit into his hand and then wrapped it around Jakes hard python and started to jack him off.

“Oooooh Fuuck”

Dan jacked Jake’s dick off sending wave of sexual pleasure through Jake. As the waves washed over him, Jake began to settle in place.

Thrust

Loving working out

Thrust

Being a beast in the gym

Thrust

Being a buff wrestling jock in high school and college.

Thrust

Being attracted to the scent of a man

Thrust

Being attracted to the body of a man

Thrust

Being a dominate gay man

Thrust

But submissive to his best friend now husband Dan

Dan’s picked up the pace and began to bring Jake to his climax.

Thrust

“mmmm”

Thrust

“Fuuck”

Thrust

“I am”

Thrust

“I am about”

Thrust

“I’m about to”

Thrust

“FUUUUUCKKK!”

And with one final thrust Jake shot rivers of cum all over his bare chest, some of it even landing in his beard. As he cam any traces of Jacob vanished, leaving only the switch muscle jock Jake behind. Dan leaned in licked the cum of Jake’s face and chest.

“Fuck babe, what did I do to deserve that?” asked Jake reeling from the massive orgasm he just had.

“You were look so fine that I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Well you aren’t looking too half bad yourself, babe. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I can’t just leave you hanging like that now can I” said Jake with a smirk on his face.

Jake then flipped him and Dan around. He then went back to town on Dan’s dick, sucking it like a popsicle. It wasn’t long till Dan shot his load right into Jake’s throat. Jake didn’t hestitate swallowing it. The two then proceed to make-out only stop so Dan could state that they need to talk to GEAR rep about selling it at the gym, saying that it could help make the gym grow. Jake agree and said he will call him tomorrow but right now only wanted him. The couple would continue to embrace each other for the rest of the day completely forgetting about play their new switch game. That was fine though as they were enjoying they own version of Super Smash Bros.

Daniel struggled to open the door to his apartment. He was reconsidering his decision to carry everything from the store in one trip but he just bought Super Smash Bros for his Switch and his friend Jacob was coming over to play it with him. He didn’t have much time before Jacob would show up and he still had so much to prepare, but first he need to get in. Putting his bags down he proceed to open the door and walk in. He then placed his bags on the counter and proceeds to put things away.

“Huh? I don’t remember buying this.”

Daniel proceeds to pull out what appeared to be some sort of sports drink. It was called GEAR a brand that he never heard of so it must have been new. Then it dawned on him, as he was leaving the store there was a booth set up outside handing out a free bottle of GEAR to customers. The guy who was handing them out claimed that they gave him boost and helped him transformed his body. It must have done something because that dude was absolutely ripped.  He grabbed the bottle and proceeds to open it.

“Why not, I haven’t had anything to drink today since this morning.”

Daniel brought the drink up to his lips and took a sip. It was delicious and tasted like fruit punch. Daniel chugged the rest of the drink down. He wiped his mouth off then went back to work putting the rest of the stuff up. It took him no time to do is so he decided to clean up a bit but that too took no time.

“Woah! That drink really did give me a lot of energy. I can see now how that guy got so ripped. With this much energy it be no problem going to the gym to work it off.”

As he was saying this his stomach began to turn. First he thought it was just the fact he had that sugar filled drink with nothing else on his stomach but then his core began to burn. Daniel braced himself on the counter as that burning feeling began to spread throughout his body. It was like he was on fire. Then it began. He felt his bones beginning to stretch long adding inches to his height. He quickly grew from 5’6” to 6’4”. Breathing heavily, Daniel began to question what was going on but he didn’t have long before his growth spurt continued. He lurched back gasping in pain as his back and chest widened as his shoulders became broader. Looking down at his hands he saw them too growing bigger. Then he heard his socks ripping as his feet grew larger and wider. His size 10 shoes won’t fit him anymore, he will need size 15’s now.

“What is happening to me! My—ugh—body!”

The burning feeling then seeped into Daniel’s muscles. First it was in his legs. His calves grew larger, then his thighs grew thick with muscle. His pants where straining to contain his now massive tree trunk legs. Daniel then hunched forward as the burning feeling proceed up into his abdomen. He lifted up his shirt causing his eyes to widen in shock. His stomach began to melt away as solid slabs of muscle began to emerge. He had abs! The burning moved further up into his chest causing his breathing to deepen. With each breath watched as his chest, his pecs, beginning to rise and push his shirt out away from him. As they did his nipples rubbed up against the fabric of his shirt sending a shiver of pleasure through him. As that burning pleasure washed over him it moved to his shoulders and back adding thick muscle to them. It then traveled down his arms. His biceps and triceps ballooned in size straining at the sleeves of his shirt. His forearms grew to match the rest of his arms as thick veins snaked their way up and around his massive arms. The burning feeling worked its way back up his arms and wrapped itself around Daniel’s throat and neck. It felt he was being choked by a pair of massive hands as his traps grew thicker. Gasping for air he could feel his neck growing thicker. When the feeling let go took a deep breath and then began to cough while he felt his now thick neck with his hands.

“What the fuck?!”

His eyes widen in shock to the sound of his voice. Gone was his normal voice, now replaced with a deep manly voice that made men melt into him.

“Wait men?! I’m not into men! I love pussy and chicks! The thought of sleeping with another ma.ugh..mmmmhhh”

Daniel’s thought was cut short has the burning feeling intensified, he felt like he was on fire. He quickly stripped down to his underwear in an attempted to cool himself off, reveling his now large, muscular body. A smile creped its way onto his face as he look in awe of his body.

“I’m fucking shredded. Men wish they could be like this. Maybe that’s why they love to be with me…WHAT! No, no I’m not into m…..”

His thought was cut off again, this time by a hot musky scent that infiltrated his nostrils. He lifted his arm and took a big whiff of his armpit.

“Fuuuck!”

His eyes rolled back as he took another deep sniff.

“FUUUUUUCK, YES!”

Daniel’s dick began to grow hard as he became more and more turned on by his own manly musk. When he opened his eyes he looked into his deep pit and saw that the hair became thicker. He pulled his face in closer and took another deep breath of his musk in and as he did he let out a deep moan. As he continued to sniff himself his legs began to get covered in hair. It didn’t stop at his legs though, no, he began to grow a thick pelt of hair on his chest that worked its way down his abs covering them in hair too. Then the hair on his arms grew thicker. While he continued to sniff is pit his face began to shift and change. It grew sharper and manly. Thick facial hair began to grow on his face forming a nice stable beard. His ass then grew thicker and firmer. The musky aroma finally worked its way into Daniel’s mind, where he was still fighting these new thoughts entering his mind.

“Fuck this smell is amazing. No wonder guys like to be in there. I bet they just love it when I grab their head and shove it in there. I know I like it when they start licking…..sniff…..mmmmmhh. NO! NO! I’M NOT GAY! I’M NO..!”

Pulling himself out of his pit he was in shock after seeing his now hairy body. But what shocked him the most was the raging boner in is now tight underwear. As he began to think on the thought of being hard over his new body and other men his dick twitched and released and wave of pleasure and ecstasy. Daniel moaned in pleasure, bracing himself against the counter. He looked back down and watched has his dick elongated past its previous length and grew thicker. His balls also grew in size to match his growing python. In a matter of moments Daniel’s dick grew to match his now massive size. When it finally stop growing he looked down at his new appendage straining against the fabric of his underwear as musky smelling sweat ran down his body. Then another pulse of pleasure and lust washed over him.

“mmmh”

His dick pulsed again.

“UGhmmh!”

And again.

“FUUUUMMUGH!”

Thoughts of men entered his mind as it pulsed again.

“FUCK YES!”

Hot men worshiping him

“MORE!”

Hot men sucking his dick.

“FUCK MORE!”

Him sucking other men’s dick.

“MMH YES MORE!”

Him dominating and fucking other men.

“FUUUUUUCK!”

And with a deep primal moan Daniel shot rivers of hot sticky cum that soaked right through his underwear and formed a small puddle at his feet. As Daniel, now preferring the nickname Dan, was coming back to reality after that wave of bliss and ecstasy, he took a deep breath.

“Fuck….I guess I must have worked up a sweet bringing the groceries in and it just turned me on and took over me, but damn did it feel good.”

Gone was small and straight gamer Daniel, remade now as the gay dominate stud Dan. Still reeling back from that experience, he looks down at the wet cum stain on his underwear and puddle at his feet then lets out a small chuckle.

“It’s a shame no one was here to enjoy that.”

At that moment knocking can be heard knocking from the door to his apartment. A devilish smile grows on his Dan’s face. Dan slips off his cum soaked underwear as he grabs a dirty pair of black gym shorts from the laundry basket and puts them on.

“That’s right Jacob was coming over and we were going to play Smash Bros. Well, I hope he does mind playing with my joy-con.”

Fit Camp to Frat Camp

The summer he was fourteen, Ethan's parents sent him to Camp Cedar Ridge.They called it a "fitness retreat." But even the sign in front of the camp said “Fat Camp.” 

Honestly, it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected. The food wasn't completely terrible, the counselors at least tried to be encouraging, and after a week of hiking, swimming, and pretending dodgeball counted as "team-building," he'd somehow made two good friends.

There was Owen, who could turn any conversation into a lecture about fantasy novels or some bizarre science fact, and Miles, whose social skills were almost impressively awful. He never meant to be rude—he just had an uncanny talent for saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment. Together, the three of them had quietly become the camp's resident weirdos.

One afternoon, while wandering through the woods behind the cabins, Ethan came across an old storage shed that looked like it hadn't been opened in decades. Most of it was junk, piles of broken lanterns, moldy boxes, rusted tools. But tucked inside a dusty wooden chest was something that was different.

It looked like a dried-up monkey's hand. The leathery fingers were curled into a fist, and somehow it felt warm despite being covered in dust. As he turned it over in his hands, a half-forgotten story drifted back into his mind.

A monkey's paw and three wishes, maybe he had seen the movie but he barely remembered. He knew it was just all just an old superstition. Even so, as he stared at the shriveled paw, he found himself wondering what he would wish for. 

He took it back to his cabin, obviously, it was a shriveled animal part and he was a fourteen year old boy. He also wanted to show it to Owen and Miles, who were in the cabin's small kitchenette when he arrived, loudly debating the integrity of a real life alien invasion. They didn’t even notice then come in, only looking up at the slam the door. 

“Yo, look what I found.”

Owen glanced over. “...That's either a preserved primate paw or the world's least appetizing beef jerky.”

“I found it in the old shed,” Ethan said. “I think it's supposed to be one of those monkey's paws. You know, the wish thing.”

Owen snorted. “Magic violates several fundamental laws of physics.”

Miles looked up. “Also, if it grants wishes, why'd it end up in a dusty shed?”

Ethan frowned. “You two are no fun.”

“I wish you guys were cooler”

Their clothing instantly began to change, replacing their old outfits with a new wardrobe that hung awkwardly off their still-scrawny frames. Owen now wore a pair of khaki shorts and a navy hoodie, while Miles stood beside him in matching shorts and a fitted black T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a sports team neither nerd recognized. Both sported baseball caps, carelessly turned backward as though they'd been wearing them their whole lives.

The oversized clothes looked ridiculous on them, like toddlers playing dress-up in their fathers' wardrobes. They still had the soft, slightly pudgy bodies they'd always been embarrassed by, and neither boy looked comfortable in the new clothes. Glancing down, they watched their hands begin to change. Their fingers lengthened, palms broadened, and knuckles thickened into large, rough-looking hands as a healthy bronze tan slowly spread across their skin.

The color continued creeping over their bodies, replacing their pale complexions with the sun-kissed glow of boys who spent every free afternoon outdoors. Their feet stretched in tandem with their hands, widening and lengthening until Owen's size eights became solid tens while Miles' pushed all the way to elevens. At the same time, muscle began swelling beneath their skin. Miles instinctively flexed, watching his biceps rise into firm, rounded muscle with an awestruck grin.

"Bro... you're hot," Owen blurted, staring at his friend's rapidly broadening physique. But the changes didn't stop there.

The soft bellies that had always been a source of embarrassment suddenly tightened as though an invisible vacuum were pulling inward from beneath the skin. Every trace of fat vanished, sculpting defined pectorals and sharply cut abs across both torsos. Miles was already convinced his were an eight-pack, even if anyone else would call them a six.

The soft bellies that had always been a source of embarrassment were sucked inwards, like a vacuum sucking from beneath the skin. Every trace of fat vanished, leaving only identical sets of pectorales and immaculate six packs, although Miles would always claim to have an eight pack.  Owen’s khakis became noticeably tight as it filled with a plump bubble butt while miles backside remained tight and muscly. Their entire builds broadened, shoulders widening, chests thickening, and arms filling out until both looked like they had spent years in the weight room rather than behind computer screens.

Both their dicks expanded, flooding their minds with a sudden rush of pleasure.

"Fuck ya, bro!" Miles shouted, his voice dropping into a deep, relaxed drawl that carried no trace of the nasal, awkward nerd he had been only moments before.

Owen laughed, his own voice sounding lower and brashly confident. He absentmindedly scratched beneath his backward cap as dark hair pushed outward, growing longer until thick curls spilled from underneath the brim.

Their faces shifted into place as the final pieces of the transformation settled. Miles' nose broadened, giving his features a stronger, more rugged look, while Owen's jaw sharpened into a broad, square shape that seemed carved from stone. Their cheekbones became more defined, their eyes settled into relaxed, self-assured expressions, and even their smiles took on an easy arrogance. The two boys looked at each other and couldn't help but grin like the narcissistic jocks they had become. 

Ethan stared at them, waiting for one of them to crack the facade of bravado. 

"...Owen?" 

The curly-haired boy frowned. "Who's Owen?” He asked. "My name's Oz, dude."

Ethan laughed nervously. "Very funny. You were just talking about aliens," Ethan insisted. "And fantasy books."

Oz looked genuinely confused. "I don't read, I don’t even know how, lil bro.”

Miles shrugged. "Books are kinda for geeks."

Ethan's smile slowly faded. "But... you guys are geeks."

At that, both boys burst out laughing.

"Good one," Miles said.

As they talked, Ethan noticed the cabin wasn't quite the same anymore. A battered mini fridge now sat beneath the window where a bookshelf had been. Empty pizza boxes rested on the counter. Someone had tossed a hoodie over a chair, and a pair of muddy cleats lay in the middle of the floor like they'd been kicked off after practice. The room felt messier every time he looked away.

Oz grabbed a bottle from the fridge. "Dude, we're almost out of protein shakes."

"We'll grab more after conditioning," Miles replied.

Ethan stepped toward them confused. "Guys... what's going on?"

Oz looked him over for a moment before recognition crossed his face. "Oh, what do you want Ethan?"

"You remember me?"

"Sure," Miles said with a grin. "You're that weird kid."

Ethan blinked. "No... we're friends."

Oz exchanged a glance with Miles before both of them laughed. "Dude," he said, "why would we hang out with you?"

"You seriously need to chill," Miles added. "Maybe spend less time indoors."

The two of them wandered back into the kitchenette, still chuckling to each other. Ethan backed away slowly before hurrying into the bedroom. slamming the door behind him, he immediately started digging through his backpack until his fingers found the monkey's paw.

It was warm in his hands, One finger had uncurled. Outside, Oz and Miles laughed as another loud thud echoed through the cabin, making Ethan look up.

“I wish I had my friends back”

His shoes vanished instantly leaving the portly teen barefoot. His clothes had also shifted, camp tee becoming a white tank and cargos becoming black sweatpants, every piece of clothing fit him completely wrong.  But he didn’t notice, as looking down, his feet seemed to be moving? His toes grew thicker and longer and his feet became long and broad as they resized to a meaty set of 11s.  Simultaneously a dark tan spread across them and hard callouses formed on the bottoms.

In the span of a breath his whole body gained a similar tan, though he was noticeably paler than the other jock bros. His hands expanded to match his feet and grew into meaty mitts. He stared as veins began to pop out from his skin, starting from his hands and continuing up his arms and throughout his body. 

“No, I don’t want this” he shouted, desperately trying to reach the monkey's paw that had fallen off the bed. 

But the changes didn’t stop there, happening too fast now to stop. A large pectoral shelf jutted out, nipples standing erect in the cool air of the cabin.  He lightly tweaked one with his meatier hands, his brain failing to register the movement. His hands moved down the usual curve of his stomach replaced by rigged abs covered by a light treasure trail. His body began to emit a strong odor, a mix of dried sweat and hormones, helped by the much larger bulge in his sweatpants.

 He grabbed it roughly, feeling the extended length in all its glory. A deep sound coming from his throat, a far cry from the voice of a fat nerd yet to go through puberty. The newly minted bro felt a small pressure in his ears when a small pair of studs appeared and his hair became dark and well groomed. His face got wider and his jaw became square shaped giving him the typical looks of a dumb jock. He wondered why in the world we wouldn’t want to be one as he grabbed his phone to pull up his favorite porno, wanting nothing more than to try out his new equipment.

After finishing Ethan flopped onto the couch, his sweats still sticky. He absentmindedly scrolled through his phone, looking for another, maybe to watch with his bros. Speaking of his bros, Oz and Miles stood in the kitchenette shotgunning diet Pepsis. He shook his head in silent laughter at them before something poked against his thigh.

"Huh?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shriveled monkey's paw. "Yo, check this out."

Oz looked over from the mini fridge. "Dude... what the hell is that?"

Miles immediately sauntered over, eyes lighting up. "Bro, no way. Is that an actual monkey's paw?"

Ethan shrugged. "Found it somewhere, I think."

Oz carefully took it, turning it over in his hands. "This is sick."

"Isn't this one of those things that grants wishes?" Miles asked with a grin. "Like, three wishes and all that cursed magic crap?"

"Probably fake," Oz said, still unable to stop staring at it.

"Even if it is," Ethan laughed, "it's the coolest thing I've found all summer."

The three crowded around the tiny shriveled hand, tossing out increasingly ridiculous wishes and daring each other to try one, none of them realizing two of its fingers were already uncurled. Ethen looked at it, wondering what to wish for, then it hit him.

“I wish everybody here was as cool as us”

The wish had barely left Ethan's lips before the monkey's paw grew almost too hot to hold. He instinctively dropped it onto the couch, where it landed with a dull thud. For a moment, nothing happened. The cabin remained exactly as it was, with Oz and Miles still arguing over whether they could organize a volleyball tournament before dinner.

Then a strange sound rose somewhere outside, like a chant or cheer shouted in deep voices. It wasn't especially unusual at first. Campers were always yelling about something. But another voice answered it from farther down the path, then another from the lake, then several more from the athletic fields until the entire camp seemed to hum with too loud laughter and shouted conversations.

Across the grounds, subtle changes rippled through Camp Cedar Ridge. The campers transforming all at once, awkward postures straightening, Self-conscious expressions melting into easy confidence. Conversations about calorie counts and homesickness drifted naturally into plans for football games, lake competitions, and which cabin was going to dominate the end-of-summer tournament. Everywhere you looked, baseball caps had somehow become more common, camp T-shirts fit broader shoulders, and groups of boys who had barely spoken yesterday now greeted each other with effortless familiarity.

Even the camp itself seemed to adjust around them. The nutrition posters lining the dining hall walls quietly disappeared, replaced by faded championship photos and intramural banners that had hung there for years. The recreation lodge gained battered sweat stained couches and a pair of old refrigerators stocked with sports drinks, while the all of cabins gradually accumulated the sort of clutter that came from dozens of teenage frat boys sharing the same space, duffel bags left open, footballs under bunks, hoodies draped over chairs, protein bars scattered across countertops.

Bodybuilder legal huge counselors walked the paths smiling like it was normal, greeting campers with casual fist bumps instead of reminders about weigh-ins or meal plans. The schedule posted outside the dining hall had changed too. Hiking and nutrition seminars had quietly given way to tournaments, lake relays, and evening socials. 

Oz leaned against the doorway where Ethan stood and looked outside.

"Whatca looking at?" he asked.

Ethen looked at him, his thick brows scrunched up like he was trying to sort though his meager thoughts. "Just thought this place was…different, ya know,"

Miles laughed at this, shouting loudly from his place unto the fridge, “bro, it’s always been like this. Welcome to frat camp!”

A tall blonde guy wearing a holey hoodie and basketball shorts stopped at the steps of the boys cabin. He set down several cases of cheap beer and leaned against the railing, tossing a football up and down.

"Is this cabin six?" He asked. "Heard y’all was having a big party tonight."

"Yeah, bro come on in," Ethan replied, remembering him and Oz telling some of the other cabins to come around tonight.  

Word had seemed to spread on its own after that. As the sun dipped lower behind the trees, more boys drifted toward Cabin Six in small groups, some bringing snacks, others carrying speakers or folding chairs they had borrowed from somewhere. A camp wide party quickly forming, the cabin filling with conversation that spilled loudly out onto the porch and into the clearing beyond.

Watching everyone arrive, Ethan reached into his pocket and absentmindedly felt the monkey's paw. It had gone cold and when he pulled it out, all three fingers were tightly curled once more, looking like nothing more than an old, dried curiosity. He stared at it for a second before tossing it into the back of a drawer, where it disappeared beneath a pile of forgotten odds and ends. He had a rager to throw, this was frat camp after all.

The package arrived after three days.

He, a twenty-year-old British guy, with short brown hair and an average build, took it from the postman with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment. He had almost forgotten about that website. That pop-up that had appeared magically on his phone. "A pair of underwear that will change your life." He had uploaded the photo in his black underwear, the old and worn-out ones, and they had promised him a free pair. In exchange for an "after" photo and a review.

It seemed like a joke. And yet the package was there.

He opened it in his bedroom, with the curtains drawn. Inside, a pair of gray underwear. Dark gray, almost charcoal. Thick, soft fabric that seemed almost rough to the touch. Simple. Masculine.

He took them in his hands. The fabric was warm. Inexplicably warm.

A tingling ran through his fingers. The fabric seemed to vibrate.

A thought crossed his mind: Try them on.

He didn't think twice. He took off his worn-out black boxer briefs. He put on the new ones.

The gray fabric clung to his hips. Perfect. Too perfect. As if they had been custom-made. A sensation of warmth spread from his lower abdomen.

Then it began.

An itch. Insane. On his chest, which had been smooth before. He scratched himself, but the itching got worse. He looked down. Hair was sprouting on his chest. Thick. Dark. Coarse. Growing before his eyes. Scattered at first, then increasingly dense, covering his entire chest.

"Ah... ahh..." He moaned, his voice cracking.

The gray fabric began to tighten. He looked at his thighs. The muscles were swelling. His quadriceps were exploding, his calves widening. The fat on his legs was melting away, replaced by hard, dense fibers.

His back arched. His shoulder blades snapped into place. His lats swelled like two wings.

His hands grabbed the edge of the bed. The bones in his fingers cracked, widened, his knuckles becoming thicker. The tendons emerged like ropes beneath the skin.

His jaw widened. His chin became massive. His forehead lowered, his eyebrows thickened. His nose widened. His teeth clenched.

"Ugh... AH!"

A deep moan. His voice had changed. It was lower, rougher. Almost animalistic.

The hair spread. On his arms. On his legs. On his chest. Thick, coarse, dark. Covering his skin like fur.

His shoulders widened. One meter. One meter and ten. One meter and twenty. His collarbones snapped into place. His arms became trunks. His biceps exploded, his triceps swelled. The veins surfaced, thick as ropes, bluish beneath his now-taut skin.

His chest rose. His pectorals became two massive, heavy shields, covered in thick dark hair. Every breath made them rise and fall.

His abs emerged. A wall of hard flesh, eight squares carved beneath the hair that descended from his chest to his pubic area.

His waist narrowed. His buttocks exploded, two hard and massive spheres.

And his penis. He felt his penis grow. Swell. Lengthen. Become thick. Massive. It pressed against the gray underwear, forming an enormous, heavy bulge. The fabric stretched, almost tearing.

"Ah... fuck... AH!"

One final jolt. His entire body contracted. His muscles tensing. His spine snapping into place. Sweat pouring in streams, copious, hot.

Then silence.

He was still sitting on the bed. But the bed seemed smaller.

He looked at his reflection in the window. He was enormous. He didn't recognize himself.

Broad shoulders, a massive, hairy chest, thick, veiny arms, legs like columns. His face had changed. A massive jaw, a low forehead, a glassy stare. His brown hair had become darker, thicker. A beard had sprouted on his chin, unkempt, bristly. He looked like a thirty-year-old man. A Neanderthal. A modern caveman.

His skin, once smooth, was now covered in hair everywhere. Chest, arms, legs, back. Thick, coarse, dark. He looked like a beast.

He stood up. His muscles were heavy. His body was too large. His hands, which had once been normal, were now paws. Thick fingers, broad palms.

"I... I'm..." His voice was low, hoarse. "...big..."

He looked at himself in the mirror. He raised his arms. His biceps swelled, monstrous. The hair under his arms was thick, black. The smell of sweat filled the room. Strong. Masculine. Animalistic.

He touched his chest. The hair was coarse, bristly. The skin underneath was warm, stretched over the muscles.

A thought crossed his mind. It wasn't a complicated thought. It was simple. Primitive.

I'm strong. I'm big.

He touched his bulge. It was enormous. Heavy. His hand could barely wrap around it. A rush of excitement ran through him.

His brain seemed slower. Words were difficult. But the muscles. The muscles were everything.

He looked at his face in the mirror. The unkempt beard, the dull eyes, the massive jaw. He was stupid. He knew it. But he was strong.

"I... I like..." He mumbled, with a silly smile. "I like being big."

A loud, guttural burp escaped him. He laughed by himself, like a child.

He felt his phone vibrate. A message. He ignored it. There were more important things now. Like looking in the mirror and watching his muscles contract. Like touching his hairy chest. Like smelling the scent of his sweat.

The introverted boy was gone. Now there was a man. A man of muscles, hair, and little brains.

Four friends debate the latest gay dating app to hit the market. Four friends inevitably become walking advertisements for the very same app. Remember, What’s Good for the Gandr is Good for You!

Here's one for all you droney himbo fans! Average gay friend group into four Adonises literally molded to be the perfect men for Gandr’s supernaturally expanding user base. Hope you enjoy! -Occam

(L to R) Sven - Blaine - Clint - Guy

“It’s called Gandr! I’ve heard nothing but good things! Besides, I’ve been obsessed with the founder since he guest judged on Drag Race!” Clint held out his phone showing an ad for the newest dating app to hit the mobile store. “And it’s not even just for dating! It’s for the lifestyle!”

His friends are nonplussed. Swirling a drink in his hands, Blaine rolls his eyes. “Have you heard anything about it that wasn’t from an ad? I mean- Girl. Obviously it’s not made with guys like us in mind? Like, fuck look at those guy, they wouldn’t seven give Sven a second look unless it was to laugh at him!”

Clad in his usual deep v-neck and squinting at the screen, Sven shrugs in agreement before speaking up himself. “Dunno about this one Clint, something about it feels off? But you know me, I’m not really about apps and shit.”

Huddled around the phone in their favorite haunt, a lowkey gay bar-cum-brunch spot, the group continues bickering about their interest in reality star Chad Gleeson’s latest venture. Taking little part in the chatter, while his cohort debates whether or not this is a cash grab or a genuine attempt to build community online, Guy is simply staring blankly at the disembodied oiled up torsos still scrolling past on Clint’s phone. 

Oliver had been even quieter than usual for the past ten minutes. Which wasn’t unusual per se, but this silence felt different than usual. He looked between his friends. 

Noah looked like a Barbarian king with how he sat draped across his chair like it was a throne. Ethan lounged against him, basically hanging off of the ginger hunk’s bulging muscles, his hand sometimes even finding its way towards the overwhelmingly large outline of his cock. And Marcus? Marcus resembled a seven-foot holy knight straight out of a stained-glass artwork.

Oliver adjusted the sleeves of his oversized sweater nervously.

“You guys seriously don’t think tonight feels… weird?”

Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.

Noah blinked slowly.

“Weird how?”

Oliver opened his mouth.

Paused.

Because the problem was impossible to explain.

According to every memory in his head, Noah had always been enormous. Ethan had always looked like an elven thirst trap. Marcus had always been built like a cathedral guardian with the personality of an overfriendly saint.

And yet, some small part of Oliver’s brain insisted that the room hadn’t looked like this before. That Noah hadn’t always accidentally crushed door handles and chuckled dumbly about it. That Ethan hadn’t always spent so much time caressing the Barbarian’s muscle chest while talking. That Marcus hadn’t always looked like he could just throw someone over his shoulder and carry them through a battlefield.

Adrian watched from behind his DM screen. Every time he wove magic, the last person to transform would always notice something subconsciously. There was always some resistance to incomplete narratives.

“Probably just sensory overload.”, Marcus offered as a solution. 

“Yeah, the musk from those two must have you feeling light-headed again.”, Ethan added, one of his delicate hands tracing circles around Noah’s nipple. Noah just nodded, his hand slipping towards Ethan’s ass, his fuckbuddy leaning closer towards him immediately.

Oliver frowned. Sure, the two of them were always incredibly flirtatious with one another, but tonight felt even worse than usual.

Adrian just smiled. “You turn, Ollie.”

Oliver flinched, hating it when people called him that.

“I’m gonna play a Bard.” 

Adrian just smiled, definitely agreeing that a charming Bard would round out their group nicely. “Okay, then roll for Strength first.”

Oliver nodded and rolled the die.

12

There was no dramatic change like what happened to the other three. Some muscle was added to his frame, but in contrast with the muscular powerhouses that were Noah and Marcus, his body stayed leaner and more toned. 

Oliver relaxed in his seat. The sense of tenseness that had been hanging around him finally eased, now that the magic was directly affecting him. He didn’t mind people looking at his body all that much, not feeling the need to hide it away any longer. Not that he thought he ever had.

“Dexterity.”, Adrian said, nodding at his friend’s body language.

16

The transformation flowed through Oliver beautifully, reshaping his body with artistic precision.

His waist tightened slightly, while his muscles leaned out with athletic definition. He still didn’t have the bulky size of his two friends, but he also wasn’t as small and lithe as Ethan. His body somehow found the perfect balance between looking invitingly soft and masculine.

Oliver had become a twunk, a picture book definition of one even. His legs had lengthened slightly, his height now sitting a comfortable 6’1. Not so tall that it was intimidating, but tall enough to show he wasn’t a pushover. His movements now carried a certain fluidity, grace and sense of control with them, just enough to subtly draw the eye of anyone watching.

Noah leaned a little closer to inspect him, in a way that made Ethan look slightly jealous.

“Are you seriously checking out Ollie’s ass again when I’m right next to you?”, the twinky elf complained, Noah leaning back and shrugging his shoulders apologetically in response.

Oliver didn’t recoil at the nickname quite as much this time. And Noah did have a point in checking out his butt. While not quite as large or bouncy as Ethan’s bubble butt, his own ass was pert, perfectly harmonizing with his graceful movements. It was the kind of ass that looked both breedable and like it could throw some serious force behind a pounding.

Adrian looked amused at the situation, already liking the new group dynamic before the changes even fully finalized.

“Constitution.”, he said softly and watched the die bounce on the hardwood.

18

The change hit him like a freight train. Oliver always had had an unimpressive dick, but that was a thing of the past now.

While the transformation also made him look like he was brimming with vitality, his skin seeming warmer and less pale, his posture looser and his body language more confident and downright tempting, the real change was happening between his lean legs.

He didn’t quite have the size of Noah and Marcus, having rolled slightly lower, but there was no denying that the monstercock growing on the Bard was one of the biggest around, only half an inch shorter than Marcus’ and slightly thinner than Noah’s. Undeniably huge, but somehow seeming more manageable next to the two of them.

And not only that. The transformation had also given him an infamous libido. While Marcus fucked anyone who asked and Noah mostly stuck to plowing Ethan’s experienced ass, Oliver had become something of the man whore of the group. While still being pretty shy overall, his perfect build and incredible cock and ass never failed to secure the versatile lover a date for the night.

Adrian just smiled behind his screen. He hadn’t planned for this, but definitely welcomed his friend coming out of his shell to secure some experience. Especially with his character sheet only half finished. “Intelligence.”

Oliver grabbed the die quickly, eager to get his friends to stop staring at his now obvious bulge, even though his 10 incher was the second smallest of the player group.

14

The transformation settled behind the Bard’s eyes instantly.

He wasn’t hyper-intellectual like a wizard would be. Or strategically brilliant like Marcus. But he became a quick thinker, incredibly articulate. And definitely more creative. His room back home changed, several half finished songs and poems appearing. His quick wit also gave him sharper humour.

And he almost instinctively got better at reading people. Understanding emotional nuance felt easier now. Like he always knew at a glance what people needed. How to handle a conversation better. With his new intelligence and humour, the Bard became almost socially magnetic, despite his unchanged charisma.

Something that became very obvious when Noah, who had been rather focussed on Ethan before, started looking at Oliver more, causing the shy Bard to blush and get flustered, the attention of the overwhelmingly manly Barbarian still a bit much for him.

But that’s what the last two stats would be there for.

“Wisdom.”, Adrian prompted from behind his DM screen, watching as his changing friend rolled the die.

13

The change was subtle.

Unlike Noah or Marcus, Oliver’s sense of self remained strong. His emotional awareness sharpened further rather than collapsing. He became more perceptive of moods, tension, attraction, discomfort.

More emotionally intelligent.

And significantly more aware of what effect he had on others.

Oliver looked around the table slowly. At Ethan practically sprawled across Noah. At Noah’s huge hand still resting possessively against Ethan’s thigh. At Marcus unconsciously smiling whenever anyone else looked happy. Then at Adrian calmly observing all of them.

Oliver tilted his head slightly. “…You know,” he murmured, “the vibe at this table has gotten extremely charged.”

Ethan immediately lost it laughing. Noah grinned. Marcus looked confused for about two seconds before understanding abruptly dawned on him.

“Oh.”

His ears turned red.

Oliver smirked as reality settled around them. He had always been great at reading the vibe of a room. And right now the tension in the air was basically palpable.

And now only the decisive stat of his class remained. “Charisma!”, Adrian announced sharply, with unusual drama in his voice, the magic user urging his already gorgeous friend on to finalise the changes made to the group.

In a fittingly long slow circle the die spun across the table before settling.

20

“Critical success!”, Oliver cheered as the atmosphere in the room changed.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Ollie’s face became as gorgeous as his body, ass and cock. High cheekbones, strong but graceful brows, a strong but pretty nose, thick kissable lips. He didn’t have the ethereal look of Ethan the Elf or the overpowering rugged masculinity of Noah. He somehow sat in the perfect middle spot. Like someone had looked up masculine beauty and decided to crank the definition up to 11. 

And it wasn’t just his face that changed. Everything about him seemed flirtatious and welcoming. His sparkling white smile, that was more than the smile of every boy next door from every teen rom-com. His voice that became rich and musical at the same time, masculine and melodious without sounding artificial. Even the eye-contact with his expressive brown eyes now oozed with warmth and playful awareness, a single glance enough to make people feel desired, seen and interesting.

His every gesture became charged with intentionality. Not in a teasingly flirtatious way like Ethan, but rather in a way that felt awfully magnetic and almost impossible to resist. His every laugh made people feel like their best self.

And the memories of Ollie and his friends reflected that. Ollie was the undisputed heartthrob on campus, even the straightest of jocks falling for him constantly. It was just impossible not to. 

The Bard would constantly disappear from parties with strangers, take guys and gals home whenever he went to a bar and leave only well deserved legends and rumours behind. He wasn’t a fuck machine like Noah or a power bottom like Ethan. He was like the Kamasutra had decided to become human and evolve new tricks.

The mix of his absurd Constitution and perfect Charisma had fused in the best way possible. Ollie always gave people exactly what they needed, even if they didn’t know it themselves. Helping a girl get over her toxic ex-boyfriend with the most enthusiastic romantic fuck of her life? Helping a homophobic jock come out of the closet by giving him the best ass he’d ever have? Or helping a shy nerd come out of his shell by feeling desired and popping his cherry in the most loving way? All of those were now stories that were absolutely true about the extraordinarily skilled, endlessly versatile lover that was Ollie. 

And the best part about it was that the Bard didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts. People genuinely liked him and treated him more like a treasure that they wouldn’t dare to keep for themselves, genuinely happy with the experience they had with the urban legend sex magician.

And while everyone else found themselves lost in those memories, Marcus found himself trying and failing not to stare. His own terrible Wisdom role had left him absolutely vulnerable to Ollie’s incredible Charisma. Something the Bard was very much aware of.

Not in a predatory way. Marcus was the one person that Ollie allowed himself to tease … a lot. And since the paladin found himself agreeing to basically anything if asked nicely enough, the two of them had had their fair share of nights together in the past, something even the group’s gigolo found himself enjoying endlessly.

Oliver winked at the blushing paladin and smiled. Maybe tonight would be another one of those nights where he’d end up with Marcus. But who could really tell.

—-------------------------------

Epilogue

Adrian quietly sat back behind the DM screen, watching the final party dynamic settle perfectly into place.

The barbarian and elf draped across each other openly now.

The gigantic gullible paladin blushing whenever the bard smiled at him.

And the bard himself sitting confidently at the center of the emotional gravity well he’d become.

Four completed archetypes. Four very changed men. Four people still passionate about Dungeons and Dragons, now more than ever since they had somehow ended up incidentally creating characters that were basically themselves.

One rewritten reality.

And only Adrian remembered how ordinary they had all been a few hours ago. How unhappy they had been with their lives. 

Noah, who had been relentlessly bullied by the football team just this morning had become bigger than all of them. No more getting shoved into lockers when your shoulders are wider than three of those combined.

The often turned down Ethan finding himself next to someone who actually liked his flirting, revelling in the feeling of being the target of it even. And surely people wouldn’t dare mess with the enormous Barbarian’s quasi-boyfriend.

Marcus, who had been plagued by complexes for the majority of his life, would never hear a word of complaint about his incredible body any more. And maybe people would finally respect his hulking mass and brilliant mind now.

And the shy and easily hurt Oliver? He was now way too busy showing people the absolute heights of sexual delight to care whether people talked shit about his art online. The praise he got for it after showing it off to one of his lovers being the most important feedback he could ask for.

Marcus watched Ethan and Noah bicker across the table with growing disbelief. Somehow the atmosphere between the two, which had always been oddly complicated and loaded with tension, had become aggressively flirtatious ever since they started the character creation half an hour ago.

The barbarian lounged back in his chair, massive arms folded across his titanic chest while Ethan leaned against the table beside him, one hip cocked casually, presenting his butt. Their personalities fit together disturbingly well somehow.

“You keep touching my arms.”, Noah rumbled.

“Because they’re like battleship cannons.”

“They’re not…”

“You’re massive!”

Noah grinned at the compliment.

Marcus stared. Oliver stared. The situation wasn’t odd per se. Ethan always flirted with Noah constantly. And of course Noah liked the attention despite himself. But it somehow felt even more intense than usual today.

The only person who remembered otherwise sat calmly behind the DM screen, watching with calm fascination as Ethan absentmindedly rested a hand against Noah’s solid shoulder while reading over his own character sheet. The Barbarian didn’t react. No one but Adrian noticed  Noah slightly leaning into the touch. 

Finally having enough of watching Marcus rolled his eyes. “Okay … my turn..”

“What’re you playing?”, Oliver asked as Marcus nervously readjusted his glasses. 

“Paladin.”

Noah snorted approvingly. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Marcus grinned shyly at the Barbarian’s enthusiasm.

“Big holy knight aesthetic. Heavy armor. Big mace. The works.”

“Fits you weirdly well.”, Ethan admitted, still half draped against Noah’s chair.

Adrian nodded.

The enchanted parchment shimmered, having already instantly accepted the Paladin archetype. Marcus picked up the dice and Adrian nodded at him to roll. “Strength first.”

The die rolled across the wood.

17

“Ha, still stronger than you!”, Noah barked, ignorant of the transformation hitting his black friend.

Marcus groaned slightly as his body surged upwards in the chair, his old heaviness vanishing almost instantly under slabs of dense, heroic muscle. His already wide shoulders becoming even wider, working together with his broadening chest to stretch out his shirt. His poor shirt almost lost the race to adapt, trying to fit the enormous torso that was quickly accentuated by the thick muscle filling out his arms and thighs. His shorts almost exploded off of the new tree trunk legs before adjusting.

Unlike Noah’s enormous rugged Barbarian size, Marcus transformed into something cleaner, something knightly. Not much smaller than the massive ginger mountain of a man that Ethan seemed hellbent on climbing, but somehow having a more heroic feel to it. He wasn’t even much shorter than the towering Barbarian, maybe only an inch or so in difference in height, which only made him look broader.

And as always Ethan the greedy twink looked between the two like he’d won the lottery. Sure he was mainly preoccupied with the rugged Barbarian Noah, but another piece of major eye candy certainly didn’t hurt.

Adrian smiled, loving the direction his magic was taking the party. “Next roll. Dexterity.”

Marcus nodded and rolled again.

The die stopped.

10

This time the transformation didn’t really have an imposing effect. 

Definitely nothing like the Strength roll. Instead Marcus’ movements refined slightly. While almost as huge as Noah, the Paladin’s imposing frame now moved with controlled precision and grace, contrasting the Barbarian’s heavier groundedness nicely. Sure he wasn’t a graceful dancer like Ethan, but he carried himself with disciplined athletic coordination nonetheless.

Like someone who trained for swordsmanship. Or a mace fight for that matter. His posture looked balanced, stable. Confident even, which was especially surprising seeing how he still had his old slightly awkward personality.

Another indicator of that being that his nervous habit of adjusting his glasses still hadn’t changed. Though now he did it with paw like massive hands while Noah laughed at him for having the posture of a huge boy scout.

“Oh shut up, doofus. That just about makes him the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”, Ethan countered playfully punching Noah’s dense shoulder that the elven twink was leaning against. And while he barely felt the punch, the statement made Noah frown.

“Rude.”

“You’re still winning overall.”, Ethan calmed him, rubbing the swollen biceps to calm the beast.

“Good.”, the Barbarian said, looking genuinely pleased. Though that might have been because of the fond, rewarding, almost practiced looking smile Ethan threw him with the compliment.

The physical contact between them kept escalating too. Small things. Casual things. Ethan’s hand on Noah’s forearm while laughing. Noah resting a huge arm across the back of Ethan’s chair. Their knees bumping under the table and staying there.

Neither seemed remotely self-conscious about it anymore. Reality had already rewritten their chemistry into something longstanding and familiar.

Marcus watched them with amusement, “They’re gonna be making out by session three.”

“We’re sitting right here,” Noah pointed out.

Ethan tilted his head.

“Would that bother you?”

Noah opened his mouth.

Paused.

Thought very hard for someone with an Intelligence of five.

“…Not really.”

A statement that made Ethan look very pleased, like a child that had just been promised dessert. Meanwhile Oliver couldn’t help but laugh.

The grimoire pulsed warmly against Adrian’s thigh below the table, prompting him to urge for the next change. “Constitution.”

Marcus rolled and the die settled almost immediately.

19

And just like what had happened to Noah before, the transformation surged through him hard.

His already massive frame thickened further, becoming even denser with powerful muscle, making him look more like a superhuman fantasy hero than an ordinary hunk.

He just radiated vitality now. Not quite the dense enormity of the Barbarian, but rather a beacon of power and life, just a picture perfect valiant Paladin.

One part of him was especially radiating life, a part of him that now threatened to burst through the slowly adapting crotch of his shorts as it was ballooning with size.

Marcus shifted in his seat uncomfortably as his mind quickly acknowledged and accepted the sensation of now being hung like a horse. While Noah and Marcus had both nailed the same insane roll, there were noticeable differences. Like Marcus’ cock being longer and Noah’s being fatter. Or the Paladin being circumcised, unlike the Barbarian. Though the Paladin did end up with generally larger loads by comparison. Just the energy of life running through him helping a lot with that.

“With rolls like that, you guys are gonna make me feel left behind.”, Ethan complained, looking between the two towering hunks, pouting, “This little elf doesn’t have your stamina.”

“At least you’re pretty.”, Noah offered, “And tiny.”

“You like that I’m tiny.”

The Barbarian’s ears reddened slightly again.

Marcus stared between them.

“…You two flirt like people who already share an apartment.”

“With how often I spent the night at his place, we basically do.”, Ethan chuckled, resting a hand on the blushing Noah’s obvious cock bulge through the sweatpants.

“Intelligence.”, Adrian interrupted the bickering, nodding at Marcus to continue.

16

Marcus straightened. Not really physically, but mentally. 

Behind the glasses sitting on his square jawed, masculine face his eyes sharpened, his thought processes becoming faster and more efficient. A lot more things suddenly made sense to him, connections, patterns and concepts coming easier to him.

Reality adjusted around them all, making that a statement that had always been true. While Noah had been the lovable idiot, Marcus was the brilliant brain of the group, though still lovable. His mind was simply so strategic and educated. So much so that he wasn’t teaching beginner’s computer classes in this version of reality. But rather highly advanced courses for seniors. And effortlessly too.

Adrian watched Marcus with a lot of interest. He was becoming downright dangerously perfect. With his towering body, handsome face, sharp intellect, enormous cock and calm but commanding voice he was basically shaping up to become the leader of the group. But the DM just grinned, knowing that a third of the stats hadn’t been rolled yet and things could still go awry.

With a smile and a throw at the elf-Barbarian pairing, which now included Ethan having basically abandoned his seat to sit on Noah’s lap, Adrian prompted the next roll. 

“Wisdom.”

Before rolling, one could almost see Marcus running some quick calculations on his odds. 

3

Marcus’ eyes went wide at the disastrously low roll.

But the transformation hit almost immediately after that and the look of shock morphed into a smile.

Not a thoughtful one.

Not a careful one.

Not a dumb one.

A trusting one. An open one.

His posture relaxed dramatically as tension he didn’t even realize he carried simply… vanished. The strategic sharpness remained intact—his Intelligence stayed exactly where it was—but his skepticism disappeared almost completely. His eyes softened. His need to question things evaporated.

He by no means became dumb. But he lacked caution now. The entire table could suddenly recall story after story of Marcus getting into trouble simply because he was too trusting of people. Especially people he knew and liked. Like if Ethan told him there was a buried treasure outside, Marcus would grab a shovel and start digging. He wasn’t an idiot himbo like Noah. Just really gullible, despite all his intelligence.

Adrian smiled behind the screen, finding the newly crystallized character flaw fitting beautifully with the archetype of the devoted Paladin. It also fit in beautifully with the increasingly touchy pair on the other side of the table.

“Last roll.”, the DM said, “Charisma.”

Marcus nodded obediently.

13

Unlike Ethan who could tell people the sky was red and they’d believe him simply because of his personality being so magnetic, or Noah, who always seemed to be the heart of a party, Marcus’ transformation wasn’t quite as severe.

His charisma manifested as presence. Authority. Warmth. The air around him suddenly saturated with trustworthiness, inspiration and an overwhelming feeling of kindness and safety. He’s become the kind of guy who people wanted to confess to. The kind of guy people wanted to trust.

His face changed too. It lacked the raw ruggedness of the Barbarian, but had a softer look, one that showed he smiled a lot, despite his lantern jaw. His eyes darkened slightly to the colour of hot cocoa, making him permanently look like a very playful golden retriever with how disastrously low his Wisdom throw had been.

“At least that one’s decent.”, Marcus chuckled, the sound relaxing the group, his aura of warmth grounding the intensity of his Barbarian friend.

Adrian watched the character solidify. A gigantic holy knight with immense strength and stamina, sharp intelligence, almost nonexistent skepticism, and overwhelming inspirational charm. Beautiful in a noble, masculine way rather than Noah’s rugged dominance or Ethan’s elegant seductiveness.

“Guess we’re gonna go with an emotional support tank.”, Ethan grinned, knowing full well that that was how their group dynamic had always worked. Though it was fun seeing their real-life dynamic transition into the game and making Marcus a “big lawful puppy” as Noah so eloquently put it.

Adrian’s eyes drifted towards the last player left as the grimoire pulsed warmly beneath the table.

Ethan pointed at Noah next to him.

“Not fair. That doofus managed to roll himself!”, he accused, taking his own dice.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.”, the Barbarian answered, flexing his massive biceps and chuckling.

“I am jealous!”

“You should be.”

The fact that the line somehow sounded smooth instead of unbearably cringe made Ethan groan loudly into his hands. He had always been envious of Noah’s effortless charisma, his own attitude not even managing to be half as likable as Noah’s.

Adrian was still surprised by how well the spell had worked out. Noah had become enormous.

Not just muscular—overwhelmingly masculine. Thick forearms. Huge chest. Powerful thighs spread confidently beneath the table, framing an unbelievably huge cock. Every movement radiated relaxed physical dominance. Even sitting still, Noah seemed to occupy twice as much space as everyone else

And somehow the ginger giant barely seemed aware of it.

“Alright. I’m next.”, Ethan proclaimed, “If Noah is playing the sexiest Barbarian alive, I’m absolutely not staying human.”

“What are you playing?”, the DM asked.

“Elven ranger.”

“Tiny elf twink.”, Noah chuckled loudly.

Everyone laughed at the joke, just Adrian’s eyes flickering faintly. “Roll in order then.”

Strength was first and with a dramatic gesture Ethan rolled the die.

6

The transformation began immediately. The Asian nerd’s already slender frame started narrowing even further. His shoulders lost breadth, his waist tightening dramatically. Any lingering bulk he might have had simply folding into his frame, leaving him lean and compact instead of weak looking.

His limbs lengthened subtly, elegant and graceful. Even his hair lightened subtly, his features losing some of their Asian heritage as he shifted more towards the aesthetic of a blonde elf.

The contrast between Noah and Ethan was astonishing. While Noah now resembled a Barbarian warlord, the man sitting next to him looked small enough to effortlessly get thrown over one of Noah’s massive shoulders.

Without even needing to be told, Ethan rolled the dice again to determine his Dexterity, his jealousy of Noah’s enormous size fueling his ambition.

17

The effect hit instantly. Ethan’s body refined itself with almost artistic precision, every moment suddenly becoming fluid, catlike and purposeful. His body became even tighter, filling out again slightly with lean athletic definition forming across his slim frame. It wasn’t bulky muscle, but the perfect, proportioned build of a dancer … or a ranger for that matter.

His lower body didn’t miss out on the change, his hips becoming ever so slightly wider, making way for his ass. Ethan twisted in his seat to see why his chair suddenly felt extra cushioned, finding the answer with one look.

The Dexterity roll had given him an absurdly round and firm bubble butt beneath his jeans, almost mythologically perfect. Noah had predicted it earlier, but the rolls were now making Ethan into the poster boy of the Elven twink community. Without the other players really noticing of course.

Noah stared openly now. “Damn.”, he said in his foghorn like voice, readjusting his enormous horsecock through his grey sweatpants..

“Fuck yeah, great roll on Dex.”, Ethan exclaimed, squirming his big breedable butt cheeks into the seat.

Every one of his movements was smooth. Graceful. And teasing the horsehung Barbarian Bull next to him without fully meaning to, Noah’s beautiful green eyes following his every move.

Adrain noticed thiis immediately, finding it incredibly interesting that apparently the magic had decided to connect the Barbarian and the elf archetypes.

“Constitution next, Captain Bubblebutt.”, Adrian chuckled, Ethan picking up the dice again.

7

The change was smaller physically this time. Ethan’s lean body lost some resilience. The athletic sharpness remained, but he now looked more delicate overall—less durable, easier to exhaust physically.

And beneath the table the change didn’t stop, Ethan abruptly freezing. Like Noah before, he noticed something settling, despite reality adapting seamlessly. Noah noticed first.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

“Is it your tiny elf dick again?”, Noah teased, grabbing his own swollen tube of manmeat, “Don’t worry, little guy, I got enough cock for both of us.”

“Shut up.”

The words came automatically, but Ethan’s expression betrayed something else entirely. Because despite the embarrassment, his gaze kept drifting back toward the barbarian. Toward Noah’s huge thighs.

Toward the visible outline beneath the sweatpants.

The attraction hadn’t fully manifested yet, but the groundwork was there.

Adrian smiled faintly.

The elf was bonding to his chosen archetype perfectly, despite Ethan trying very hard to act unaffected.

It lasted maybe thirty seconds.

“Okay,” he said, crossing one long leg over the other while very deliberately not looking at Noah, “next stat.”

Noah smirked knowingly from across the table. The barbarian transformation had left him with surprisingly strong instincts despite his diminished intellect, and one thing was becoming increasingly obvious:

The elf liked what he saw.

“Intelligence.”, Adrian said, watching the die bounce as Ethan rolled.

12

Unlike his physical transformations, this one settled more gently.

He didn’t become mentally simple like Noah, Ethan just finding his mind slightly nudged. He remained clever, quick-witted and sharp-tongued. But his intelligence changed flavour. becoming less academically obsessive and more emotionally and socially intuitive, nicely aligning with his elven twink persona.

He became acutely aware of how his flirtatious and teasing remarks affected people, especially the gigantic simple-minded Barbarian Bull that was Noah. Who had been staring at the newly created twink (who Ethan had always been in this version of reality) as if seeing him for the first time.

Adrian just leaned back in his chair with renewed interest in the pair. 

While Ethan understood what he was doing perfectly well, Noah’s simple mind understood it on a far more instinctual level. A very dangerous combination really.

“Wisdom.”, the DM prompted. Ethan didn’t Ethan watch the die settle, winking at Noah.

10

There was barely any transformation this time. The stat didn’t change Ethan. It stabilised him.

Unlike Noah, Ethan retained his independence and self-awareness. He could still judge situations normally, still make decisions freely, still understand consequences.

Which made what happened next significantly more embarrassing for him.

Because now there was no stat-based excuse. The attraction was simply genuine. 

Ethan looked toward Noah again.

Toward the barbarian’s enormous shoulders and relaxed dominance. Toward the heavy musculature stretching his tank top. Toward the rough copper stubble framing an unfairly handsome face.

And then, inevitably—

Toward the visible bulge beneath the sweatpants.

Ethan swallowed.

Marcus immediately noticed.

“Oh my God,” he said.

Ethan snapped toward him.

“Don’t.”

“You’re down catastrophic.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

Noah barked out another deep laugh. This had become a regular point of teasing over the last couple campaigns. 

The sound alone made Ethan visibly flush.

Adrian watched the magical narrative threads tighten further.

“Last roll.”, he said with amusement, “Charisma.”

19

“Awesome!”, Ethan said as his already pretty features refined into something ethereal, almost unreal. 

The last traces of his Asian heritage were swallowed by the elven side with renewed vigor. His skin cleared, glowing flawlessly. His lips softened. His eyes became brighter, more expressive, turning blue as his hair took on a stylish cut, lightening to honey gold, that perfectly accentuated his sun kissed tan. 

Every one of his glances carried intent. Every smile landed perfectly. His voice became smooth and warm like velvet.

And somehow the twinky elven aesthetic crystallized completely around him without becoming cartoonish. He now looked like the physical embodiment of every fantasy archer prince stereotype brought to life: slim waist, elegant limbs, graceful posture, pretty-but-still-masculine beauty. 

And a spectacular bubble butt that Noah was now very obviously staring at, his anaconda of a cock stirring under the table.

The changes to reality solidified and an unresolved, unspoken chemistry settled between the towering mountain of a man and the flirtatious twink.

Ethan leaned lazily against the table looking over to Noah. “So, big guy. You gonna keep staring?”

Noah’s ears burned under the football cap. “Maybe…”, he rumbled with his impossibly manly voice.

The table exploded at his awkward reply, even his immense charisma utterly outclassed by one tiny elf with a breedable bubble butt.

Except Adrian.

Adrian merely watched the rewritten world settle around his completed elf and his barbarian.

The party dynamic was already beginning to form itself naturally.

The entire table gulped audibly as Adrian handed them the character sheets. Even though they didn’t know about the magic, something about the sheets felt weird to them. However that feeling was quick to pass as the excitement of creating new characters took over.

Noah went first, basically vibrating as he grabbed the dice.

“Okay,” he said, grinning nervously. “I’m doing it. Full commitment. Human barbarian.”

Ethan burst out laughing immediately.

“You? A barbarian?”

“I can play against type!”

“You look like you lose fights against folding chairs.”

Noah flipped him off, but blushed slightly, looking at Adrian for the okay to start the character creation.

“Roll in order.”, Adrian nodded softly, “Strength first.”

The D20 clattered against the old wooden table, everyone’s eyes drawn to the shiny piece of plastic.

18

For a second nothing happened. And suddenly Noah inhaled sharply as he sat upright   in his chair, his posture suddenly remarkably straight.

Underneath his hoodie his shoulders shot out to the sides as meat piled onto his frame, the fabric just barely adjusting in time to not get completely shredded under the pressure of the frail nerd’s inflation. His forearms thickened, his biceps bringing the sleeves devastatingly close to breaking point, veins pushing out against his skin. His hands flexing as they grew to the size of dinner plates, powerful and manly. Then his chest expanded, pulling the fabric already struggling with his cannonball arms tightly against his enormous pecs.

The chair creaked.

“Oh my God,” Oliver whispered.

Noah lurched upward as another inch—then another—was added to his height. His knees pressed awkwardly against the underside of the table before the transformation settled. Not monstrous. Not absurd. Just overwhelmingly athletic. Broad. Powerful.

Like a heavyweight fighter hidden beneath a nerd’s clothing.

And then reality adjusted.

The others blinked.

New memories appeared, the image of tiny Noah disappearing like ice under the midday sun, the awkward ginger runt replaced with the overwhelmingly manly mountain of muscle who acted like a tiny nerd. Only Adrian retained his old memories, smiling faintly at the awkward way the towering Barbarian warrior sat there, squeezing his enormous bulk at the table and still trying and failing to take up less space than his intensely huge frame demanded.

Noah himself looked oddly surprised by his new size, carefully balling and relaxing his fists a couple of times, almost seeming unsettled by the size of his own muscles. Only the sound of Adrian’s smooth voice ripped the Barbarian-sized nerd out of his stupor.

“Dexterity.”

Noah nodded and rolled again.

8

The change was subtler this time. 

His posture and movement looked less precise, less graceful. It really appeared like the low roll on Dexterity had grounded the mountain sized geek somewhat. His posture now seemed more confident and solid, heavier even, his behaviour now showing less nervous and anxious shifting. Like someone who relied on power over grace.

A water bottle slipped from his grasp a second later.

“Jesus, dude.”, Ethan laughed, “I still can’t get over the fact that a guy that’s built like a linebacker has finally dipped his toe into playing a Barbarian after all these years. Speaking of which, are you still hellbent on getting on the football team? Coach must be getting fed up with your clumsy ass constantly trying out.” 

Noah just blushed, his ears nearly as ginger as his hair, which he now hid under a cap of the local football team. With his clumsiness he didn’t make for the best player, but he’d tried enough times to like the sport.

Adrian watched from behind his DM screen as reality settled around Noah, curiously observing the mental changes that had begun around the edges. Noah was still Noah … just more.

“Constitution.”, Adrian prompted.

Noah rolled.

The die bounced once. Twice.

19

The effects hit like a freight train this time.

Noah gasped as his frame became denser. Not bigger per se, but more sharply defined, his chest swelling against the fabric and pulling it tight against his mid section, the outline of 6 brick sized abs clearly visible. Even his neck thickened, a prominent Adam's apple pushing into existence and lowering the Barbarian’s voice from a soft tenor to a booming bass.

Even a beard forced itself into existence against his more masculine lantern jaw. Not the teenage scruff he had been able to grow before, but a thick manly beard that looked utterly right on his rugged face.

Noah looked amazing. Not delicate. Not pretty-boy handsome. Dangerously handsome. Like some mythological northern warrior accidentally dropped into a college apartment.

“Hell yeah,”, the incredibly sexy lumberjack said, once again shocking his friends with the foghorn boom of his voice, “Nineteen Con.”

The other three players just nodded. Even sitting down, Noah dominated the room physically now. His shoulders stretched the seams of his hoodie so badly he eventually peeled it off entirely, revealing a black tank top straining across an absurdly broad chest and thick, powerful arms.

The Barbarian shifted in his seat, immediately drawing attention to another result of his roll.

“Dude, can’t you wear underwear for once to DnD? Your sweatpants look ridiculous!”, Ethan complained, trying very hard not to stare at the obvious outline of what was running down his left leg. Noah just blushed, trying to make his footlong soft cock somehow less noticeable through his grey sweatpants. And failing miserably.

Like the rest of him the thing sat heavy, thick and huge off the edge of the chair, even the outline of his bull balls being faintly visible through the fabric trying to cover his crotch.

“Talk about Barbarian Constitution.”, Marcus chuckled.

“Shut up,” Noah muttered.

But he sounded more embarrassed in theory than in practice. The growing confidence from his partially locked-in stats kept blunting his old insecurity before it could fully form.

Adrian quietly watched the magic settle again.

“Keep rolling.”, he said, “Intelligence is next.”

Noah, still feeling high from the absolutely monstrous roll on Constitution, enthusiastically threw the die.

5

The change was immediate.

Noah blinked.

Then blinked again.

The sharpness behind his eyes dulled and he relaxed in his seat. The constant anxious overprocessing vanished instantly as his racing thoughts slowed to a crawl. Adrian just grinned. A Barbarian wasn’t meant to be smart after all. He already had the overwhelming physicality, he didn’t need to think too much.

His posture spread wider in the chair.

Heavy.

Certain.

He looked at his friends with a relaxed and easy smile, confident despite his reduced intelligence.

“Dude, you’re literally playing yourself. Huge in body, but not the brightest bulb.”, Ethan chuckled at his simple friend. Noah just grinned in return and threw up his enormous cannonball biceps in a flex. Reality had settled seamlessly around the giant himbo.

Adrian cleared his throat and nodded towards the dice. “Let’s roll Wisdom next.”

Noah rolled.

6

The effect was subtler but somehow more unsettling.

Noah’s eyes softened immediately.

Not weaker physically—far from it—but more suggestible. More trusting. More willing to follow stronger personalities without questioning them deeply. Especially Adrian. Adrian noticed it at once. So did Ethan.

“Earth to Barbarian,” Ethan muttered. “You’re looking at Adrian weirdly again.”

Noah frowned faintly.

“Huh?”

“You keep waiting for him to talk before doing stuff.”

Noah opened his mouth.

Paused.

Then shrugged.

“Guess he’s the DM.”

Simple.

Logical.

Final.

The room laughed.

Only Adrian understood how profound the shift really was.

Noah’s independent critical resistance had just permanently collapsed. Not mindless obedience. Just reduced willpower. Reduced need to question. The barbarian archetype was crystallizing perfectly. While always physically in charge, he liked for others to take the lead, make suggestions and tell him what to do.

And there was still one stat left.

Charisma.

Adrian folded his hands together behind the DM screen and smiled faintly.

“Last roll.”

Noah rolled the die.

It spun across the wood.

Stopped.

15

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Noah smiled and the entire atmosphere of the room shifted instantly. Not magically glowing. Not supernatural mind control. Just… overwhelming presence.

His posture straightened subtly, massive shoulders rolling back with effortless confidence while his expression relaxed into an easy, rugged charm that looked absurdly natural on him. The lazy grin beneath his copper stubble suddenly carried weight behind it. Warmth. Magnetism.

His face redefined itself, becoming even more devastatingly handsome, manly, rugged. Like his entire look had been designed by someone who wanted to show what copious amounts of testosterone would do to a handsome man’s face.

And reality adapted around him. To the rest of the table Noah had always been overwhelmingly charismatic. He could say the most stupid shit and people would still laugh with him, his entire personality just becoming comfort food, easygoing and welcoming, while never losing the raw sex appeal that made people want to suck his cock or get impaled on his meat hammer within 5 minutes of meeting him.

“Guess I’m just charismatic.”, the massive ginger chuckled dumbly.

The line should have sounded ridiculous.

Instead, all three of them laughed immediately.

Even Adrian almost smiled for real.

The magic settled completely.

The transformation finalized.

Noah Tanner—the nervous valedictorian, comic-shop employee, chronic overthinker—was gone.

Or rather…

Reality now insisted he had never existed in that form at all.

Instead, Noah had always been this. A towering, massively muscular ginger barbarian of a man with movie-star ruggedness, absurd stamina, effortless charm, and the simple confidence of someone who had never spent much time doubting himself. A beautiful brute with long wavy copper hair, heavy stubble, broad hands, thick muscle-packed limbs, and a mind optimized less for critical analysis and more for instinct, confidence, and immediate physical certainty.

And according to everyone’s rewritten memories? He had always been the heart of the group. The guy strangers flirted with constantly. The one who won arguments through sheer presence instead of logic. The one who solved problems by kicking doors open.

Noah himself looked down at the completed character sheet and grinned proudly.

“Damn,” he rumbled. “This dude rules.”

“Our resident himbo literally plays himself.”, Ethan rolled his eyes. “Massive super stud football player, massive super stud barbarian. Tomato, tomato.”

“Still taller than you.”, Noah countered and the room burst out laughing.

And Adrian quietly watched the rewritten world stabilize around the completed barbarian.

One player down.

Three to go.

The grimoire beneath the table pulsed warmly against his knee.

I yelled and shook the kid off me, red on my arm from where he bit me. Luckily for me his big brother had seen the whole thing, thanking me for keeping him from falling after he had tripped. My injury looked like little more than a surface scratch, despite a lot of blood, but the surfer dude insisted on getting alcohol and bandages. 

They turned out to be unnecessary as it seemed the blood must have come from the boy's mouth. My arm didn't have a mark on it. You'd think that would have been the end of it, but the older boy, who introduced himself as bodhi, wanted my name and address, and kept asking me to see some special doctor he knew. I just drove away, not wanting any hippie herbal treatments, and I figured that was the last I would see of them. 

I had forgotten all about the encounter, but a month later, a sudden knock startled me. Answering, I found bodhi waiting on my front porch. My sudden scowl made him step back and raise his hands. "Sorry to bother you. I tracked you down through your license plate." Considering the trouble he must have gone through to find me, I sighed and waited. When I did not invite her in, she said "My... um, lil bro. He like, startled when he started to fall and fear made him react bad to your grab." 

I nodded, hoping to speed him on his merry way. The young man flushed, then said "I know it seemed like nothing, but he really did bite you. And that was your blood." At my dubious look, he continued. "You just healed super fast. It's like the infection doesn't want to be known about" He sighed. "Like a Werewolf curse." OK, he was a nutcase, probably high on weed right now too.

“Um, right. Well, I haven't tried to chase cars, but I'll keep that in mind, OK?" I started to shut the door, only to have him persist. 

"Teddy isn't really my brother. He's my Gramps." That comment made me make a renewed effort to get him to leave. 

"Sir, I need you to leave. Please." I could see he wanted to argue, but then shook his head. 

"I'II go." I watched him return to his scrappy truck and drive away, resolving not to answer

the door to strangers for a while.  At least until it started to turn dark, Trick or Treating started at 6 PM. I stepped out to check my porch light and noticed that we had a full moon. then suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. 

I grabbed the side of the house and then staggered into the yard, expecting to throw up. As I did, my jeans cut off at my knees, the excess Dinum dropping to my ankles, making me nearly fall over. The sick feeling passed, leaving me bewildered by the sudden cool breeze on my chest, which was somehow now bare?

 I stared as I lifted each leg, easily pulling free of the pooled up fabric of my pants. Muscular, hairless legs and smooth bronze skin. They looked like they had spent countless hours in full sun. My (also tan) hands jerked up to feel a hairless chiseled face, long blonde hair hanging in my eyes, just like… "Dude." I recoiled from the deep slow voice, which I remembered from earlier that day. Turning, I saw Bodhi looking at me with a sad smile.

 "There was always a chance that you would be immune, or there wouldn't be enough change for you to notice much." He remained where he was, hands by his sides. "But it looks like you got hit full force. As far as I can tell, you are just like anyone else hit with the surf wave" I looked at my arms, biceps bigger than my head used to be and then up at the night sky.

 "Am I going to turn into a monster?" I asked, my voice cracking like I’m going through puberty. 

He shook his head beneath his green hoodie. "You aren't a werewolf. And you won't change again." That last was said with such finality that I looked back at him, puzzled. 

The surfer sighed. "Lil dude is only contagious during the full moon. He was hit with a weird variant of the wave, cursed to always be a little surfer boy instead of a young adult. None of us can figure it out.  I knew I should have kept him home, but even though he misbehaves a lot, he's never bitten anyone in all the months since he changed. Until you." 

I stared, comprehension dawning. "But that means..." He

 nodded. "Grandpas was like 80 years old, and now he’s 12 years old. His mind is that of the child too, now memories of his past life. And, I'm afraid, you will be joining him in that

too." I wanted to deny this, but even as he spoke I realized I couldn't remember half of my life. 

He held out a hand. "I'm sorry, we don’t normally transform those who don’t truly need to be something else. But at least you won't be alone, there’s a lot of us now. You, me, and the lil guy are related too it seems. And with me and him as brothers, that will at least be easier than being alone." 

I stare at his outstretched hand and then back at a house I can't even remember living in anymore. Then I slap his palm in a dab up and let him lead me toward towards the truck he shares with me. I am confused, the past fading and new stuff filling in the gaps, but not sad. Actually, I am getting excited to meet new friends I have never met before, and a lil bro. Even if he was the one who turned me into a were-surfer.